For all he might have known, had he been capable of conjecturing, the only white-gods in existence had perished.

Acting on the assumption that a black-god was better than no god, when he had quite finished the little pig, he deflected his course to the left, down-hill, toward the sea.

He did this, again without reasoning, merely because, in the subtle processes of his brain, experience worked.

His experience had been to live always close by the sea; humans he had always encountered close by the sea; and down-hill had invariably led to the sea.
He came out upon the shore of the reef-sheltered lagoon where ruined grass houses told him men had lived.

The jungle ran riot through the place.