"Put her on now, Major. Put her on at once and come sit in prow of
canoe. Must reach Asiki-land in proper style. Priests think it your
reverend uncle come back again, just as he leave. Make very good
impression."
"I can't," said Alan feebly. "I am played out, Jeekie."
"Oh! buck up, Major, buck up!" he replied imploringly. "One kick more
and you win race, mustn't spoil ship for ha'porth of tar. You just wear
fetish, whistle once on land, and then go to sleep for whole week if you
like. I do rest, say it all magic, and so forth--that you been dead and
just come out of grave, or anything you like. No matter if you turn up
as announced on bill and God bless hurricane that blow us here when we
expect die. Come, Major, quick, quick! mist melt and soon they see you."
Then without waiting for an answer Jeekie clapped the wet mask on his
master's head, tied the thongs and led Alan to the prow of the canoe,
where he set him down on a little cross bench, stood behind supporting
him and again began to sing in a great triumphant voice.
The mist cleared away, rolling up like a curtain and revealing on the
shore a number of men and women clad in white robes, who were martialled
in ranks there, chanting and staring out at the dim waters of the
lagoon.
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