ak out a case of tobacco, Mr. Albright, and a
few trade-knives. There's a canoe now."

Old One-Eye, as befitted a chief and leader, paddled out alone, facing
peril for the rest of the tribe. As Carlsen leaned over the rail to help
the visitor up, he turned his head and remarked casually:

"They've dug up the money, Mr. Grief. The old beggar's loaded with it."

One-Eye floundered down on deck, grinning appeasingly and failing to
hide the fear he had overcome but which still possessed him. He was lame
of one leg, and this was accounted for by a terrible scar, inches deep,
which ran down the thigh from hip to knee. No clothes he wore whatever,
not even a string, but his nose, perforated in a dozen places and each
perforation the setting for a carved spine of bone, bristled like a
porcupine. Around his neck and hanging down on his dirty chest was a
string of gold sovereigns. His ears were hung with silver half-crowns,
and from the cartilage separating his nostrils depended a big English
penny, tarnished and green, but unmistakable.

"Hold on, Grief," Pankburn said, with perfectly assumed carelessness.
"You say they know only beads and tobacco. Very well. You follow my
lead. They've found the treasure, and we've got to trade them out of it.
Get the whole crew aside and lecture them that they are to be interested
only in the pennies. Savve? Gold coins must be beneath contempt, and
silver coins merely tolerated. Pennies are to be the only desirable
things."

Pankburn took charge of the trading. For the penny in One-Eye's nose he
gave ten sticks of tobacco. Since each stick cost David Grief a cent,
the bargain was manifestly unfair. But for the half-crowns Pankburn gave
only one stick each. The string of sovereigns he refused to consider.
The more he refused, the more One-Eye insisted on a trade. At last, with
an appearance of irritation and anger, and as a palpable concession,
Pankburn gave two sticks for the string, which was composed of ten
sovereigns.

"I take my hat off to you," Grief said to Pankburn that night at dinner.
"The situation is patent. You've reversed the scale of value. They'll
figure the pennies as priceless possessions and the sovereigns as
beneath price. Result: they'll hang on to the pennies and force us to
trade for sovereigns. Pankburn, I drink your health! Boy!--another cup
of tea for Mr. Pankburn."

VII

Followed a golden week. From dawn till dark a row of canoes rested
on their paddle