Vague stories of the men with white faces--the "sailing gods"-- had reached him from time to time; and though only twice within his memory had European boats landed on his island, he yet knew enough of the race to know that they were at least very powerful deities--more powerful with their weapons than even he was.

Besides, a man who could draw down fire from heaven with a piece of wax and a little metal box might surely wither him to ashes, if he would, as he stood before him.

The very fact that Felix bearded him thus openly to his face astonished and somewhat terrified the superstitious savage.

Everybody else on the island was afraid of him; then certainly a man who was not afraid must be the possessor of some most efficacious and magical medicine.

His one fear now was lest his followers should hear and discover his discomfiture.