By Reef and Palm

by Louis Becke

  THE CHILEAN BLUEJACKET

  A Tale Of Easter Island

  Alone, in the most solitary part of the Eastern Pacific, midway betweenthe earthquake-shaken littoral of Chili and Peru, and the thousandpalm-clad islets of the Low Archipelago, lies an island of the days"when the world was young." By the lithe-limbed, soft-eyed descendantsof the forgotten and mysterious race that once quickened the land, thislonely outlier of the isles of the Southern Seas is called in theirsoft tongue Rapanui, or the Great Rapa.

  * * * * *

  A hundred and seventy years ago Roggewein, on the dawn of an EasterSunday, discerned through the misty, tropic haze the grey outlines ofan island under his lee beam, and sailed down upon it.

  He landed, and even as the grim and hardy old navigator gazed upon andwondered at the mysteries of the strange island, so this day do thecunning men of science, who, perhaps once in thirty years, go thitherin the vain effort to read the secret of an all-but-perished race. Andthey can tell us but vaguely that the stupendous existing evidences ofpast glories are of immense and untold age, and show their designers tohave been coeval with the builders of the buried cities of Mexico andPeru; beyond that, they can tell us nothing.

  Who can solve the problem? What manner of an island king was he whoruled the builders of the great terraced platforms of stone, thecarvers of the huge blocks of lava, the hewers-out with rudest tools ofthe Sphinx-like images of trachyte, whose square, massive, anddisdainful faces have for unnumbered centuries gazed upwards andoutwards over the rolling, sailless swell of the mid-Pacific?

  * * * * *

  And the people of Rapa-nui of to-day? you may ask. Search the wholePacific--from Pylstaart, the southern sentinel of the Friendlies, tothe one-time buccaneer-haunted, far-away Pelews; thence eastwardthrough the white-beached coral atolls of the Carolines and Marshalls,and southwards to the cloud-capped Marquesas and the sandy stretches ofthe Paumotu--and you will find no handsomer men or more graceful womenthan the light-skinned people of Rapa-nui.

  * * * * *

  Yet are they but the survivors of a race doomed--doomed from the daythat Roggewein in his clumsy, high-pooped frigate first saw their land,and marvelled at the imperishable relics of a dead greatness. Withsmiling faces they welcomed him--a stranger from an unknown, outsideworld, with cutlass at waist and pistol in hand--as a god; he left thema legacy of civilisation--a hideous and cruel disease that sweptthrough the amiable and unsuspicious race as an epidemic, and slew itsthousands, and scaled with the hand of Death and Silence the eager lifethat had then filled the square houses of lava in many a town from thewave-beaten cliffs of Terano Kau to Ounipu in the west.

  * * * * *

  Ask of the people now, "Whence came ye? and whose were the hands thatfashioned these mighty images and carved upon these stones?" and intheir simple manner they will answer, "From Rapa, under the settingsun, came our fathers; and we were then a great people, even as theONEONE [sand] of the beach.... Our Great King was it, he whose name isforgotten by us, that caused these temples and cemeteries and terraces tobe built; and it was in his time that the forgotten fathers of our fatherscarved from out of the stone of the quarries of Terano Kau the greatSilent Faces that gaze for ever upward to the sky.... AI-A-AH! ...But it was long ago.... Ah! a great people were we then in thosedays, and the wild people to the West called us TE TAGATA TE PITO HENUA(the people who live at the end of the world) .... and we know nomore."

  And here the knowledge and traditions of a broken people begin and end.

  * * * * *

  I

  A soft, cool morning in November, 187-. Between Ducie and PitcairnIslands two American whale-ships cruise lazily along to the gentlebreath of the south-east trades, when the look-out from both vesselssee a third sail bearing down upon them. In a few hours she is closeenough to be recognised as one of the luckiest sperm whalers of thefleet--the brig POCAHONTAS, of Martha's Vineyard.

  Within a quarter of mile of the two ships--the NASSAU and theDAGGET--the newcomer backs her foreyard and hauls up her mainsail. Acheer rises from the ships. She wants to "gam," I.E. to gossip. Witheager hands four boats are lowered from the two ships, and the captainsand second mates of each are soon racing for the POCAHONTAS.

  * * * * *

  The skipper of the brig, after shaking hands with his visitors andmaking the usual inquiries as to their luck, number of days out fromNew Bedford, etc., led the way to his cabin, and, calling hisPortuguese steward, had liquor and a box of cigars brought out. Thecaptain of the POCAHONTAS was a little, withered-up old man with sharp,deep-set eyes of brightest blue, and had the reputation of possessingthe most fiery and excitable temper of any of the captains of the sixtyor seventy American whale-ships that in those days cruised the Pacificfrom the West Coast of South America to Gaum in the Ladrones.

  After drinking some of his potent New England rum with his visitors,and having answered all their queries, the master of the POCAHONTASinquired if they had seen anything of a Chilian man-of-war further tothe eastward. No, they had not.

  * * * * *

  "Then just settle down, gentlemen, for awhile, and I'll tell you one ofthe curiousest things that I ever saw or heard of. I've loggedpartiklars of the whole business, and when I get to Oahu (Honolulu) Imean to nar-rate just all I do know to Father Damon of the HonoluluFRIEND. Thar's nothing like a newspaper fur showin' a man up when he'sbeen up to any onnatural villainy, and thinks no one will ever knowanything about it. So just take hold and listen."

  The two captains nodded, and he told them this.

  * * * * *

  Ten days previously, when close in to barren and isolated Sala-y-Gomez,the POCAHONTAS had spoken the Chilian corvette O'HIGGINS, bound fromEaster Island to Valparaiso. The captain of the corvette entertainedthe American master courteously, and explained his ship's presence sofar to the eastward, by stating that the Government had instructed himto call at Easter Island, and pick up an Englishman in the Chilianservice, who had been sent there to examine and report on the colossalstatues and mysterious terraces of that lonely island. The Englishman,as Commander Gallegos said, was a valued servant of the Republic, andhad for some years served in its Navy as a surgeon on board ELALMIRANTE COCHRANE, the flag-ship. He had left Valparaiso in thewhale-ship COMBOY with the intention of remaining three months on theisland. At the end of that time a war vessel was to call and convey himback to Chili. But in less than two months the Republic was in thethroes of a deadly struggle with Peru--here the commander of theO'HIGGINS bowed to the American captain, and, pointing to a huge scarthat traversed his bronzed face from temple to chin, said, "in which Ihad the honour to receive this, and promotion"--and nearly two yearshad elapsed ere the Government had time to think again of the Englishscientist and his mission. Peace restored, the O'HIGGINS was ordered toproceed to the island and bring him back; and as the character of thenatives was not well known, and it was feared he might have beenkilled, Commander Gallegos was instructed to execute summary justiceupon the people of the island, if such was the case.

