Herman Melville: Typee

12. CHAPTER TWELVE (continued)

'Oh, nothing,' replied he; 'getting the fire ready, I suppose.'

'Fire!' exclaimed I, while my heart took to beating like a trip-hammer, 'what fire?'

'Why, the fire to cook us, to be sure, what else would the cannibals be kicking up such a row about if it were not for that?'

'Oh, Toby! have done with your jokes; this is no time for them; something is about to happen, I feel confident.'

'Jokes, indeed?' exclaimed Toby indignantly. 'Did you ever hear me joke? Why, for what do you suppose the devils have been feeding us up in this kind of style during the last three days, unless it were for something that you are too much frightened at to talk about? Look at that Kory-Kory there!--has he not been stuffing you with his confounded mushes, just in the way they treat swine before they kill them? Depend upon it, we will be eaten this blessed night, and there is the fire we shall be roasted by.'

This view of the matter was not at all calculated to allay my apprehensions, and I shuddered when I reflected that we were indeed at the mercy of a tribe of cannibals, and that the dreadful contingency to which Toby had alluded was by no means removed beyond the bounds of possibility.

'There! I told you so! they are coming for us!' exclaimed my companion the next moment, as the forms of four of the islanders were seen in bold relief against the illuminated back-ground mounting the pi-pi and approaching towards us.

They came on noiselessly, nay stealthily, and glided along through the gloom that surrounded us as if about to spring upon some object they were fearful of disturbing before they should make sure of it.--Gracious heaven! the horrible reflections which crowded upon me that moment.--A cold sweat stood upon my brow, and spell-bound with terror I awaited my fate!