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 fish-skin 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.