  But, the Chilian officer said, on reaching the island he had found thenatives to be very peaceable and inoffensive, and, although muchalarmed at the appearance of his armed landing party from the corvette,they had given him a letter from the Englishman, and had satisfied himthat Dr Francis ---- had remained with them for some twelve monthsonly, and had then left the island in a passing whale-ship, andCommander Gallegos, making them suitable presents, bade them good-bye,and steamed away to Valparaiso.

  * * * * *

  This was all the polite little commander had to say, and, after afarewell glass of wine, his visitor rose to go, when the captain of thecorvette casually inquired if the POCAHONTAS was likely to call at theisland.

  "I ask you," he said in his perfect English, "because one of my ship'scompany deserted there. You, senor, may possibly meet with him there.Yet he is of no value, and he is no sailor, and but a lad. He was veryill most of the time, and this was his first voyage. I took him ashorewith me in my boat, as
he besought me eagerly to do so, and the littledevil ran away and hid, or was hidden by the natives."

  "Why didn't you get him back?" asked the captain of the POCAHONTAS.

  "That was easy enough, but"--and the commander raised his eyebrows andshrugged his shoulders--"of what use? He was no use to the corvette.Better for him to stay there, and perhaps recover, than to die on boardthe O'HIGGINS and be thrown to the blue sharks. Possibly, senor, youmay find him well, and it may suit you to take him to your good ship,and teach him the business of catching the whale. My trade is to showmy crew how to fight, and such as he are of no value for that."

  Then the two captains bade each other farewell, and in another hour theredoubtable O'HIGGINS, with a black trail of smoke streaming astern,was ten miles away on her course to Valparaiso.

  A week after the POCAHONTAS lay becalmed close in to the lee side ofRapa-nui, and within sight of the houses of the principal village. Thecaptain, always ready to get a "green" hand, was thinking of thechances of his securing the Chilian deserter, and decided to lower aboat and try. Taking four men with him, he pulled ashore, and landed atthe village of Hagaroa.

  * * * * *

  II

  Some sixty or seventy natives clustered round the boat as she touchedthe shore. With smiling faces and outstretched hands they surroundedthe captain, and pressed upon him their simple gifts of ripe bananasand fish baked in leaves, begging him to first eat a little and thenwalk with them to Mataveri, their largest village, distant a mile,where preparations were being made to welcome him formally. Theskipper, nothing loth, bade his crew not to go too far away in theirrambles, and, accompanied by his boatsteerer, was about to set off withthe natives, when he remembered the object of his visit, and asked abig, well-made woman, the only native present that could speak English,"Where is the man you hid from the man-of-war?"

  * * * * *

  There was a dead silence, and for nearly half a minute no one spoke.The keen blue eyes of the American looked from one face to anotherinquiringly, and then settled on the fat, good-natured features ofVarua, the big woman.

  Holding her hands, palms upwards, to the captain, she endeavoured tospeak, and then, to his astonishment, he saw that her dark eyes werefilled with tears. And then, as if moved with some sudden and sorrowfulemotion, a number of other women and young girls, murmuring softly inpitying tones, "E MATE! E MATE!" ["Dead! Dead!"] came to his side, andheld their hands out to him with the same supplicating gesture.

  The captain was puzzled. For all his island wanderings and cruises hehad no knowledge of any Polynesian dialect, and the tearful muteness ofthe fat Varua was still unbroken. At last she placed one hand on hissleeve, and, pointing land-ward with the other, said, in her gentlevoice, "Come," and taking his hand in hers, she led the way, the restof the people following in silence.

  For about half a mile they walked behind the captain and hisboatsteerer and the woman Varua without uttering a word. PresentlyVarua stopped, and called out the name of "Taku" in a low voice.

  A fine, handsome native, partly clothed in European sailor's dress,stepped apart from the others and came to her.

  Turning to the captain, she said, "This is Taku the Sailor. He canspeak a little English and much Spanish. I tell him now to come withus, for he has a paper."

  Although not understanding the relevancy of her remark, the captainnodded, and then with gentle insistence Varua and the other women urgedhim on, and they again set out.

  * * * * *

  A few minutes more, and they were at the foot of one of themassive-stoned and ancient PAPAKU, or cemeteries, on the walls of whichwere a number of huge images carved from trachyte, and representing thetrunk of the human body. Some of the figures bore on their heads crownsof red tufa, and the aspect of all was towards the ocean. At the footof the wall of the PAPAKU were a number of prone figures, with handsand arms sculptured in low relief, the outspread fingers clasping thehips.

  About a cable length from the wall stood two stone houses--memorials ofthe olden time--and it was to these that Varua and the two white men,attended now by women only, directed their steps.

  * * * * *

  The strange, unearthly stillness of the place, the low whispers of thewomen, the array of colossal figures with sphinx-like faces set to thesea, and the unutterable air of sadness that enwrapped the whole scene,overawed even the unimaginative mind of the rough whaling captain, andhe experienced a curious feeling of relief when his gentle-voiced guideentered through the open doorway the largest of the two houses, and, ina whisper, bade him follow.

  * * * * *

  A delightful sense of coolness was his first sensation on entering, andthen with noiseless step the other women followed and seated themselveson the ground.

  Still clasping his hand, Varua led him to the farther end of the house,and pointed to a motionless figure that lay on a couch of mats, coveredwith a large piece of navy-blue calico. At each side of the couch sat ayoung native girl, and their dark, luminous eyes, shining star-likefrom out the wealth of black, glossy hair that fell upon their bronzedshoulders, turned wonderingly upon the stranger who had broken in upontheir watch.

  * * * * *

  Motioning the girls aside, Varua released her hold of the white man'shand and drew the cloth from off the figure, and the seaman's pityingglance fell upon the pale, sweet features of a young white girl.

  But for the unmistakable pallid hue of death he thought at first thatshe slept. In the thin, delicate hands, crossed upon her bosom, therewas placed, after the manner of those of her faith, a small metalcrucifix. Her hair, silky and jet black, was short like a man's, andthe exquisitely-modelled features, which even the coldness of death hadnot robbed of their beauty, showed the Spanish blood that, but a fewhours before, had coursed through her veins.

  Slowly the old seaman drew the covering over the still features, and,with an unusual emotion stirring his rude nature, he rose, and,followed by Varua, walked outside and sat upon a broken pillar of lavathat lay under the wall of the PAPAKU.

