incredulous, and volunteered to go in alone, to swim it if
he couldn't borrow the dingey.

"They haven't forgotten the German cruiser," Grief explained. "And I'll
wager that bush is alive with men right now. What do you think, Mr.
Carlsen?"

That veteran adventurer of the islands was emphatic in his agreement.

In the late afternoon of the second day Grief ordered a whaleboat into
the water. He took his place in the bow, a live cigarette in his mouth
and a short-fused stick of dynamite in his hand, for he was bent on
shooting a mess of fish. Along the thwarts half a dozen Winchesters were
placed. Albright, who took the steering-sweep, had a Mauser within reach
of hand. They pulled in and along the green wall of vegetation. At times
they rested on the oars in the midst of a profound silence.

"Two to one the bush is swarming with them--in quids," Albright
whispered.

Pankburn listened a moment longer and took the bet. Five minutes later
they sighted a school of mullet. The brown rowers held their oars. Grief
touched the short fuse to his cigarette and threw the stick. So short
was the fuse that the stick exploded in the instant after it struck the
water. And in that same instant the bush exploded into life. There were
wild yells of defiance, and black and naked bodies leaped forward like
apes through the mangroves.

In the whaleboat every rifle was lifted. Then came the wait. A hundred
blacks, some few armed with ancient Sniders, but the greater portion
armed with tomahawks, fire-hardened spears, and bone-tipped arrows,
clustered on the roots that rose out of the bay. No word was spoken.
Each party watched the other across twenty feet of water. An old,
one-eyed black, with a bristly face, rested a Snider on his hip, the
muzzle directed at Albright, who, in turn, covered him back with the
Mauser. A couple of minutes of this tableau endured. The stricken fish
rose to the surface or struggled half-stunned in the clear depths.

"It's all right, boys," Grief said quietly. "Put down your guns and
over the side with you. Mr. Albright, toss the tobacco to that one-eyed
brute."

While the Rapa men dived for the fish, Albright threw a bundle of
trade tobacco ashore. The one-eyed man nodded his head and writhed his
features in an attempt at amiability. Weapons were lowered, bows unbent,
and arrows put back in their quivers.

"They know tobacco," Grief announced, as they rowed back aboard. "We'll
have visitors. You'll bre