is ripe; it is then cooked in
an oven; the skin is burnt or peeled off--the inside is tender and
white, like the crumb of bread or the flour of the potato."

"Let me have the telescope an instant," said Fritz; "I should like to
see what the natives are like. Ah, I see a troop of them collecting on
shore; some of them seem to be covered with a kind of wrought-steel
armor."

"Perhaps the descendants of the Crusaders," remarked Jack, "returning
from the Holy Land by way of the Pacific Ocean!"

"Others wear striped pantaloons," continued Fritz.

"That is to say," observed Willis, "the whole lot of them are as naked
as posts. What you suppose to be cuirasses and pantaloons, are their
tabooed breasts and legs."

"Are you sure of that, Willis?"

"Not a doubt about it."

"Such garments are both durable and economical," remarked Jack; "but I
scarcely think they are suitable for stormy weather. But do you think
it is safe to land amongst such a set of barebacked rascals, Willis?"

"I should not like to take the responsibility of guaranteeing our
safety; but I do not see what other course we can adopt."

They had now approached within musket-shot of the shore. They could
see that a venerable-looking old man stood a few paces in front of the
group of natives. He held a green branch in one hand, and pressed with
the other a long flowing white beard to his breast.

"According to universal grammar," said Jack, "these signs should mean
peace and amity."

"Yes," replied the Pilot; "the more so that the rear-guard are pouring
water on their heads, which is the greatest mark of courtesy the
natives of Polynesia can show to strangers."

"Gentlemen," cried Jack, taking off his cap and making a low bow, "we
are your most obedient servants."

"We must be on our guard," said Willis; "these savages are very
deceitful, and sometimes let fly their arrows under a show of
friendship. I will go on shore alone, whilst you keep at a little
distance off, ready to fire to cover my retreat, if need be."

The young men objected to Willis incurring danger that they did not
share; but on this point Willis was inexorable, so they were obliged
to suffer him to depart alone. By good chance, they had shipped a
small cask of glass beads on board the pinnace. The Pilot took a few
of these with him, and, placing a cask and a couple of calabashes in
the canoe, he rowed ashore.

The natives were evidently in great commotion; there was an immense