asked.

"He wants to see the footprint of Hoouiti," said my guide.

On one of the stones of the _paepae_ was a footprint, perfect from
heel to toe, and evidently not artificially made.

"Hoouiti stood here when he hurled his spear across the island,"
said Strong in Battle. "He was not a big man, as you see by his
foot's mark."

"Fifteen kilometers! A long hurling of a spear," said I.

"_Aue!_ he was very strong. He lived on this _paepae_. These whom
you see are his children's children. Would you like to meet my
wife's father-in-law, Kahuiti? He has eaten many people. He talks
well."

_Eo!_ Would I! I vowed that I would be honored by the acquaintance
of any of the relatives of my host, and specially I desired to
converse with old, wise men of good taste.

"That man, Kahauiti, has seen life," said Strong in Battle.
"I am married to the sister of Great Night Moth, who was a very
brave and active man, but now foolish. But Kahauiti! O! O! O! Ai! Ai!
Ai! There he is."

I never solved the puzzle of my informant's relation to the man who
was his wife's father-in-law, for suddenly I saw the man himself,
and knew that I was meeting a personage. Kahauiti was on the veranda
of a small hut, sitting Turk fashion, and chatting with another old
man. Both of them were striking-looking, but, all in all, I thought
Kahauiti the most distinguished man in appearance that I had seen,
be it in New York or Cairo, London or Pekin.

He had that indefinable, yet certain, air of superiority, of assured
position and knowledge, that stamps a few men in the world--a Yuan
Shih Kai, Rabindranath Tagore, Sitting Bull, and Porfirio Diaz. He
wore only a _pareu_, and was tattooed from toenails to hair-roots. A
solid mass of coloring extended from his neck to the hip on the left
side, as though he wore half of a blue shirt. The _tahuna_ who had
done the work seemed to have drawn outlines and then blocked in the
half of his torso. But remembering that every pin-point of color had
meant the thrust of a bone needle propelled by the blow of a mallet,
I realized that Kahauiti had endured much for his decorations. No
iron or Victoria Cross could cost more suffering.

The bare half of his bosom, cooperish-red, contrasted with this
cobalt, and his face was striped alternately with this natural color
and with blue. Two inches of the _ama_ ink ran across the eyes from
ear to ear, covering every inch of lid and eyebrow, and from this
seeming bandage his