of yellow grass, and
stepped into the cold waters of the channel.

For some few minutes she laved herself, singing softly the while to
herself as is customary with many Polynesian native women when bathing,
when suddenly, through the humming drone of the beating surf on the
windward reef, she heard the sound or voices.

"Ah!" she said to herself, "now I will wait and startle these girls from
Tabeaue as they come along." And so she sank low down in the water, so
that only her dark head showed above the surface.

But amid the sound of native voices she heard the unfamiliar tones of
white men, and in an instant she sprang to the shore, and, seizing her
clothes, fled to the shelter of the boulder.

In a minute she had dressed herself, and was peering out through the
fast-gathering darkness at a group of figures she could just discern on
the opposite side of the channel. They had halted, and the girl could
hear the natives in the party discussing means as to getting the white
men across, for the water was now deep, and the current was swirling
through the narrow pass with great velocity.

There were in the party some eight or ten natives and nearly as many
white men; and these latter, the girl could see, were in uniform, and
carried arms; for presently one of them, who stood a little apart from
the others, struck a light and lit a cheroot, and she caught the gleam
of musket-barrels in the hands of those who were grouped in the rear.

Wondering how it came about that armed white men were searching through
the island at such an hour, the girl was about to call out to the
natives--some of whom she recognised--not to attempt the passage without
a canoe, when she heard the sound of oars, and looking across the
darkening waters of the lagoon she saw a boat, filled with men, pulling
rapidly along in the direction of Utiroa.

When just abreast of the passage they ceased rowing, and a figure stood
in the stern, and hailed the shore party.

"Are you there, Mr. Fenton?"

"Yes," answered the man who had struck the light. "Come in here, Adams,
and take us across. There is a channel here, and though I guess it is
not very deep, the current is running like a mill-race."

Still crouching behind the coral boulder the girl saw the boat row in to
the shore, a little distance further down, so as to escape the swirling
eddies of the passage.

As the man-o'-war cutter--for such was the boat--touched the rocks, a
lantern was held up,