In a second, the dry fuel, catching the sparks
instantly, blazed up to heaven with a wild outburst of flame. Great red
tongues of fire licked up the mouldering mass of leaves and twigs, and
caught at once at the trunks of palm and li wood within. A huge
conflagration reddened the sky at once like lightning. The effect was
magical. The glow transfigured the whole island for miles. It was, in
fact, the blaze that Felix Thurstan had noted and remarked upon as he
stood that evening on the silent deck of the Australasian.
Tu-Kila-Kila gazed at it with horrid childish glee. "A fine fire!" he
said, gayly. "A fire worthy of a god. It will serve me well. Tu-Kila-Kila
will have a good oven to roast his meal in."
Then he turned toward the sea, and held up his hand once more for
silence. As he did so, an answering light upon its surface attracted his
eye for a moment's space. It was a bright red light, mixed with white and
green ones; in point of fact, the Australasian was passing. Tu-Kila-Kila
pointed toward it solemnly with his plump, brown fore-finger. "See," he
said, drawing himself up and looking preternaturally wise; "your god is
great. I am sending some of this fire across the sea to where my sun has
set, to aid and reinforce it. That is to keep up the fire of the sun,
lest ever at any time it should fade and fail you. While Tu-Kila-Kila
lives the sun will burn bright.
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