  * * * * *

  Calling his boatsteerer, he ordered him to return to the beach and gooff to the ship with instructions to the mate to have a coffin made asquickly as possible and send it ashore; and then, at a glance fromVarua, who smiled a grave approval as she listened to his orders, hefollowed her and the man she called Taku into the smaller of the twohouses.

  Round about the inside walls of this ancient dwelling of a forgottenrace were placed a number of seamen's chests made of cedar and camphorwood--the LARES and PENATES of most Polynesian houses. The gravelledfloor was covered with prettily-ornamented mats of FALA (thescrew-palm).

  Seating herself, with Taku the Sailor, on the mats, Varua motioned thecaptain to one of the boxes, and then told him a tale that movedhim--rough, fierce, and tyrannical as was his nature--to the deepestpity.

  * * * * *

  III

  "It is not yet twenty days since the fighting PAHI AFI (steamer) camehere, and we of Mataveri saw the boat full of armed men land on thebeach at Hagaroa. Filled with fear were we; but yet as we had done nowrong we stood on the beach to welcome. And, ere the armed men had leftthe boat, we knew them to be the SIPANIOLA from Chili--the same asthose that came here ten years ago in three ships, and seized and boundthree hundred and six of our men, and carried them away for slaves tothe land of the Tae Manu, and of whom none but four ever returned toRapa-nui. And then we trembled again."

  (She spoke of the cruel outrage of 1862, when three Peruvianslave-ships took away over three hundred islanders to perish on theguano-fields of the Chincha Islands).

  "The chief of the ship was a little man, and he called out to us in thetongue of Chili, 'Have no fear,' and took a little gun from out itscase of skin that hung by his side, and giving it to a man in the boat,stepped over to us, and took our hands in his.

  "'Is there none among ye that speak my tongue?' he said quickly.

  "Now, this man here, Taku the Sailor, speaketh the tongue of Chili, buthe feared to tell i
t, lest they might take him away for a sailor; so heheld his lips tight.

  "Then I, who for six years dwelt with English people at Tahiti, waspushed forward by those behind me and made to talk in English; and lo!the little man spoke in your tongue even as quick as he did in that ofChili. And then he told us that he came for Farani [Frank].

  * * * * *

  "Now this Farani was a young white man of PERETANIA (England), big andstrong. He came to us a year and a half ago. He was rich, and had withhim chests filled with presents for us of Rapa-nui; and he told us thathe came to live a while among us, and look upon the houses of stone andthe Faces of the Silent that gaze out upon the sea. For a year he dweltwith us and became as one of ourselves, and we loved him; and then,because no ship came, he began to weary and be sad. At last aship--like thine, one that hunts for the whale--came, and Farani calledus together, and placed a letter in the hands of the chief at Mataveri,and said: 'If it so be that a ship cometh from Chili, give these mywords to the captain, and all will be well.' Then he bade us farewelland was gone.

  * * * * *

  "All this I said in quick words, and then we gave to the littlefighting chief the letter Farani had written. When he had counted thewords in the letter, he said: 'BUENO, it is well,' and called to hismen, and they brought out many gifts for us from the boat--cloth, andgarments for men and women, and two great bags of canvas filled withtobacco. AI-A-AH! many presents he gave us--this because of the goodwords Farani had set down in the letter. Then the little chief said tome, 'Let these my men walk where they list, and I will go with thee toMataveri and talk with the chief.'

  "So the sailors came out of the boats carrying their guns and swords intheir hands, but the little chief, whose AVAGUTU (moustache) stuck outon each side of his face like the wings of a flying-fish when it leapsin terror from the mouth of the hungry bonito, spoke angrily, and theylaid their guns and swords back in the boats.

  "So the sailors went hither and thither with our young men and girls;and, although at that time I knew it not, she, who now is not, was oneof them, and walked alone.

  "Then I, and Taku the Sailor, and the little sea-chief came to thehouses of Mataveri, and he stayed awhile and spoke good words to us.And we, although we fear the men of Chili for the wrong they once didus, were yet glad to listen, for we also are of their faith.

  * * * * *

  "As we talked, there came inside the house a young girl named Temeteri,whom, when Farani had been with us for two months, he had taken forwife; and she bore him a son. But from the day that he had sailed awayshe became sick with grief; and when, after many months, she told methat Farani had said he would return to her, my heart was heavy, for Iknow the ways of white men with us women of brown skins. Yet I fearedto tell her he lied and would return no more. Now, this girl Temeteriwas sought after by a man named Huarani, the son of Heremai, whodesired to marry her now that Farani had gone, and he urged her toquestion the chief of the fighting ship, and ask him if Farani wouldreturn.

  * * * * *

  "So I spoke of Temeteri. He laughed and shook his head, and said: 'Nay,Farani the Englishman will return no more; but yet one so beautiful asshe,' and he pointed to Temeteri, 'should have many lovers and know nogrief. Let her marry again and forget him, and this is my marriage giftto her,' and he threw a big golden coin upon the mat on which the girlsat.

  "She took it in her hand and threw it far out through the doorway withbitter words, and rose and went away to her child.

  "Then the little captain went back to the boat and called his men tohim, and lo! one was gone. Ah! he was angry, and a great scar that randown one side of his face grew red with rage. But soon he laughed, andsaid to us: 'See, there be one of my people hidden away from me. Yet heis but a boy, and sick; and I care not to stay and search for him. Lethim be thy care so that he wanders not away and perishes among thebroken lava; he will be in good hands among the people of Rapa-nui.'With that he bade us farewell, and in but a little time the greatfighting ship had gone away towards the rising sun.

  * * * * *

  "All that day and the next we searched, but found not him who hadhidden away; but in the night of the second day, when it rainedheavily, and Taku (who is my brother's son) and I and my two childrenworked at the making of a KUPEGA (net), he whom we had sought came tothe door. And as we looked our hearts were filled with pity, for, as heput out his hands to us, he staggered and fell to the ground.

  "So Taku--who is a man of a good heart--and I lifted him up and carriedhim to a bed of soft mats, and as I placed my hand on his bosom to seeif he was dead, lo! it was soft as a woman's, and I saw that thestranger was a young girl!

  "I took from her the wet garments and brought warm clothes of MAMOE(blankets), and Taku made a great fire, and we rubbed her cold body andher hands and feet till her life came back to her again, and she sat upand ate a little beaten-up taro. When the night and the dawn touchedshe slept again.

  * * * * *

  "The sun was high when the white girl awoke, and fear leapt into hereyes when she saw the house filled with people who came to questionTaku and me about the stranger. With them came the girl Temeteri, whosehead was still filled with foolish thoughts of Farani, her white lover.

