It was almost a fall, as it was. We first dove headlong, at a dangerous angle, and then I swung her head up, shut off the motor, and she fluttered, rocked and came to a sudden stop with a jolt that well nigh drove the breath from our bodies. Joe pitched from the seat and rolled over a few times; then he sat up and looked at me in a dazed way that would have made me laugh had I not been wondering just then how many bones I had broken. But after the jar on my nerves had subsided I crawled out of the machine, which dropped its planes as if ashamed of its rude action, and found we were on the flat top of one of the high buildings that overlooked the place of the Pearl Temple.
I crawled to the edge, which had a low parapet, and looked over. A hundred eyes met mine, staring at me with wonder in spite of the stoic nature of these remarkable islanders.
It was not strange that they marveled. Airships are not yet everyday affairs in our own country, so this one might well startle the natives of a secluded South Sea island which even ships do not sight. I am not certain which party was at first most bewildered, Joe and I or the Faytans; but we were first to recover, and our desperate situation called for decisive thought.
Hastily I ran over the machine. A guide rope had parted, and I promptly knotted it together again. In all other respects the Antoinette seemed uninjured.
“Get aboard, Joe!” I cried; “we must make a run for it the best way we can.”
“Someone has to push the thing,” he returned. “I’ll start it and you take it away, Sam. If you reach the ship safely you can come back with a rescue party.”
“That’s nonsense!” I exclaimed. “I won’t go without you, and you know it. Here, help me run it over to the edge, and we’ll see what we can do. It may dip at first, but there is lots of room in the square down there for us to get a start and rise again.”
“And lots of savages to grab us if we bump the ground. My way’s best, Sam.”
“Your way is impossible!” said I. “We will either go together, or we’ll both stay right here.”
The speech was prophetic. Before I had the words well out of my mouth the natives began to pour in a stream out upon the roof, coming through a square hole in the center which we had not thought to guard.
Each of us was armed with a brace of revolvers, but we hesitated to use them. As we backed away to the furthermost edge I said to Joe:
“Don’t shoot. They’ll capture us anyhow by force of numbers, and we’ll stand better with them if we don’t hurt anyone. Keep your pistols out of sight, for a better time may come to use them.”
Joe nodded.
“You’re right,” he said briefly.
The Faytans lined up before us, a score of great muscular fellows with singularly intelligent features and of grave, dignified demeanor. As I looked upon them I decided to adopt a certain plan of action. Extending my hand and smiling in a fearless, friendly manner, I slowly advanced toward the man directly in front of me. There seemed to be no captain or leader among them.
“Greeting, good friends,” I said in the language of Tuamotu, the island Nux and Bry had come from, and which they had long ago taught me to speak. All the natives of the South Seas have, I believe, a common language, although each island seems to use a dialect or “brogue” of its own. At any rate the islanders seem able to understand one another when they meet in peace or war, and for that reason I hoped to make myself understood.
That I succeeded was soon apparent. The man did not take my extended hand, but he said in a deep, musical voice:
“We are not friends. It is not possible.”
“No?” I returned, as if astonished. And, indeed, his frankness was surprising, for these islanders are usually subtle and deceptive, claiming friendship when they intend murder. “Why is it not possible for us to be friends?”
“Because you come unasked. Because we do not harbor strangers. Because intruders deserve death, and the laws of the Faytans decree it.” This was not at all pleasant.
“We came not here of our own will,” I said after a moment’s hesitation. “The gods of the Storm and Wind thrust us upon your island. We wish to go away; to return to our own country.”
“That cannot be,” said another standing near the first speaker. “To allow a stranger from the world beyond the sea to escape would be to allow him to carry tales of Faytan to his countrymen. Then they would send many boats here to rob us of our pearls and make us trouble.”
“Therefore,” added another, “you must die to save Faytan.”
“In what way?” I asked, more to gain time than because the mode of dying interested me just then.
“The King will determine that. We will take you to the King.”
“Very well,” I responded cheerfully. “Come, Joe; let’s visit the King.”
He grinned at this, for Joe isn’t easily scared, and we allowed the Faytans to escort us from the roof, going so docilely that they did not bind us or even touch our bodies. They merely surrounded us in a dense mass, and since they were of gigantic size and strong as bulls that was as secure a method as any.
The house through which we passed was not badly arranged or furnished. We saw numerous rooms from the corridors we traversed, and they were more pleasant and homelike than you might suppose, considering this to be an uncivilized island which the world’s progress had never yet thought of.
The square outside — it was a circle, really — was thronged with men, women and children, all scantily clad as far as clothing was concerned, but the humblest wearing a fortune in pearl ornaments.
