coal passers was supplemented by Raratonga natives, lounging about
the gangway and sitting on the rails. On the wharf hundreds of people
had gathered as usual to see the liner off. Lovaina was there in a
pink lace dress, seated in her carriage, with Vava at the horse's
head. Prince Hinoe had gathered about him a group of pretty girls,
to whom he was promising a feast in the country. All the tourists,
the loafers, the merchants, and the schooner crews were there, too,
and the iron-roofed shed in which it is forbidden to smoke was filled
with them. The Noa-Noa blew and blew her whistle, but still she
did not go. The lines to the wharf were loosened, the captain was
on the bridge, the last farewells were being called and waved, but
there was delay. Word was spread that some of the crew were missing,
and as at the best the vessel was short-handed, it had to tarry.

At last came three of the missing men. They, too, had welcomed the
New Year, and their gait was as at sea when the ship rises and falls
on the huge waves. They wheeled in a barrow a mate whose mispoise
made self-locomotion impossible. The trio danced on the wharf, sang a
chantey about "whisky being the life of man," and declared they would
stay all their lives in Tahiti; that the "bloody hooker could bleedin'
well" go without them. They were ordered on board by M. Lontane,
with two strapping Tahitian gendarmes at his back.

If there are any foreigners the average British roustabout hates it
is French gendarmes, and the ruffians were of a mind to "beat them
up." They raised their fists in attitudes of combat, and suddenly
what had been a joyous row became a troublesome incident.

Sacré bleu! those scoundrels of English to menace the uniformed
patriots of the French republic! The second in command drew a revolver,