of the ancient chiefess type, as large as a man, perfectly modeled,
a tawny Juno. Her hair was in two plaits, wound with red peppers,
and on her head a crown of tuberoses. She wore a single garment,
which outlined her figure, and her feet were bare. She surveyed the
company, and her glance fell on Landers.

She began to dance. Her face, distinctly Semitic, as is not seldom
the case in Polynesia, was fixed a little sternly at first; but as
she continued, it began to glow. She did not sing. Her dance was the
upaupa, the national dance of Tahiti, the same movement generally
as that of Temanu, but without voice and more skilled. One saw at
once that she was the premiere danseuse of this isle, for all took
their seats. Her rhythmical swaying and muscular movements were of
a perfection unexcelled, and soon infected the bandsmen, now with
all discipline unleashed. One sprang from the table and took his
position before her. Together they danced, moving in unison, or the
man answering the woman's motions when her agitation lulled. The
spectators were absorbed in the hula. They clapped hands and played,
and when the first man wearied, another took his place.

Mamoe stopped, and drank a goblet of rum. Her eyes wandered toward our
end of the table, and she came to us. She put her hand on Landers. The
big trader, who was dressed in white linen, accepted the challenge. He
pushed back the bench and stood up.

Landers in looks was out of a novel. If Henry Dixey, the handsome
actor, whose legs made his fame before he might attest his head's
capacity, were expanded to the proportions of Muldoon, the wrestler,
he might have been Landers. Apparently about thirtythree, really
past forty, he was as big as the young "David" of the Buonarroti,
of the most powerful and graceful physique, with curling brown hair,
and almost perfect features; a giant of a man, as cool as an igloo,
with a melodious Australasian voice pitched low, and a manner with
men and women that was irresistible.

He faced Mamoe, and Temanu seized the accordion and broke into a mad
upaupa. An arm's-length from Mamoe Landers simulated every pulsation
of her quaking body. He was an expert, it was plain, and his handsome
face, generally calm and unexpressive, was aglow with excitement. Mamoe
recognized her gyratory equal in this giant, and often their bodies
met in the ecstasy of their curveting. Landers, towering above her,
and bigger in bone and muscle than she in sheer fle