  "I went to the strange girl, put my arm around her, and spoke, butthough she smiled and answered in a little voice, I understood her not,for I know none of the tongue of Chili. But yet she leaned her headagainst my bosom, and her eyes that were as big and bright as Fetuaho,the star of the morning, looked up into mine and smiled through theirtears.

  * * * * *

  "There was a creat buzzing of talk among the women. Some came to herand touched her hands and forehead, and said: 'Let thy trembling cease;we of Rapa-nui will be kind to the white girl.'

  "And as the people thronged about her and talked, she shook her headand her eyes sought mine, and hot tears splashed upon my hand. Then themother of Temeteri raised her voice and called to Taku the Sailor, andsaid: 'O Taku, thou who knowest her tongue, ask her of Farani, my whiteson, the husband of my daughter.'

  * * * * *

  "The young girls in the house laughed scornfully at old Pohere, forsome of them had loved Farani, who yet had put them all aside forTemeteri, whose beauty exceeded theirs; and so they hated her andlaughed at her mother. Then Taku, being pressed by old Pohere, spoke inthe tongue of Chili, but not of Temeteri.

  "Ah! She sprang to her feet and talked then! and the flying wordschased one another from her lips; and these things told she to Taku:--She had hidden among the broken lava and watched the little captaincome back to the boat and bid us farewell. Then when night came she hadcrept out and gone far over to the great PAPAKU, and lay down to hideagain, for she feared the fighting ship might return to seek her. Andall that day she lay hidden in the lava till night fell upon her again,and hunger drove her to seek the faces of men. In the rain she all butperished, till God brought her feet to this, my house.

  "Then said Taku the Sailor: 'Why didst thou flee from the ship?'

  "The white girl put her hands to her face and wept, and said: 'Bring memy jacket.'

  "I gave to her the blue sailor's jacket, and from inside of it she tooka little flat thing and placed it in her bosom.

  * * * * *

  "Again said old Pohere to Taku: 'O man of slow tongue, ask her ofFarani.' So he asked in this wise:

  "'See, O White Girl, that is Pohere, the mother of Temeteri, who bore ason to the white man that came here to look upon the Silent Faces; andbecause he came from thy land, and because of the heart of Temeteri,which is dried up for love of him, does this foolish old woman ask theeif thou hast seen him; for long months ago he left Rapa-nui. In ourtongue we call him Farani.'

  * * * * *

  "The girl looked at Taku the Sailor, and her lips moved, but no wordscame. Then from her bosom she took the little flat thing and held it tohim, but sickness was in her hand so that it trembled, and that whichshe held fell to the ground. So Taku stooped and picked it up fromwhere it lay on the mat, and
looked, and his eyes blazed, and heshouted out 'AUE!' for it was the face of Farani that looked into his!And as he held it up in his hand to the people, they, too, shouted inwonder; and then the girl Temeteri cast aside those that stood abouther, and tore it from his hand and fled.

  "'Who is she?' said the white girl, in a weak voice to Taku; 'and whyhath she robbed me of that which is dear to me?' and Taku was ashamed,and turned his face away from her because of two things--his heart wassore for Temeteri, who is a blood relation, and was shamed because herwhite lover had deserted her; and he was full of pity for the whitegirl's tears. So he said nought.

  "The girl raised herself, and her hand caught Taku by the arm, andthese were her words: 'O man, for the love of Jesu Christ, tell me whatwas this woman Temeteri to my husband?'

  "Now Taku the Sailor was sore troubled, and felt it hard to hurt herheart, yet he said: 'Was Farani, the Englishman, thy husband?'

  "She wept again, 'He was my husband.'

  "'Why left he one as fair as thee?' said Taku, in wonder.

  "She shook her head. 'I know not, except he loved to look upon strangelands; yet he loved me.'

  "'He is a bad man,' said Taku. 'He loved others as well as thee. Thegirl that fled but now with his picture was wife to him here. He lovedher, and she bore him a son.'

  "The girl's head fell on my shoulder, and her eyes closed, and shebecame as dead; and lo! in a little while, as she strove to speak,blood poured from her mouth and ran down over her bosom.

  "'It is the hand of Death,' said Taku the Sailor.

  * * * * *

  "Where she now lies, there died she, at about the hour when the peopleof Vaihou saw the sails of thy ship.

  "We have no priest here, for the good father that was here three yearsago is now silent [i.e. dead]; yet did Taku and I pray with her. And ereshe died she said she would set down some words on paper; so Alrema, mylittle daughter, hastened to Mataveri, and the chief sent back some paperand VAI TUHI (ink) that had belonged to the good priest. So with weak handshe set down some words, but even as she wrote she rose up and threw outher hands, and called out: 'Francisco! Francisco!' and fell back, and wasdead."

  * * * * *

  IV

  The captain of the POCAHONTAS dashed the now fast-falling tears fromhis eyes, and with his rough old heart swelling with pity for the poorwanderer, took from Taku the sheet of paper on which the heart-brokengirl's last words were traced.

  Ere he could read it a low murmur of voices outside told him his crewhad returned. They carried a rude wooden shell, and then with baredheads the captain and boatsteerer entered the house where she lay.

  Again the old man raised the piece of navy blue cloth from off thesweet, sad face, and a heavy tear dropped down upon her forehead. Then,aided by the gentle, sympathetic women, his task was soon finished, andtwo of his crew entered and carried their burden to its grave. Servicethere was none--only the prayers and tears of the brown women ofRapa-nui.

  * * * * *

  Ere he said farewell the captain of the whale-ship placed money in thehands of Varua and Taku. They drew back, hurt and mortified. Seeing hismistake, the seaman desired Varua to give the money to the girlTemeteri.

  "Nay, sir," said Varua, "she would but give me bitter words. Even whenshe who is now silent was not yet cold, Temeteri came to the door ofthe house where she lay and spat twice on the ground, and taking upgravel in her hand cast it at her, and cursed her in the name of ourold heathen gods. And as for money, we here in Rapa-nui need it not.May Christ protect thee on the sea. Farewell!"

  * * * * *

  The captain of the POCAHONTAS rose and came to the cabin table, andmotioning to his guests to fill their glasses, said--

  "'Tis a real sad story, gentlemen, and if I should ever run acrossDoctor Francis, I should talk some to him. But see here. Here is mylog; my mate, who is a fancy writist, wrote it at my dictation. I can'tshow you the letter that the pore creature herself wrote; that I ain'tgoing to show to any one."

  The two captains rose and stood beside him, and read the entry in thelog of the POCAHONTAS.

  "November 28, 187-.

