creature, who had
followed his fortunes for three years to his present location, and then
developed _mal-du-pays_ to such an extent that the local priest and
devil-catcher, one Pare-vaka, was sent for by her female attendants.
Pare-vaka was not long in making his diagnosis. A little devil in the
shape of an octopus was in Tene-napa's brain. And he gave instructions
how to get the fiend out, and also further instructions to one of the
girl attendants to fix, point-upwards, in the sick woman's mat the
_foto_, or barb of the sting-ray. So when Kennedy, who, in his rough,
careless way, had some feint fondness for the woman who three years
ago he went mad over, heard a loud cry in the night and was told that
Tenenapa was dead, he did not know that as the sick woman lay on her
side the watchers had quietly turned her with her face to the roof,
and with the needle pointed _foto_ pierced her to the heart. And old
Pare-vaka rejoiced, for he had a daughter who, in his opinion, should
be _avaga_ to the wealthy and clever white man, who could _tori nui_ and
_sisi atu_ (pull cocoanuts and catch bonito) like any native; and this
Tenenapa--who was she but a dog-eating stranger from Maraki only fit
for shark's meat? So the people came and brought Kennedy the "gifts of
affliction" to show their sympathy, and asked him to take a wife from
their own people. And he asked for Laumanu.

*****

There was a dead silence awhile, and then a wild-looking creature with
long white hair falling around his shoulders like a cloak, dreading to
shame the _papalagi_ before so many, rose to his feet and motioned them
away. Then he spoke: "Forget the words you have said, and take for a
wife the girl from the house of Pare-vaka. Laumanu is _tabu_ and death
walks behind her." But Kennedy sulked and wanted Laumanu or none.

And this is why he feels so bad to-day, and the rum-keg gives him no
consolation. For the sweet-voiced Laumanu always runs away from him
when he steps out from his dark little trade-room into the light,
with unsteady steps and a peculiar gleam in his black eye, that means
mischief--rude love to a woman and challenge to fight to a man.

Lying there on his mat, plotting how to get possession of the girl,
there comes to him a faint cry, gradually swelling in volume until every
voice in the village, from the full, sonorous tones of the men to the
shrill treble of the children, blend together: "_Te vaka motul! Te vaka
motu!_" (a ship! a sh