t he was face to face
with a tragedy. When a shipmate's soul lay bare it was not for
the McGuffey to inspect it too closely.

"Yes, McGuffey, I was a king once. Some people might try to make
out as how I was only a chief, but you take it from me, Mac, I
was a king. I was King Gibney, the first, of Aranuka, in the
Gilberts, with the seat of government at Nonuti, which is a
blackbird village right under Hakatuea. No matter which way you
approach, you can't miss it. Hakatuea's a dead volcano, with
ashes on top and just enough fire inside to cast a glow against
the sky at night. There's a fair anchorage inside the reef, but
it takes a good man to land through the surf at high tide in a
whaleboat. I used to do it regular. Aranuka was a nice place,
with plenty of fresh water, and some of the Island schooners, and
once in a while a British gunboat would stop there. Gawd,
McGuffey, but when I was king, they used to pay dear for their
fresh water, except the gunboats, which of course came on and
helped themselves without askin' no questions of me and
parliament--which was both the same thing. I was in Aranuka first
in '88 and again in '89, and I was a fool for leavin' it."

"What was you doin' in this here Aranuka?" asked Mr. McGuffey.

"In '88 I was blackbirdin' and in '89 I was--why, what d'ye expect a
king does, anyhow? You don't suppose I _worked_, do you? Because I
didn't. I ate and drank and slept and went in swimmin' with the
court officers and did a little fishin' an' fightin'; and on
moonlight nights I used to sprawl in the grass out on the edge of
Hakatuea with my head in my queen's lap, rubberin' up at the
Southern Cross and watchin' the rollers breakin' white over the
reef. And everything'd be as still as death except for that eternal
swishin' of the surf on the beach, babblin' of 'Peace! Peace!
Peace!' an' maybe once in a while the royal voice lifted in one of
them sad slumber songs of the South Seas--creepy and dirgelike and
beautiful. My girl could sing circles around a sky lark. I taught
her how to sing 'John Brown's Body Lies A-Smoulderin' in th' Grave,'
though she didn't have no more notion o' what she was singin' than a
ring-tailed monkey."

"How d'ye come to pick up with her?" inquired McGuffey politely.

"I didn't come to pick up with her," answered Mr. Gibney. "She
took a fancy to them red whiskers o' mine, and picked up with me.
She used to stick hibiscus flowers in them red curtains and stand
off