  This day I landed at Easter Island, to try and obtain as a 'green' handa young Chilian seaman who, the captain of the Chilian corvetteO'HIGGINS informed me, had run away there. On landing I was shown thebody of a young girl, whom the natives stated to be the deserter. Shehad died that morning. Buried her as decently as circumstances wouldpermit. From a letter she wrote on the morning of her death I learnedher name to be Senora Teresa T----. Her husband, Dr Francis T----, wasan Englishman in the service of the Chilian Republic. He was sent outon a scientific mission to the island, and his wife followed him in theO'HIGGINS disguised as a blue-jacket. I should take her to have beenabout nineteen years of age.

  "SPENCE ELDRIDGE, MASTER. "MANUAL LEGASPE, 2ND OFFICER. "Brig POCAHONTAS, of Martha's Vineyard, U.S.A."

  "Well, that's curious now," said the skipper of the NASSAU; "why, Iknew that man. He left the island in the KING DARIUS, of New Bedford,and landed at Ponape in the Caroline Group, whar those undergroundruins are at Metalanien Harbour. Guess he wanted to potter around therea bit. But he got inter some sorter trouble among the natives there,an' he got shot."

  "Aye," said the captain of the DAGGET, "I remember the affair. I wasmate of the JOSEPHINE, and we were lying at Jakoits Harbour when he waskilled, and now I remember the name too. Waal, he wasn't much account,anyhow."

  * * * * *

  Ten years ago a wandering white man stood, with Taku the Sailor, at thebase of the wall of the great PAPAKU, and the native pointed out thelast resting-place of the wanderer. There, under the shadow of theSilent Faces of Stone, the brave and loving heart that dared so much isat peace for ever.

  BRANTLEY OF VAHITAHI

  One day a trading vessel lay becalmed off Tatakoto, in the PaumotuArchipelago, and the captain and supercargo, taking a couple of nativesailors with them, went ashore at dawn to catch some turtle. The turtlewere plentiful and easily caught, and after half a dozen had been putin the boat, the two white men strolled along the white hard beach. Thecaptain--old, grizzled, and grim--seemed to know the place well, andled the way.

  * * * * *

  The island is very narrow, and as they left the beach and gained theshade of the forest of coconuts that grew to the margin of high-watermark, they could see, between the tall, stately palms, the placidwaters of the lagoon, and a mile or so across, the inner beach of theweather side of the island.

  For a quarter of a mile or so the two men walked on till the widestpart of the island was reached. Here, under the shadow of some giantPUKA trees, the old skipper stopped and sat down on a roughly hewn slabof coral, the remains of one of those MARAE or heathen temples that areto be found almost anywhere in the islands of Eastern Polynesia.

  "I knew this place well, once," he said, as he pulled out his pipe. "Iused to come here when I was sailing one of Brander's vessels out ofTahiti. As we have done now we did then--came here for turtle. Nonatives have lived here for the past forty years. Did you ever hear ofBrantley?"

  "Yes," answered the supercargo, "but he died long ago, did he not?"

  "Aye, he died here, and his wife and sister too. They all lie here inthis old MARAE."

  And then he told the story of Brantley.

  * * * * *

  I

  It was six years since Brantley, with his companions in misery, haddrifted ashore at lonely Vahitahi in the Paumotu Group, and thekindly-hearted people had gazed with pitying horror upon the dreadfulbeings that, muttering and gibbering to each other, lay in the bottomof the boat, and pointed with long talon-like fingers to their burntand bloody thirst-tortured lips.

  * * * * *

  And now as he sits in the doorway of his thatched house, and gazesdreamily out upon the long curve of creamy beach and wind-swayed lineof palms that fringe the leeward side of his island home, Brantleypasses a brown hand slowly up and down his sun-bronzed cheek, andthinks of the past.

  He was
so full of life--of the very joy of living--that time six yearsago when he sailed from Auckland on that fateful voyage in the DORIS.It was his first voyage as captain, and the ship was his own, and evennow he remembers with a curious time-dulled pang the last words of hisonly sister--the Doris after whom he had called his new ship--as shehad kissed him farewell--"I am so glad, Fred, to hear them call you'Captain Brantley.'"

  And the voyage--the wild feverish desire to make a record passage to'Frisco and back; the earnest words of poor old white-headed Lutton,the mate, "not to carry on so at night going through the PaumotuGroup"; that awful midnight crash when the DORIS ran hopelessly intothe wild boil of roaring surf on Tuanake Reef; the white, despairingfaces of five of his men, who, with curses in their eyes upon hisfolly, were swept out of sight into the awful blackness of the night.And then the days in the boat with the six survivors! Ah! the memory ofthat will chill his blood to his dying day. Men have had to do thatwhich he and the two who came through alive with him had done.

  How long they endured that black agony of suffering he knew not. Bycommon consent none of them ever spoke of it again.

  Three months after they had drifted ashore, a passing sperm whaler,cruising through the group, took away the two seamen, and thenBrantley, after bidding them a silent farewell, had, with bitterdespair gnawing at his heart, turned his face away from the ship, andwalked back into the palm-shaded village.

  * * * * *

  "I will never go back again," he had said to himself. And perhaps hewas right; for when the DORIS went to pieces on Tuanake his hope andfortunes went with her, and, save for that other Doris, there was noone in the world who cared for him. He was not the man to face theworld again with: "Why, he lost his first ship!" whispered among hisacquaintances.

  And this is how Brantley--young, handsome, and as smart a seaman (savefor that one fatal mistake) as ever trod a deck--became Paranili thePAPALAGI, and was living out his life among the people of solitaryVahitahi.

  * * * * *

  Ere a year had passed a trading captain bound to the Gambier Islandshad given him a small stock of trade goods, and the thought of Dorishad been his salvation. Only for her he would have sunk to the life ofa mere idle, gin-drinking, and dissolute beach-comber. As it was, hissteady, straightforward life among the people of the island was a bigfactor to his business success. And so every year he sent money toDoris by some passing whaler or Tahitian trading schooner, but twiceonly had he got letters from her; and each time she had said: "Let mecome to you, Fred. We are alone in the world, and may never meet againelse. Sometimes I awake in the night with a sudden fear. Let me come;my heart is breaking with the loneliness of my life here, so far awayfrom you."

  * * * * *

  But two years ago he had done that which would keep Doris from evercoming to him, he thought. He had married a young native girl--that is,taken her to wife in the Paumotuan fashion--and surely Doris, with herold-fashioned notions of right and wrong, would grieve bitterly if sheknew it.

  Presently he rose, talking to himself as is the wont of those who havelived long apart from all white associations, and sauntered up and downthe shady path at the side of his dwelling, thinking of Doris, and ifhe would ever see her again. Then he entered the house.

