watch the High Priest constantly."
The young chiefs sat silent, because whatever Teroro divulged as his plan was bound to involve maximum danger. Then a lesser noble pointed out: "It isn't today we have to worry about."
"That's right," Teroro agreed. "Today they're occupied." And he indicated the ghastly circle of dead men dancing in trees.
"But what about the general meeting tomorrow?"
HAWAII
34
Teroro untwisted the sennit and nodded judiciously. "If I were the High Priest," he said, "with his plans, I'd strike tomorrow."
Mato was in reckless mood, for during an awful moment that morning he had felt sure that the High Priest was going to nominate him as the skull-split guardian of the canoe. He said sternly, "I think that if the priest even begins to point at Tamatoa, we must surround the king and fight our way to the canoe."
"I think exactly the same thing," Teroro said abruptly.|
There was a long silence as the other twenty-eight men contem-* plated what such a bold step involved, but before any could turn away in cowardice Teroro threw down the sennit and spoke rapidly: "To succeed we must insure three things. First, we must somehow move our canoe to the top of the hill so that we can rush it into the water without cutting down our speed."
"I'll take care of that," Hiro the steersman promised.
"How?"
"I don't know."
Teroro liked his honest answer but nevertheless pushed his face to within a few inches of the steersman's. "You know that if the canoe is not in position, we will all die?"
"I do," the young chief said grimly.
"Next," Teroro said, "we must have two very determined men sitting on the rocks at the temple exit."
Brash Mato cried, "I'm one, and I want Pa for the other."
A wiry shark-faced man with no chin, Pa, the Fortress, stepped forward and announced: "I'm the other."
"You may not escape," Teroro warned them.
"We'll escape," Mato swore. "Men of Havaiki have never . . ."
"The third requirement," Teroro said impatiently, "is that each of the rest of us be prepared to kill instantly anyone who moves toward Tamatoa."
"We know the executioners," Pa growled.
"And once we make a move, we must sweep Tamatoa up and with an unbroken rush get him to the canoe." He paused and then added softly, "It sounds dangerous, but once we are seaborne, Wait-for-the-West-Wind will be our safeguard."
"They will never catch us," the steersman promised.
"And if they did, what could they do?" Mato boasted, and as the| men talked it was apparent that all wished they were in the certainty* of the canoe and not in the temple grounds of Oro, which were alien and unknown.
"This will be the signal," Teroro said. "You will watch me, and the moment I move to defend the king, the steersman must dash for the canoe and you men must see that he gets through the exJt."
"Who will disarm the executioner?" Mato asked.
"I will," Teroro said coldly. Then, to inspire his men, he boasted,! "No club will fall tomorrow swifter than my arm."^
The men appreciated this assurance, but Mato killed their ardor by stating, "There is one grave fault in this plan."
FROM THE SUN-SWEPT LAGOON
35
"What?" Teroro asked.
"Yesterday, before we sailed, Marama took me aside and said, 'My husband is sure that the High Priest plans to kill the king. But I am certain that Teroro himself is the target.' I think your wife is right. What do we do if she is?"
Teroro could not reply. He could see only his patient, worried wife moving among the men, enlisting their promises to protect him. He looked at the ground, recovered the sennit he had been twisting, and placed it in his belt. It was shark-faced Pa who spoke. "Marama spoke to me, too,'' he said, "and our duty is clear. If they strike at the king, everything goes as planned. But if they strike at Teroro, you, Mato, with your men save the king and I with mine will rescue Teroro."
"I am not the important one," Teroro said honestly.
"To us you are," his men replied, and they proceeded with their