in a subtler sense, ties that bound us
together. No wonder Kemper's behaviour had slightly irritated me.

I looked up at the silver moon; I glanced at Kemper's unlovely bulk,
swathed in a blanket; I contemplated the dog-tent with, perhaps, that
slight trace of sentiment which a semi-tropical moon is likely to inspire
even in a jellyfish. And suddenly I remembered Grue and looked for him.

He was accustomed to sleep in his boat, but I did not see him in either
of the boats. Here and there were a few lumpy shadows in the moonlight,
but none of them was Grue lying prone on the ground. Where the devil had
he gone?

Cautiously I untied my ankle string, rose in my pajamas, stepped into my
slippers, and walked out through the moonlight.

There was nothing to hide Grue, no rocks or vegetation except the
solitary palm on the back-bone of the reef.

I walked as far as the tree and looked up into the arching fronds. Nobody
was up there. I could see the moonlit sky through the fronds. Nor was
Grue lying asleep anywhere on the other side of the coral ridge.

And suddenly I became aware of all my latent distrust and dislike for the
man. And the vigour of my sentiments surprised me because I really had
not understood how deep and thorough my dislike had been.

Also, his utter disappearance struck me as uncanny. Both boats were
there; and there were many leagues of sea to the nearest coast.

Troubled and puzzled I turned and walked back to the dead embers of the
fire. Kemper had merely changed the timbre of his snore to a whistling
aria, which at any other time would have enraged me. Now, somehow, it
almost comforted me.

Seated on the shore I looked out to sea, racking my brains for an
explanation of Grue's disappearance. And while I sat there racking them,
far out on the water a little flock of ducks suddenly scattered and rose
with frightened quackings and furiously beating wings.

For a moment I thought I saw a round, dark object on the waves where the
flock had been.

And while I sat there watching, up out of the sea along the reef to my
right crawled a naked, dripping figure holding a dead duck in his mouth.

Fascinated, I watched it, recognising Grue with his ratty black hair all
plastered over his face.

Whether he caught sight of me or not, I don't know; but he suddenly
dropped the dead duck from his mouth, turned, and dived under water.

It was a grim and horrid species of sport or pastime, this amphibious
bu