ed it off,
and then sat down to open a small bundle he carried, and which contained
a dry jumper and pair of dungaree pants.

Then quickly divesting himself of the soddened girdle of grass around
his loins, he put on the European garments, filled his pipe, and began
to talk.

"The wind will soon cease, for these squalls from the westward last not
long at this time of the year; but when the wind ceases, then comes rain
for two days sometimes--not heavy rain such as this, but soft rain as
fine as hair, and all the forest is wetted and the mountain paths are
dangerous even to our bare feet, and the pigeons give no note, and the
sun is dead. So we cannot go to the river to-day. To-morrow perhaps it
may be fine; therefore let us sit and be content."

So we sat and were content, remaining indoors in my own house, or
visiting those of our neighbours, eating, drinking, smoking, and
talking. I was the only white man on the island, and during my three
months' residence had got to know every man, woman, child, and dog
in the village. And my acquaintance with the dogs was very extensive,
inasmuch as every one of the thirty-four families owned at least ten
dogs, all of which had taken kindly to me from the very first. They were
the veriest mongrels that ever were seen in canine form, but in spite of
that were full of pluck when pig hunting. (I once saw seven or eight of
them tackle a lean, savage old wild boar in a dried-up taro swamp; two
of them were ripped up, the rest hung on to him by his ears and neck,
and were dragged along as if they were as light as feathers, until a
native drove a heavy ironwood spear clean through the creature's loins.)

During the evening my native friends, in response to my inquiries about
the river, told me that it certainly took its rise from the deep pool I
have before described, and that had I made a more careful examination I
should have seen several tiny rivulets, hidden by the dense undergrowth,
flowing into it from both sides of the gorge. During severe rains an
immense volume of muddy water would rush down; yet, strangely enough,
the two kinds of fish which inhabited it were just as plentiful as ever
as soon as the water cleared.

About four o'clock in the morning, when I was sound in slumber, a voice
called to me to awaken. It was Nalik.

"Come out and look."

I lifted (not opened) my Venetian-sashed door of pandanus leaf, and
stepped out.

What a glorious change! The rain had ceased