304 TROPIC DAYS 



the Pacific play upon it, the round white stone returns, 

 independent of the agency of man, to the sanctuary 

 which time, ever-flowing water, and the hospitable 

 roots of the tree, have combined to afford. It is there 

 this day. Should it be taken to one or other of the blue 

 islands in the broad bay, sooner or later it will be dis- 

 covered nestling cosily in the grotto in which the dyed 

 slime smears it as with pale blood. 



To the ordinary investigator of the whimsicalities 

 of "Kidj-o-bang" the blacks betray no secret, though 

 they would verify, with what to them is proof positive, 

 that it does on occasion appear in unexpected places 

 and unaccountably reoccupies its cell. Discreetly 

 pursue the subject and peradventure you may be told 

 precisely why the stone may not always rest in the one 

 spot in the whole world which it fits as a kernel its shell. 

 It has been, they assert, associated with an evil deed of 

 which it is now the emblem. Among the many the 

 mysteries of "Kidj-o-bang" dwell with the past, though 

 it is still associated with the ceremonies of the bestowal 

 of totemic names on the children of a certain father. 



More than one legend concerning it is extant, and the 

 young fellows of the present day frankly scoff at them 

 all, while the old men believe each other's versions 

 and repeat them with bated breath. They cannot 

 discredit stories which were accepted as established 

 facts when they were young, which no one then ever 

 dreamed of doubting, and which provide a comfortably 

 satisfactory account for otherwise perplexing incidents. 



Musing on the spot, the legend of the roving stone 

 usurped my thoughts. The trivial and uncertain 

 notions of the black boy who was the first to tell it, and 

 by theatrical gestures to illustrate its verities, became 

 more and more indistinct. The soothsayers of the long 

 past had been forbidden by Nature to doubt that which 



