ver, there
was added cause for rejoicing in the safety of the Saint Michel,
a French-owned inter-island steamship which had been missing six
weeks. She had left one of the Paumotu atolls and failed to reach her
next port, thirty miles away. Rumor had sent her to the bottom. She
was a crank vessel, with a perpetual list, and a roll of twenty-five
degrees in the quietest sea; the dread of all compelled by affairs
to take passage on her.

"She's sunk; rolled over too much, and turned turtle," was the verdict
at the Cercle Bougainville. Her agents had sent the Cholita, a small
power schooner, to go over the Saint Michel's course, and find trace
of her, if possible. Imagine the excitement along the waterfront
when, almost coincident with the sighting of the Noa-Noa, the Saint
Michel appeared, pulled by the Cholita. Familiar faces of passengers
appeared on her deck as she made fast to the quay, holding cigarettes
as if they had waked up after a night in their own beds. The Cholita
had found the Saint Michel at the Marquesas Islands, whither she had
drifted after losing her rudder on a rock. After a month lying inert
at the Marquesas, the Cholita had taken hold and dragged the crippled
Saint back to Papeete.

The joy and surprise of the families and friends of the passengers and
the crew must have the vent usual here, and what with the Noa-Noa's
crew of amateur sailors, firemen, and yachtsman, and six licensed
captains, taking the places of the strikers, the town was filled with
pleasure-seekers. A high mass of thanksgiving at the cathedral was
followed by a day of explanations, anathemas upon the owners of the
Saint Michel, and the striking labor-unions, and of music, dancing,
and toasts.

New Year's eve, two picture shows, hulas, and the festivities of the
wedding of Cowan, the prize-fighter, brought in a throng from the
districts to add to the Papeete population and the voyagers.

The streets were a blaze of colored gowns and flower-crowned girls
and women. The quays were lined with singing and playing country
folk. Small boats and canoes were arriving every few minutes during
the afternoon with natives who preferred the water route to the
Broom Road. Cowan was a favorite boxer, and shortly to face the
noted Christchurch Kid, of Christchurch, New Zealand, whose fist
was described on the bill-boards as "a rock thrown by a mighty
slinger." Cowan, a half-Polynesian, was beloved for his island blood,
and was marrying into