  * * * * *

  Seated on the matted floor with her face turned from him was a youngnative girl--Luita, his wife. She was making a hat from the bleachedstrands of the pandanus leaf, and as she worked she sang softly toherself in the semi-Tahitian tongue of her people.

  Brantley, lazily stretching himself out on a rough mat-covered couch,turned towards her, and watched the slender, supple fingers--covered,in Polynesian fashion, with heavy gold rings--as they deftly drew outthe snow-white strands of the pandanus. The long, glossy, black wavesof hair that fell over her bare back and bosom like a mantle of nighthid her face from his view, and the man let his glance rest incontented admiration upon the graceful curves of the youthful figure;then he sighed softly, and again his eyes turned to the wide, saillessexpanse of the Pacific, that lay shimmering and sparkling before himunder a cloudless sky of blue, and he thought again of Doris.

  * * * * *

  Steadily the little hands worked in and out among the snowy strands,and now and then, as she came to the TARI, or refrain, of the oldPaumotuan love-song, her soft liquid tones would blend with thequavering treble of children that played outside.

  "Terunavahori, teeth of pearl, Knit the sandals for Talaloo's feet, Sandals of AFA thick and strong, Bind them well with thy long black hair."

  Suddenly the song ceased, and with a quick movement of her shouldersshe threw back the cloud of hair that fell around her arms and bosom,looked up at Brantley and laughed, and, striking the mat on which shesat with her open palm, said--

  "HAERE MAI, PARANILI."

  He rose from the couch and stooped beside her, with his hands restingon his knees, and bending his brow in mock criticism, regarded herhandiwork intently.

  Springing to her feet, hat in hand, and placing her two hands on hisnow erect shoulders, she looked into his face--darker far than herown--and said with a smile--

  "Behold, Paranili, thy PULOU is finished, save for a band of blackPU'AVA which thou shalt give me from the store."

  "Mine?" said Brantley, in pretended ignorance. "Why labour so for me?Are there not hats in plenty on Vahitahi?"

  "True, O thankless one! but the women of the village say that thoulookest upon me as a fool because I can neither make mats nor do manyother things such as becometh a wife. And for this did Merani, mycousin, teach me how to make a wide hat of FALA to shield thy face fromthe sun when thou art out upon the pearling grounds. AI-E-EH! myhusband, but thy face and neck and hands are as dark as those of thepeople of Makatea--they who are for ever in their canoes.... See,Paranili, bend thy head. AI-E-EH! thou art a tall man, my husband," andshe trilled a happy, rippling laugh as she placed the hat on his head.

  He placed one hand around the pliant waist and under the mantle ofhair, and drew her towards him, and then, moved by a sudden emotion,kissed her soft, red lips.

  "Luita," he asked, "would it hurt thee if I were to go away?"

  The girl drew away from him, and, for the first time in two yearsBrantley saw an angry flush tinge her cheek a dusky red.

  * * * * *

  "Ah!"--the contemptuous ring in her voice made the man's eyesdrop--"thou art like all White Men--was there ever one who wasfaithful? What other woman is it that thou desirest? Is it Nia ofAhunui--she who, when thy boat lay anchored in the lagoon, swam off atnight and asked thee for thy love--the shameless Nia?"

  The angry light in the black eyes shone fiercely, and the dull red onher cheeks had changed to the livid paleness of passion.

  Brantley, holding the rim of the hat over his mouth, laughed secretly,pleased at her first outburst of jealousy. Then his natural manlinessasserted itself.

  "Come here," he said.

  Somewhat sullenly the girl obeyed and edged up beside him with facebent down. He put his hand upon hers, and for a few seconds looked atthe delicate tracery of tattooing that, on the back, ran in thin bluelines from the finger tips to the wrists.

  "What a d----d pity!" he muttered to himself; "this infernal tattooingwould give the poor devil away anywhere in civilization. Her skin isnot as dark as that pretty creole I was so sweet on in Galveston tenyears ago ... Well, she's good enough for a broken man like me--but Ican't take her away--that's certain."

  A heavy tear splashed on his hand, and then he pulled her to him,almost savagely.

  "See, Luita. I did but ask to try thee. Have no fear. Thy land is minefor ever."

  The girl looked up, and in an instant her face, wet with tears, waslaid against his breast. Still caressing the dark head that lay uponhis chest, Brantley stooped and whispered something. The littletattooed hand released its clasp of his arm and struck him a playfulblow.

  "And would that bind thee more to me, and to the ways of these ourpeople of Vahitahi," she asked, with still burie
d face.

  "Aye," answered the ex-captain slowly, "for I have none but thee in theworld to care for."

  She turned her face up. "Is there none--not even one woman in far-offBeretania, whose face comes to thee in the darkness."

  Brantley shook his head sadly. Of course there was Doris, he thought,but he had never spoken of her. Sometimes when the longing to see heragain would come upon him, he would have talked of her to his nativewife, but he was by nature an uncommunicative man, and the thought ofhow Doris must feel her loneliness touched him with remorse and madehim silent.

  * * * * *

  Another year passed, and matters had gone well with Brantley. Tenmonths before he had dropped on one of the best patches of shell in thePaumotus, and to-day, as he sits writing and smoking in the big room ofhis house, he looks contentedly out through the open door to a littlewhite painted schooner that lay at anchor on the calm waters of thelagoon. He had just come back from Tahiti with her, and the twothousand dollars he had paid for the vessel was an easy matter for aman who was now making a thousand dollars a month.

  "What a stroke of luck!" he writes to Doris. "Had I gone back toSydney, where would I be now?--a mate, I suppose, on some deep-seaship, earning twelve or fourteen pounds a month. Another year or two likethis, and I can go back a made man. Some day, my dear, I may; but I willcome back here again. The ways of the people have become my ways."

  * * * * *

  He laid down his pen and came to the door, and stood thinking awhileand listening to the gentle rustle of the palms as they swayed theirlofty plumes to the breezy trade wind.

  "Yes," he thought, "I would like to go and see Doris, but I can't takeLuita, and so it cannot be. How that girl suspects me even now. When Iwent to Tahiti to buy the schooner, I believe she thought she wouldnever see me again.... What a fool I am! Doris is all right, I suppose,although it is a year since I had a letter ... and I--could any manwant more. I don't believe there's a soul on the island but thinks asmuch of me as Luita herself does; and, by G-d! she's a pearl--eventhough she is only a native girl. No, I'll stay here; 'Kapeni Paranili'will always be a big man in the Paumotus, but Fred Brantley would benobody in Sydney--only a common merchant skipper who had made money inthe islands.... And perhaps Doris is married."

