Allan and the Ice Gods by H. Rider Haggard

knew that it was within an
    hour of its setting and grew more silent than before. Presently the
    voice of one who watched on the outskirts of the crowd called:
    “He comes! Henga comes!” whereon, taking their eyes from Wi, they
    turned and stared toward the cave. Emerging from the shadow of the
    cliff, the giant appeared, walking toward them with a heavy tread but
    unconcernedly. Wi stooped down and kissed Foh his son, beckoning to
    Aaka to take charge of him. Then, followed by Moananga his brother and
    by Pag, he walked to the centre of the open space where Urk the Aged,
    the wizard, whose duty it was to recite the conditions of the duel in
    the ancient form, stood waiting. As he went, Whaka the Bird-of-Ill-Omen called to him:
    “Farewell, Wi, whom we shall see no more. We shall miss you very much,
    for I know not where we shall find so good a hunter or one who brings
    in so much meat.”
    Pag turned, glowering at him, and said:
    “Me at least you shall see again, croaking raven!”
    Taking no note, Wi walked on. As he went, it came into his mind that,
    while he lay asleep in the hut, he had dreamed a beautiful dream. He
    could not remember much of it, but its substance was that he was
    seated in a rich and lovely land where the sun shone and water rippled
    and birds sang, where the air was soft and warm and the wild creatures
    wandered round him unafraid and there was plenty of fragrant food to
    eat. Then, in that sweet place, came his daughter Fo-a, grown very
    fair and with a face that shone as moonlight shines upon the sea, and
    set a garland of white flowers about his neck.
    This was all he could recall of the dream, nor, indeed, did he search
    for more of it, for this vision of Fo-a, the cruelly slain, brought
    tears of rage to his eyes. Yet of a sudden his strength seemed to
    double and he swore that he would kill Henga, even though afterward he
    must enter that happy land of peace in which she seemed to wander.
    The chief appeared before him wearing his cloak of tigerskin and
    holding the great club in his left hand.
    “It is well,” muttered Pag to Wi. “Look, he is swollen; he has eaten
    all the salmon!”
    Henga, who was followed by two servants or slaves, stopped at a little
    distance.
    “What,” he growled, “have I to fight this manikin’s friends as well as
    himself?”
    “Not yet, Henga,” answered Moananga boldly. “First kill the manikin;
    afterward you can fight his friends.”
    “That will be easy,” sneered Henga.
    Then Urk advanced, waving a wand, and with a proud air called for
    silence.

CHAPTER VI
THE DEATH OF HENGA
    First, at great length, as master of the ancient customs of the tribe,
    Urk set out the law of such combats as that of Wi and Henga. He told
    how the chief only held his office and enjoyed his privileges by
    virtue of the strength of his body, as does the bull of a herd. When a
    younger and stronger than he arose, he might kill the chief, if he
    could, and take his place. Only, according to the law, he must do so
    in fair and open fight before the people, each combatant being armed
    with a single weapon. Then, if he conquered, the cave was his with
    those who dwelt there, and all would acknowledge him as chief;
    whereas, if he were conquered, his body would be thrown to the wolves,
    such being the fate of those that failed.
    In short, though Urk knew it not, he was setting out the doctrine of
    the survival of the fittest, and the rights of the strong over the
    weak, as Nature preaches them in all her workings.
    At this point, Henga showed signs of wishing to have done with Urk’s
    oratory, being, for reasons of his own, quite certain of a speedy
    victory over an enemy whom he despised, and anxious to return to the
    cave to receive the praises of the womenfolk and to sleep off the
    salmon, which, as Pag guessed, he had devoured almost to the tail. But
    Urk would not be silenced. Here he was master as keeper of the oral
    records; head official and voice of the ceremonies