on. "The Small Eyes."

"Miope has rivers like Taka-Uku and Atuona," I said, relying on the
alleged canals of Mars to save my soul. "I have seen through a
_karahi mea tiohi i te fetu_, the Mirror Thing Through Which One
Looks At The Stars, long as a tree and big around as a pig. Miope
has people upon it."

"Are they Marquesans?"

"They must be Marquesans for there are islands," I replied.

"And _popoi_ and pigs?" demanded the _ena_-perfumed one.

"_Namu?_ Have they rum?" whispered the Ghost Girl, and nestled closer,
remembering that soon we would be at my own house.

I had confidence in Tetuahunahuna's stars. The Polynesians have
always had an excellent working knowledge of the heavens and were
deeply interested in astronomy. They knew the relative positions of
the stars, their changes and phases. They predicted weather changes
accurately, and kept in their memories periodicity charts so that
they are able to form estimates of what will be, by considering what
has been. They had a wonderful art of navigation, considering that
they had no compass, sextant, or other instrument, and that their
vessels were always comparatively small. The handling of canoes,
like swimming, is instinctive with them, and no white ever compares
with them in skill.

Our boat doubled Point Teachoa, and we were in the Bay of Traitors.
The wind suddenly fell flat, and we rowed several miles to the beach.
A score of lights moved about on the dark waters of the bay, and
fishermen shouted to us to come to them. We found Great Fern, my
landlord, with Apporo, Broken Plate with the Vagabond, and they had
several canoes full of fish. They were delighted at my return, and
rubbed noses with me over the gunwales.

Getting ashore at the stone steps of Taka-Uka was a task worthy of
such boatsmen, in the darkness, the sea beating madly against the
cliffs. Tetuahunahuna listened to the smashing waves and peered for
the blacker outlines of the stairway and the faint gleam of the foam.
The boat approached; the sea leaped to break it against the rocks.
The steersman held it a second, and in that second you had to leap.
It is touch and go, and heaven help you! If you miss, you fall into
the sea, or the boat crushes you against the rocks. The swell sweeps
the place you land on, and you must ascend quickly to safety or find
hold against the suck of the retiring water.

Tetuahunahuna ran to the nearest house for a lantern and poles, and
while two remained i