ar a small aua, a park in which was a tii, a monument, to
a great writer, a teller of tales on paper. On a tall block of stone
is a ship of gold, with the sails spread; so she seems to be sailing
over the ocean. The friends of the teller of tales built this in in
his honor after he died. Now that writer was once here in Tautira--"

Ori-a-Ori leaned toward me, and in a voice laden with memories,
a voice that harked back over a quarter of a century, said slowly
and meditatively, but with surety:

"Rui? Is the ship the Tatto?"

I had awakened in his mind recollections, doubtless often stirred,
but very vague, perhaps, almost mythical to him, after so long a
time in which nothing like the same experience had come to him. Yet
that they were dear to him was evident. They were concerned with
his vigorous manhood, though he was a youthful grandfather when
the Casco brought Robert Louis Stevenson to Tahiti to live in the
house of Ori. I reminded him of their exchanging names in blood
brothership, so that Stevenson was Teriitera, and Ori was Rui. Rui was
his pronunciation of Louis, as all his family in Tautira called the
Scotch author. Ori-a-Ori had known them all, his mother, his wife,
and his loved stepson, Lloyd Osborne. Nine weeks they had stayed in
his house, which the Princess Moe, Pomare's sister-in-law, had asked
Ori to vacate for the visitors before he knew them, but which he was
glad he had done when they became friends. Ori and his family had
retained only one room for their intimate effects, and had slept in a
native house on the site of my own. On the wild lawn across the road,
before his home, Rui had given his generous feast, costing him eighty
dollars at a time when he was most uncertain of funds, and gaining
him the reputation of the richest man known to the Tautirans, the
owner of the Silver Ship, as the Casco was called by the Paumotuans,
and by Stevenson afterward. There were four or five Tahitians I knew
here who remembered the amuraa maa of the sick man, who had his own
schooner, his pahi tira piti; but only Ori retained the deep, though
misty, impression made by a meeting of hearts in warmest kinship.

"Rui gave me knives and forks and dishes from the schooner to remember
him by," said the chief, abstractedly. "Tati, my relation, has them. I
have not those presents Rui handed me. Tati said that I ate with my
fingers, and that he was the head of the Teva clan; so I gave them
to him. Many papaa visit Tati