w lights of the ship had been carefully hooded away from
the sea, and the bird, spiraling lightly on air currents, drifted out
from land.

[Illustration]

The black bulk of the _Vulture_ was easy to find in the clearness of
the night. She was riding at anchor close inshore farther down the
coast, and final boatfuls of men were returning from the merchantman
carrying the last of the spoils. Sweeping by toward the beach Chris
saw that most of the bandit crew were already drunk, shouting and
carousing around fires where they roasted wild creatures they had
earlier killed. He noticed that a few Tahitians stood apart at the
joining of the palm forests and the sand, watching the coarse faces of
the drunken men. The Tahitians, fitting so well into the beauty of
their island, gold of skin and crowned with flowers, carrying
themselves with dignity, were as far removed as could be imagined from
the idea of pagan men. They contrasted sharply at that moment with
those from "civilization," who in filthy rags of clothes and wild
disorder of gestures and voices staggered about aimlessly gorging
food and drinking. The watching pagans glanced from the brawling
pirates back a short distance down the beach where already a few
bodies had been washed ashore from the fight. Their distaste and
bewilderment were plain.

Chris soared high above the din and the smoke of the fires, and then
seeing Osterbridge Hawsey being rowed back to the _Vulture_, followed
after.

Osterbridge Hawsey had two baskets at his feet. One was filled with
carefully chosen fruits, and the other with the exotic flowers of the
island. Hastily changing himself into a green parakeet, Chris alighted
on the rail of the _Vulture_ just as Osterbridge Hawsey reached the
top of the ladder. Determined to make a good impression and perhaps
catch Osterbridge's fancy, Chris, in his bright parakeet plumage,
bobbed his head and sidled up and down the ship's rail, eyeing
Osterbridge Hawsey with his head on one side as he had seen parakeets
do.

The maneuver succeeded, for Osterbridge, with a little cry of
pleasure, declared himself enchanted.

"I must have that little bird!" he exclaimed, and carefully taking off
his fashionable hat--even more out of place in the tropics than it had
been on the Georgetown docks--he slapped it quickly over the parakeet
which allowed itself to be captured.

This, Osterbridge Hawsey's own prize, made him crow with delight.
Clambering as gracefu