This island of Faytan must be very populous. There were at least two hundred men in the boats guarding the reefs; the forest was full of them; many were working in the fields, and still the Pearl City was packed full, as far as we could see. The natives were of superior physique and intelligence. We had thought Nux and Bry exceptionally well built fellows, for South Sea Islanders, and we had often proved their fidelity and keenness of intellect; but the Faytans were fully their equals in every respect, and I knew from the reports of Tuamotu that they had no such capital as the Pearl City and lived in a more primitive manner.
Crossing the square between close ranks of silent, staring natives, we were escorted to the steps of the Great Temple and in through a high arched doorway.
CHAPTER 11
A KING, A PRIEST AND A BOY
To our surprise there was no great hall of concourse before us, but an entrance hall from which opened several doorways hung with finely woven mats, all of which were lavishly decorated with conventional designs in pearls. Before each doorway stood a guard, armed with a spear and a double-edged battle-ax, the latter fashioned from gypsum by the method employed by the North American Indians.
There was a captain of these guards and when one of our conductors spoke to him in a low voice this official disappeared through a central doorway. He returned presently and Joe and I were told to follow him. After us came merely a half dozen of our captors, closing the rear, and so in stately procession we tramped down a long corridor and came to the throne room.
It was a high, spacious apartment, having many windows covered with translucent fishskin dyed in various colors. These had the appearance of stained glass and were quite effective. Around three sides of the room ran a stone bench covered with mattings and in the center was a raised place, or dais, with a broad, pearl-encrusted seat.
Heaped upon the royal bench were many gay colored blankets woven from a soft cocoanut fibre, and lying flat upon these, face downward, was the mighty King of Faytan.
His Majesty was only a boy. His copper-colored form was lean and slender, but no greater in length than my own.
He did not move for a time and I had opportunity to examine him curiously. The knot of hair twisted upon the back of his head was decorated with five monstrous black pearls — the rarest and most valuable sort known. Around his waist was a broad belt on which exquisite rose pearls were thickly clustered. Over his shoulder was draped a short cloak sewn thick with the same precious gems. But
aside from this richness of decoration there was nothing to distinguish the youthful king from his subjects, unless it was his attitude. This might indicate grief, despair or suffering, for though he moved not a muscle there was such utter abandon in his pose that I caught myself feeling sorry for the youth’s misery without knowing why or how he was miserable.
We stood motionless, awaiting his royal pleasure. After a time, with a slow, writhing motion he raised himself to a sitting position and showed his face to us.
I was born and bred in a democratic republic, and believe that all men are free and equal; nevertheless there was a serene dignity in this boy’s countenance that plainly marked him royal. Wherever I might have met him I should have recognized in him the king; yet he was a mere savage secluded on an unknown island.
The unhappiness that had marked his former attitude showed plainly in his face, but its proud regard seemed to demand no pity from anyone. Whatever it was, the king was strong enough to bear it alone.
He eyed Joe and me with calm interest, his look flashing over us from head to heel and noting every detail of our appearance. Then he turned to the captain of the guard and nodded permission for him to speak.
“Flying through the air on a thing with wings,” began the man, “these two intruders alighted upon the top of the house of Aza, where they were captured. They are brought before your Majesty for judgment.”
The king passed his hand across his eyes with a wearied gesture. Then he looked toward us again and said:
“They are young.” His voice was low and soft.
“You are also young, your Majesty,” I ventured to state.
“Then you understand our tongue?” he said quickly.
“Imperfectly. I was taught to speak it by a native of Tuamotu.”
“Tuamotu! So you have come here to get our pearls?”
“No, indeed. We were shipwrecked, having been driven out of our course by the storm. We are not robbers, your Majesty, but only unfortunate voyagers.”
He nodded.
“You are indeed unfortunate to land upon the shore of Faytan,” said he. “It means death to all of you.”
“Not necessarily,” I returned, coolly. “For my part, I expect to live a long time yet.”
“You do not understand,” he persisted gently. “It is the law of the island — the law of my forefathers — that all strangers who land upon Faytan shall be put to death.”
“A cruel law,” I remarked; “and an unjust one.”
“It is to protect us from invasion,” he explained in a kindly tone. “This is the richest island in all the world, and the most favored by nature. My people are the bravest and strongest of mankind. No other nation can at all compare with this, for we are protected and favored by the powerful Pearl God.” As he mentioned this deity all the Faytans present prostrated themselves, muttering:
“The King is the Priest of the Pearl God. Through him we acquire power and protection!”
The king had also bowed his head, reverently and with no hint of self-adulation. When the chant ended he turned to us and continued:
“Strangers, it is not through hatred that your death is decreed. There is no hate in my breast, although you have killed my father, the late King of Faytan.”
