I lifted myself into a sitting
position, and the movement disturbed the heap of shell. Part of the pile
rattled down upon the planks of the wharf, and the Maori and his pupil
stopped singing and stared at me as if they were much surprised at
finding any one within hearing distance. The wharf had appeared
deserted, and I gave them a start by crawling from underneath the awning
I had made from the copra bag. The Maori wore a dirty khaki coat, with a
pair of trousers reaching to his knees, while the Fijian, instead of
being short-rigged in shirt and sulu, sported a full suit of duck.
"Good afternoon, boss," said the Maori, trying to wipe the look of
surprise from his face with a grin. "Mighty hot afternoon, isn't it,
boss?"
"It is," I answered. "If I knew where that white waterfall is I'd go and
stand under it for a few minutes."
The small Fijian gave a little gurgle of surprise and looked up at his
big teacher, who regarded me with eyes of wonder.
"What white waterfall, boss?" he asked blandly.
"The one you were singing about," I cried.
The Maori smiled sweetly.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25