uate his demand.

"Arneka!" repeated the negro.

This told Godfrey nothing, neither the geographical name borne by the
island, nor its position in the Pacific. He could not remember such a
name; it was probably a native one, little known to geographers.

However, Carefinotu did not cease from looking at the two white men, not
without some stupor, going from one to the other as if he wished to fix
in his mind the differences which characterized them. The smile on his
mouth disclosed abundant teeth of magnificent whiteness which Tartlet
did not examine without a certain reserve.

"If those teeth," he said, "have never eaten human flesh may my fiddle
burst up in my hand."

"Anyhow, Tartlet," answered Godfrey; "our new companion no longer looks
like the poor beggar they were going to cook and feed on! That is the
main point!"

What particularly attracted the attention of Carefinotu were the weapons
carried by Godfrey and Tartlet--as much the musket in the hand as the
revolver in the belt.

Godfrey easily understood this sentiment of curiosity. It was evident
that the savage had never seen a fire-arm. He said to himself that this
was one of those iron tubes which had launched the thunder-bolt that had
delivered him? There could be no doubt of it.

Godfrey, wishing to give him, not without reason, a high idea of the
power of the whites, loaded his gun, and then, showing to Carefinotu a
red-legged partridge that was flying across the prairie about a hundred
yards away, he shouldered it quickly, and fired. The bird fell.

At the report the black gave a prodigious leap, which Tartlet could not
but admire from a choregraphic point of view. Then repressing his fear,
and seeing the bird with broken wing running through the grass, he
started off and swift as a greyhound ran towards it, and with many a
caper, half of joy, half of stupefaction, brought it back to his master.

Tartlet then thought of displaying to Carefinotu that the Great Spirit
had also favoured him with the power of the lightning; and perceiving a
kingfisher tranquilly seated on an old stump near the river was bringing
the stock up to his cheek, when Godfrey stopped him with,--

"No! Don't fire, Tartlet!"

"Why not?"

"Suppose that by some mishap you were not to hit the bird, think how we
would fall in the estimation of the nigger!"

"And why should I not hit him?" replied Tartlet with some acerbity. "Did
I not, during the battle, at more than a hun