His voice faltered, and I exclaimed:
“Killed the King! We? It is impossible.”
His grief was readily explained now, but although these people posed as our enemies I was really shocked at the assertion that we had rendered this boy fatherless.
“I do not think the deed was intentional,” he returned, musingly, “for it was dark and your weapons could single out no man. But my noble father’s death was the result of your coming here. When runners from the other end of the island brought the news of your arrival, my father the King set out at once with a band of chosen warriors to capture you. He arrived at the cove at nightfall, in time to see your people leap into your boats and start out to sea. Our warriors sent arrows after you, and you replied with the weapons that sting. One stung my father and he fell dead. The warriors brought him back to the Pearl City, where I slept, and I was awakened to be told I had lost my dearest friend and was now the King of Faytan.”
He bowed his head again and for a time remained motionless.
“I am sorry,” I said quietly. “It was the fortune of war.”
“Yes,” he returned, raising his head to look at me curiously; “the fortune of war; the same fate that led you here in the storm to meet your death.”
I began to feel a little uneasy.
“Is there no way of evading that foolish law of yours?” I asked.
“No. Away from Faytan every stranger is safe. He is nothing to us then. But when a stranger comes to Faytan the law decrees his death. There is no escape.”
“Does the law say in what manner we are to die?” I inquired.
“No. The King determines that. But it is our custom to grant our prisoners the easiest death of which we have knowledge, which is by drowning. The only demand of the law is that every invader shall die. There is no desire on our part to be cruel.”
I pondered the matter.
“Does the law state how soon the prisoner shall die?” was my next inquiry.
“No. That would, of course, depend upon circumstances,” he admitted.
“In that case, there is no need for us to worry over my death for the present, or over that of this friend who is with me,” said I in my easiest manner. “I begin to admire your law, your Majesty. It says very truly that every intruder upon your island shall die. But every native of Faytan, too, must die — in time.”
He saw my point, but was not impressed.
“The law says you shall be put to death, not that you will be permitted to die in time,” said he.
“Oh; very well, let it be that way,” I agreed. “But I am innocent of any intent to wrong you, or any of your people, your Majesty; so I appeal to you to postpone putting me to death as long as possible.”
He stared at me in a puzzled way.
“It is not fear,” he muttered, “that drives you to beg for your life — for a few brief hours or days. What is it, then?”
“I’ve acquired a habit of living,” said I, “and I hate to break it. Also I have a duty to perform — to instruct you in the truth concerning the great world outside of Faytan, of which I find you are very ignorant. I must show you how far behind other nations you are; how much you have yet to learn. You cannot gain this information from your own people, who are as ignorant as you are; you must gain it from me, before I am put to death. You say proudly that you rule a great country, but there is a way for you to make it a far greater country. You say your people are happy and prosperous, but I can teach you how to give them many comforts they are now without.”
At last I had interested him, for he was an intelligent youth. His eyes flashed. He rose to his feet, facing me, and asked:
“Can you do this?”
“Yes; and more. I can tell you of things you have never even dreamed of, which will make Faytan greater and more powerful than it has ever been — since the beginning of time.”
“Then,” said he, “your death shall wait until I have listened to your teachings. But do not misunderstand me. I grant you neither pardon nor life. I merely postpone your death.”
“That is fair enough,” I answered. “I am satisfied.”
Deliberately and with dignity he again seated himself, turning toward my captors, who had heard all this conversation plainly.
“You may go,” said he.
Evidently the king had no thought of asking anyone’s advice as to his actions. He told the captain of the guard to take us to a certain room and keep us safely until he sent for us, and as we bowed low and left the youthful monarch he turned and cast himself prone upon the blankets of the throne again. When I looked back over my shoulder I found he had buried his face in his hands and his attitude was one of great dejection.
CHAPTER 12
THE “CROO
KED ONE”
The Pearl Temple was also the Royal Palace, for as the king was the sole priest of the Pearl God it was fitting that his abode should be in this sacred place. Seldom has a nation placed the supreme power, both religious and political, in the hands of one person. It is concrete autocracy and usually a priesthood protects a country from its king while the king protects it from the priests. But here was decidedly a one-man rule — and the man was a boy. If we could win the boy’s friendship there were no complications to thwart his will, and therein lay our sole chance of salvation.
Joe and I talked it over in our prison, a fine big room in the rear portion of the temple, with windows opening on the square. There were no guards, nor were we bound or otherwise restrained except by the command of the king to remain in the room until sent for. We might easily have dropped from one of the windows to the crowded streets; but that would have availed us nothing. We might have walked out by way of the corridors, and met the guards at the other end. Really, we were safe enough, and our captors knew it.
Complete Works of L. Frank Baum Page 724