accompanied by swayings of the body and occasional choral

interruptions, all becoming more and more excited as the
story or song approached its natural climax. Sometimes this

was varied by a solitarydancer starting from the circle, and
performing the wildest bacchanalian antics, to the vocal

incitement of the rest. This only ended with physical
exhaustion, or collapse from feminine hysteria.

The food was excellent; the stuffed puppy was a dish for an
epicure. Though knives and forks were unknown, and each

helped herself from the plantain leaf, one had not the least
objection to do likewise, for the most scrupulous cleanliness

is one of the many merits of these fascinating creatures.
Before every dip into the leaf, the dainty little fingers

were plunged into bowls of fresh water provided for the
purpose. Delicious fruit followed the substantial fare; a

small glass of KAVA - a juice extracted from a root of the
pepper tribe - was then served to all alike. Having watched

the process of preparing the beverage, I am unable to speak
as to its flavour. The making of it is remarkable. A number

of women sit on the ground, chew the root, and spit its juice
into a bowl. The liquor is kept till it ferments, after

which it becomes highly intoxicating. I regret to say that
its potency was soon manifested on this occasion. No sooner

did the poison set their wild blood tingling, than a free
fight began for the remaining gourds. Such a scratching,

pulling of hair, clawing, kicking, and crying, were never
seen. Only by main force did we succeed in restoring peace.

It is but fair to state that, except on the celebration of
one or two solemn and sacred rites such as that of the

LOOHOU, these island Thyades never touch fermented liquors.
CHAPTER XXXI

IT was an easier task when all was over to set the little
Amazons on their horses than to keep them there, for by the

time we had perched one on her saddle, or pad rather, and
adjusted her with the greatest nicety, another whom we had

just left would lose her balance and fall with a scream to
the ground. It was almost as difficult as packing mules on

the prairie. For my part it must be confessed that I left
the completion of the job to others. Curious and

entertaining as the feast was, my whole attention was centred
and absorbed in Arakeeta, which that artful little

enchantress had the gift to know, and lashed me accordingly
with her eyes more cruelly than she had done with her whip.

I had got so far, you see, as to learn her name, the first
instalment of an intimacy which my demolished heart was

staked on perfecting. I noticed that she refused the KAVA
with real or affected repugnance; and when the passage of

arms, and legs, began, she slipped away, caught her animal,
and with a parting laugh at me, started off for home. There

was not the faintest shadow of encouragement in her saucy
looks to follow her. Still, she was a year older than

Juliet, who was nearly fourteen; so, who could say what those
looks might veil? Besides:

Das Naturell der Frauen
Ist so nah mit Kunst verwandt,

that one might easily be mistaken. Anyhow, flight provoked
pursuit; I jumped on to my horse, and raced along the plain

like mad. She saw me coming, and flogged the more, but being
the better mounted of the two, by degrees I overhauled her.

As I ranged alongside, neither slackened speed; and reaching
out to catch her bridle, my knee hooked under the hollow of

hers, twisted her clean off her pad, and in a moment she lay
senseless on the ground. I flung myself from my horse, and

laid her head upon my lap. Good God! had I broken her neck!
She did not stir; her eyes were closed, but she breathed, and

her heart beat quickly. I was wild with terror and remorse.
I looked back for aid, but the others had not started; we

were still a mile or more from Honolulu. I knew not what to
do. I kissed her forehead, I called her by her name. But

she lay like a child asleep. Presently her dazed eyes opened
and stared with wonderment, and then she smiled. The tears,

I think, were on my cheeks, and seeing them, she put her arms
around my neck and - forgave me.

She had fallen on her head and had been stunned. I caught
the horses while she sat still, and we walked them slowly

home. When we got within sight of her hut on the outskirts
of the town, she would not let me go further. There was

sadness in her look when we parted. I made her understand (I
had picked up two or three words) that I would return to see

her. She at once shook her head with an expression of
something akin to fear. I too felt sorrowful, and worse than

sorrowful, jealous.
When the night fell I sought her hut. It was one of the

better kind, built like others mainly with matting; no doors
or windows, but with an extensive verandah which protected

the inner part from rain and sun. Now and again I caught
glimpses of Arakeeta's fairy form flitting in, or obscuring,

the lamplight. I could see two other women and two men. Who
and what were they? Was one of those dark forms an Othello,

ready to smother his Desdemona? Or were either of them a
Valentine between my Marguerite and me? Though there was no

moon, I dared not venture within the lamp's rays, for her
sake; for my own, I was reckless now - I would have thanked

either of them to brain me with his hoe. But Arakeeta came
not.

In the day-time I roamed about the district, about the TARO
fields, in case she might be working there. Every evening

before sundown, many of the women and some of the well-to-do
men, and a few whites, used to ride on the plain that

stretches along the shore between the fringe of palm groves
and the mountain spurs. I had seen Arakeeta amongst them

before the LOOHOU feast. She had given this up now, and why?
Night after night I hovered about the hut. When she was in

the verandah I whispered her name. She started and peered
into the dark, hesitated, then fled. Again the same thing

happened. She had heard me, she knew that I was there, but
she came not; no, wiser than I, she came not. And though I

sighed:
What is worth

The rest of Heaven, the rest of earth?
the shrewd little wench doubtless told herself: 'A quiet

life, without the fear of the broomstick.'
Fred was impatient to be off, I had already trespassed too

long on the kind hospitality of General Miller, neither of us
had heard from England for more than a year, and the

opportunities of trading vessels to California seldom
offered. A rare chance came - a fast-sailing brig, the

'Corsair,' was to leave in a few days for San Francisco. The
captain was an Englishman, and had the repute of being a boon

companion and a good caterer. We - I, passively - settled to
go. Samson decided to remain. He wanted to visit Owyhee.

He came on board with us, however; and, with a parting bumper
of champagne, we said 'Good-bye.' That was the last I ever

saw of him. The hardships had broken him down. He died not
long after.

The light breeze carried us slowly away - for the first time
for many long months with our faces to the east. But it was

not 'merry' England that filled my juvenile fancies. I
leaned upon the taffrail and watched this lovely land of the

'flowery food' fade slowly from my sight. I had eaten of the
Lotus, and knew no wish but to linger on, to roam no more, to