  * * * * *

  So he thought and talked to himself, listening the while to the softsymphony of the swaying palm-tops and the subdued murmur of the surf asthe rollers crashed on the distant line of reef away to leeward. Oflate these fleeting visions of the outside world--that quick, busyworld, whose memories, save for those of Doris, were all but dead tohim--had become more frequent; but the calm, placid happiness of hisexistence, and that strange, fatal glamour that for ever enwraps theminds of those who wander in the islands of the sunlit sea--as the oldSpanish navigators called Polynesia--had woven its spell too stronglyover his nature to be broken. And now, as the murmur of women's voicescaused him to turn his head to the shady end of the verandah, the dark,dreamy eyes of Luita, who with her women attendants sat there playingwith her child, looked out at him from beneath their long lashes, andtold him his captivity was complete.

  * * * * *

  A week afterwards the people of Vahitahi were clustered on the beachputting supplies of native food in the schooner's boat. That night hewas to sail again for the pearling grounds at Matahiva lagoon, andwould be away three months.

  One by one the people bade him adieu, and then stood apart while hesaid farewell to Luita.

  "E MAHINA TOLU [Only three months], little one," he said, "why such agloomy face?"

  The girl shook her head, and her mouth twitched. "But the MITI [dream],Paranili--the MITI of my mother. She is wise in the things that arehidden; for she is one of those who believe in the old gods ofVahitahi.... And there are many here of the new LOTU [Faith, i.e.Christianity] who yet believe in the old gods. And, see, she has dreamedof this unknown evil to thee twice; and twice have the voices of those whoare silent in the MARAE called to me in the night, and said: 'He must notgo; he must not go.'"

  Knowing well how the old superstitious taint ran riot in theimaginative native mind, Brantley did not attempt to reason, but soughtto gently disengage her hands from his arm.

  She dropped on the sand at his feet and clasped his knees, and a long,wailing note of grief rang out--

  "AUE! AUE! my husband! if it so be that thou dost not heed the voicesthat call in the night, then, out of thy love for me and our child, letme come also. Then, if evil befall thee, let us perish together."

  Brantley raised his hand and pointed to the bowed and weeping figure.Some women came and lifted her up. Then taking the tender face betweenhis rough hands, he bent his head to hers, sprang into the boat, andwas gone.

  * * * * *

  II

  With ten tons of shell snugly stowed in her hold, the little Tamarikiwas heading back for Vahitahi after barely two months' absence.Brantley, as he leant over the rail and watched the swirl and eddy ofthe creamy phosphorescence that hissed and bubbled under the vessel'sstern, felt well satisfied.

  It was the hour of dawn, and the native at the tiller sang, as thestars began to pale before the red flush that tinged the sky towindward, a low chant of farewell to Fetuaho, the star of the morning,and then he called to Brantley, who to all his crew was always"Paranili," and never "Kapeni [Captain]," and pointed with his naked,tattooed arm away to leeward, where the low outlines of an island beganto show.

  "Look, Paranili, that is Tatakoto, the place I have told thee of, wherethe turtle makes the white beach to look black. Would it not be wellfor us to take some home to Vahitahi?"

  "Thou glutton!" said Brantley, good-humouredly, "dost thou think I amlike to lose a day so that thou and thy friends may fill thy stomachswith turtle meat?"

  Rua Manu laughed, and showed his white, even teeth. "Nay, Paranili, notfor that alone; but it is a great place, that Tatakoto, and thou hastnever landed there to look, and Luita hath said that some day she wouldask thee to take her there; for, though she was born at Vahitahi, herblood is that of the people of Tatakoto, who have long since lainsilent in the MARAES."

  * * * * *

  Brantley had often heard her speak of it, this solitary spot in thewide Pacific, and now, as he looked at the pretty, verdure-clad islandagainst the weather shore of which the thundering rollers burst with amuffled roar, he was surprised at its length and extent, and decided topay it a visit some day.

  "Not now, Rua," he said to the steersman, "but it shall be soon. Arethere many coconuts there?"

  "Many? May I perish, but the trees are as the sand of the sea, and thenuts lie thick upon the ground. AI-E-EH! and the robber crabs are inthousands, and fat; and the sea-birds' eggs!"

  "Glutton again! Be content. In a little while we and as many of thepeople of Vahitahi as the schooner will carry will go there and stayfor the turtle season."

  * * * * *

  Three days afterwards the schooner was within fifty miles of his islandhome, when Brantley was aroused at daylight from his watch below by thecry of "TE PAHI!" (a ship!) and hastening on deck he saw a large vesselbearing down upon them. In half an hour she was close to, and Brantleyrecognised her as a brig from Tahiti, that occasionally made a tradingvoyage to the Paumotus, and whose skipper was a personal friend.Suddenly she hove-to and lowered a boat, which came alongside theschooner, and the white man that steered jumped on deck and held outhis hand.

  "How are you, Brantley?" and then his eye went quickly over the crew ofthe schooner, then glanced through the open skylight into the littlecabin, and a hopeful, expectant look in his face died away.

  "Very well, thank you, Latham. But what is wrong?--you look worried."

  "Come on board," said the captain of the brig, quietly, "and I'll tellyou."

  As Brantley took his seat beside him, Latham said: "I have bad news foryou, Brantley. Your sister is on board the brig, and I fear she willnot live long. She came down to Tahiti in the MARAMA from Auckland, andoffered me a good round sum to bring he
r to you."

  "Has she been ill long, Latham?"

  * * * * *

  Latham looked at him curiously. "Didn't you know, Brantley? She's in arapid consumption."

  For a moment neither men spoke; then Latham gave a short cough.

  "I feel it almost as badly as you, Brantley--but I've got a bit morebad news--"

  "Go on, Latham--it can't matter much. My poor sister is everything to me."

  "Just so. That's what I told Miss Brantley. Well, it's this--your wifeand child are missing----" Latham glanced at him and saw that his handtrembled and then grasped the gunwale of the boat.

  "We got into Vahitahi lagoon about ten days ago, and I took MissBrantley ashore. What happened I don't exactly know, but the next nightone of your whale-boats was gone, and Luita and the child were missing.Your sister was in a terrible state of mind, and offered me a thousanddollars to put to sea. Brantley, old man, I wouldn't take a dollar fromher--God bless her--but I did put to sea, and I've searched nigh ontwenty islands, and scores of reefs and sandbanks----"

  "Thank you, Latham," said Brantley quietly; "when we get on board youcan give me further particulars of the islands you've searched."

  "You can have my marked chart; I've got a spare one. Brace up, old man!you'll see your sister in a minute. She is terribly cut up over poorLuita--more so than I knew you would be. But she was a grand littlewoman, Brantley, although she was only a native."

