y every
law of the island. It was terrible to him to leave his little girl in
such company. Yet he recalled his last trip across the strait, when she
had fainted with the heat--fainted again and again--as they had
attempted, with such distress and agony, to screen her from a glare as
pitiless as a furnace. He remembered dipping her, naked, all but
lifeless, into the milkwarm water, till up from the transparent depths
the swift, bluish glimmer of a shark warned him to snatch her in.
Remembered the hopelessness of it, the terror, the despair, he himself
bending to an oar, and offering every inducement his mind could think of
to incite his crew to pull their hearts out. No, all that was a
nightmare to look back on--never, never to be repeated.

Daisy was called over and the situation explained to her. Like all only
children, living constantly in the society of her parents, and sharing
their talk and plans, she was precociously old for her age, and more
serious and thoughtful than a little tot ought to be. Though her lower
lip trembled, and her eyes flooded with tears, she put on a brave face
to it, and protested her willingness to remain with Nantok and be a good
little girl.

"And mamma and papa will be back at dusk; and if they are detained, you
mustn't be the least bit worried about them; and you'll let Nantok put
you to bed at eight; and if you wake up and feel frightened, you are to
remember the army outside, guarding you in your sleep like a little
princess!"

"And Dod, too," added Daisy piously, though inwardly pleased to have the
army as well.

"Oh, my lamb!" cried Mrs. Kirke, clasping her to her breast. "It breaks
mamma's heart to leave her little girl on Christmas Day!"

Altogether it was a damp moment in the Kirke family, and even the
missionary's eyes were suspiciously moist as he knelt beside his wife
and talked hurriedly about the magic lantern, and the dolly, and what a
jolly evening they'd all have when they got back from Tarawa.

Preparations were soon made. The whaleboat was got ready, and manned by
a stout crew of such recent Christians that the demons of the strait had
first to be appeased by two tins of salmon and six biscuit, paid
secretly in advance to Nebenua, the devil-priest. Then, when all was
ready, even to the breaker of brackish water, a forty-pound tin of
biscuit, two hundred fresh nuts, medicine chest, compass, and five
pounds of niggerhead tobacco by way of petty cash, the whole expe