sun
flooded the mesa, disclosing myriad fern-fronds and mosses and
colored petals waving in the light breeze as Le Brunnec and I went
down to the stream to bathe.

Alas! I lolled there on the bank, thinking to gaze my fill at all
this loveliness, and sat upon the _puke_, a feathery plant exquisite
to the eye, but a veritable bunch of gadflies for pricking meanness.
It is a sensitive shrub, retreating at man's approach, its petioles
folding from sight, but with all its modesty it left me a stinging
reminder that I had failed to respect its privacy.

At noon we came to the hill that rises from the plateau, and found
at its base a cistern, the sole token we had seen of the domain of
man, except the dogs and cats that had returned to the primitive. It
was a basin cut in the solid rock, and doubtless had been the water
supply of the tribes that dwelt here hemmed in by enemies. There was
about it the vague semblance of an altar, and in the brush near it
we saw the black remains of a mighty _paepae_ like that giant Marai
of Papara in Tahiti, which itself seemed kin to the great pyramid
temple of Borobodo in Java. Melancholy memorials these of man, who
is so like the gods, but who passes like a leaf in the wind.

Lolling in the stream that overflowed the edge of the ancient cistern,
we discussed our plans. Le Brunnec was convinced that the _eva_,
which we had found in considerable numbers, was a rubber-tree. He
said that rubber was obtained from many trees, vines, roots, and
plants, and that the sap of the _eva_, when dried and treated, had
all the necessary bouncing qualities. We were to estimate the number
of _eva_ trees on the plateau and size up the value of the land for
a plantation. Thus we might turn into gold that poison tree whose
reddish-purple, alluring fruit has given so many Marquesans escape
from life's bitterness, whose juice wounded or mutilated warriors
drank to avoid pain or contempt.

Idling thus in the limpid water, we heard a voice and started up
surprised. A group of natives looked down upon us from the hill above,
and their leader was asking who were the strange _haoe_ who had come
to their valley.

Le Brunnec shouted his name--Proneka, in the native tongue--and
after council they shouted down an invitation to breakfast. We had
no guns, or, indeed, any other clothing than a towel, our horses
being tethered at some distance, but we climbed the hill. Half way up
the steep ascent we were confronted b