  "Yes," he answered, in the same slow, dazed manner, "she was a goodlittle girl to me, although she----" The words stuck in his throat.

  * * * * *

  Latham showed him into the brig's cabin, and then a door opened, andDoris threw herself weeping into his arms.

  "Oh, Doris," he whispered, "why did you not tell me you were ill? Iwould have come to you long ago. I feel a brute----"

  She placed her hand on his lips. "Never mind about me, Fred. HasCaptain Latham told you about----"

  "Yes," he replied; and then suddenly: "Doris, I am going to look forher; I think I know the place to which she has gone. It is not far fromhere. Doris, will you go on back to Vahitahi with Latham and wait for me?"

  "Fred," she whispered, "let me come with you. It will not be long,dear, before I am gone, and it was hard to die away from you--that iswhy I came; and perhaps we may find her."

  He kissed her silently, and then in five minutes more they had saidfarewell to Latham, and were on their way to the schooner.

  The crew soon knew from him what had happened, and Rua Manu, with hisbig eyes filled with a wondering pity as he looked at the frail bodyand white face of Doris lying on the skylight, wore the schooner's headround to the south-west at a sign from Brantley.

  "Aye, Paranili," he said, in his deep, guttural tones, "it is toTatakoto she hath gone--'tis her mother's land."

  * * * * *

  That night, as she lay on the skylight with her hand in his, Doris toldhim all she knew:--

  "They were all kind to me when I went ashore to your house, Fred, butLuita looked so fiercely at me.... Her eyes frightened me--they hada look of death in them.

  "In the morning your little child was taken ill with what they callTATARU, and I wanted to give it medicine. Luita pushed my hand away andhugged the child to her bosom; and then the other women came and madesigns for me to go away. And that night she and the child were missing,and one of your boats was gone."

  "Poor Luita," said Brantley, stroking Doris's pale cheek, "she did notknow you were my sister. I never told her, Doris."

  "She is a very beautiful woman, Fred. They told me at Tahiti that shewas called the pearl of Vahitahi; and oh! my dear, if we can but findher, I will make her love me for your sake."

  * * * * *

  Late in the afternoon of the second day, just as the trade wind beganto lose its strength, the schooner was running along the weather-sideof Tatakoto, and Rua Manu, from the mast-head, called out that he sawthe boat lying on the beach inside the lagoon, with her sail set; and,as landing was not practicable on the weather-side, the schooner ranround to the lee.

  "We will soon know, Doris. It always rains in these islands at thistime of the year, so she would not suffer as I once did; but the sailof the boat is still set, and that makes me think she has never leftit. Wait till I come back again, Doris; you cannot help me."

  And Doris, throwing her weak arms round his neck, kissed him with a sob,and lay back again to wait.

  * * * * *

  With Rua Manu and two others of his faithful native crew, Brantleywalked quickly across the island to the lagoon to where the boat lay.Luita was not there, and the dark eyes of his sailors met his in aresponsive glow of hope--she had not died in the boat!

  They turned back into the silent aisles of coconut palms, and then RuaManu loudly called her name.

  "Listen," he said.

  A voice--a weak, trembling voice--was singing the song of Talaloo.

  "Terunavahori, bending low, Bindeth the sandals on Talaloo's feet; 'Hasten, O hasten, lover true, O'er the coral, cruel and sharp, Over the coral, and sand, and rock, Snare thee a turtle for our marriage feast; IA AKOE! brave lover mine.'"

  "In the old MARAE, Paranili," said Rua Manu, pointing to the remains ofa ruined temple. Motioning to the seamen to remain outside, Brantleyentered the crumbling walls of the old heathen MARAE. At the far endwas a little screen of coconut boughs. He stooped down and went in.

  A few minutes passed, and then his hand was thrust out between thebranches as a sign for them to follow.

  * * * * *

  One by one they came and sat beside Brantley, who held the wastedfigure of the wanderer in his arms. The sound of his voice had broughtback her wavering reason, and she knew them all now. She knew, too,that her brief young life was ebbing fast; for, as each of the brownmen pressed their lips to her hand, tears coursed down their cheeks.

  "See, men of Vahitahi, my Englishman hath come to me, a fool that fledfrom his house ... because I thought that he lied to me. Teloma wasit who first mocked, and said: ''Tis his wife from Beretania who hathcome to seek him;' and then other girls laughed and mocked also, andsaid: 'AH-HE! Luita, this fair-faced girl who sayeth she is thyhusband's sister, AH-HE!' ... and their words and looks stungme ... So at night I took my child and swam to the boat.... My child,see, it is here," and she touched a little mound in the soil beside her.

  There was a low murmur of sympathy, and then the brown men went outsideand covered their faces with their hands, after the manner of theirrace when death is near, and waited in silence.

  * * * * *

  Night had fallen on the lonely island, and the far-off muffled boom ofthe breakers as they dashed on the black ledges of the weather reefwould now and then be borne into the darkness of the little hut.

  "Put thy face to mine, Paranili," she whispered; "I grow cold now."

  As the bearded face of the man bent over her, one thin, weak arm rosewaveringly in the air, and then fell softly round his neck, andBrantley, with his hand upon her bosom, felt that her heart had ceasedto beat.

  * * * * *

  The next day he sailed the schooner into the lagoon, and Doris pressedher lips on the dead forehead of the native girl ere she was laid torest. Something that Doris had said to him as they walked away from hergrave filled Brantley's heart with a deadly fear, and as he took her inhis arms his voice shook.

  "Don't say that, Doris. It cannot be so soon as that. I was never agood man; but surely God will spare you to me a little longer."

  But it came very soon--on the morning of the day that he intendedsailing out of the lagoon again, Doris died in his arms on board theschooner, and Brantley laid her to rest under the shade of a giantpuka-tree that overshadowed the stones of the old MARAE.

  * * * * *

  That night he called Rua Manu into the cabin and asked him if he couldbeat his way back to Vahitahi in the schooner.

  "'Tis an easy matter, Paranili. So that the sky be clear and I can seethe stars, then shall I find Vahitahi in three days."
>
  "Good. Then to-morrow take the schooner there, and tell such of thepeople as desire to be with me to come here, and bring with them allthings that are in my house. It is my mind to live here at Tatakoto."

  As the schooner slipped through the narrow passage, he stood on thelow, sandy point, and waved his hand in farewell.

  * * * * *

  A week later the little vessel dropped her anchor in the lagoon again,and Rua Manu and his crew came ashore to seek him.

  They found him lying under the shade of the puka-tree with his revolverin his hand and a bullet-hole in his temple.