ixed upon my face, and in them I read a sympathy that at that time and
place was grateful to me.

"Six months is long for one who waits, Pakia," I said. "I came here but
to stay four months and trade for copra; then the ship was to call and
take me to Ponape, in the far north-west. And Ponape is a great land to
such a man as me."

"_Etonu! Etonu!_ I know it. Thrice have I been there when I sailed in
the whaleships. A great land truly, like the island called Juan
Fernandez, of which I have told thee, with high mountains green to the
summits with trees, and deep, dark valleys wherein the sound of the sea
is never heard but when the surf beats hard upon the reef. Ah! a fine
land--better than this poor _motu_, which is as but a ring of sand set
in the midst of the deep sea. Would that I were young to go there with
thee! Tell me, dost know the two small, high islands in the _ava_[2]
which is called Jakoits? Hast seen the graves of two white men there?"

"I know the islands well; but I have never seen the graves of any white
men there. Who were they, and when did they die?"

"Ah, I am a foolish old man. I forget how old I am. Perhaps, when thou
wert a child in thy mother's arms, the graves stood up out of the
greensward at the foot of the high cliff which faces to the south. Tell
me, is there not a high wall of rock a little way back from the landing
beach?... Aye!... that is the place ... and the bones of the men are
there, though now great trees may grow over the place. They were both
good men--good to look at, tall and strong; and they fought and died
there just under the cliff. I saw them die, for I was there with the
captain of my ship. We, and others with us, saw it all."

"Who were they, Pakia, and how came they to fight?"

"One was a trader, whose name was Preston; he lived on the mainland of
Ponape, where he had a great house and oil store and many servants. The
name of the other man was Frank. They fought because of a woman."

"Tell me the story, Pakia. Thou hast seen many lands and many strange
things. And when ye come and sit and talk to me the dulness goeth away
from me and I no longer think of the ship; for of all the people on this
_motu_, to thee and Temana my servant alone do I talk freely. And Temana
is now at church."

The old man chuckled. "Aye, he is at church because Malepa, his wife, is
so jealous of him that she fears to leave him alone. Better would it
please him to be sitting here with us."