22

Sudden the path grew wide—

A little space deprived of flowers and life—

"The house of sandal wood," said Taka, pointing,

And there, the last home of a chief, it lay.

White shells and snowy pebbles girt him round

In his great mould of clay, and all his spears

And clubs of war kept vigil, showing still

His might in battle. Shrill the parrot's scream

Rang on the desolation, and the trees

Seemed to withdraw their shadows from the place

Sacred to death, the violent crime of war.

A little shadow darkened Taka's heart,

Could this sweet world contain both death and love?

She sought Malua's eyes to be assured

That love lives always.

23

He had gone before

To hold the leaves for her to pass, and softly

She came, and like a golden butterfly

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