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Ballantyne, R. M. (Robert Michael), 1825-1894

"The Coral Island A Tale of the Pacific Ocean"

"
"Ah no!" said Peterkin with a heavy sigh, "I am sure he can't help us.
Tararo doesn't care more for him than for one of his dogs."
"Truly," said I, "there seems no chance of deliverance, unless the
Almighty puts forth His arm to save us. Yet I must say that I have
great hope, my comrades; for we have come to this dark place by no
fault of ours--unless it be a fault to try to succour a woman in
distress."
I was interrupted in my remarks by a noise at the entrance to the
cavern, which was caused by the removal of the barricade. Immediately
after, three men entered, and taking us by the collars of our coats,
led us away through the forest. As we advanced, we heard much shouting
and beating of native drums in the village, and at first we thought
that our guards were conducting us to the hut of Tararo again. But in
this we were mistaken. The beating of drums gradually increased, and
soon after we observed a procession of the natives coming towards us.
At the head of this procession we were placed, and then we all advanced
together towards the temple where human victims were wont to be
sacrificed!
A thrill of horror ran through my heart as I recalled to mind the awful
scenes that I had before witnessed at that dreadful spot. But
deliverance came suddenly from a quarter whence we little expected it.
During the whole of that day there had been an unusual degree of heat
in the atmosphere, and the sky assumed that lurid aspect which portends
a thunder-storm.


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