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Mystic Isles of the South Seas. by Frederick O'Brien
page 155 of 521 (29%)
in pleasures, fiery in movement for the nonce, and relapsing into
stolidity. I can see why Landers, who takes what he will of womankind
in these islands, still dominates in the trading, and bends most
people his way. The animal way is the way here. The way of the city,
of mere subtlety, of avoidance of issues, of intellectual control,
is not the way of Polynesia. Bulk and sinew and no fear of God or
man are the rules of the game south of the line, as "north of 53."

With Landers dancing, so must the others. Hobson had dropped in,
and he, David, McHenry, Schlyter, and Lying Bill, trod a measure,
and I, though with only a Celtic urge and a couple of years in Hawaii
to teach me, faced Temanu. The bandsmen could not remain still, and,
with Kelly to play the accordion, the rout became general. McHenry
did not molest Hobson, who remained.

When we retired from the scene late at night, the upaupa was still
active. We went to the house of Pai, a handsome native woman, whose
half-caste husband was Mr. Fuller. There were only three beds in the
house, which Landers, Lying Bill, and McHenry fell on before any one
else could claim them. I contented myself with a mat on the veranda,
and noticed that, besides the remainder of our party, Pai and her
tane were also on that level.

At half past two in the morning we lay down. I could not sleep. From
the bower the song and music rang out continuously, mingled with
laughter and the sounds of shuffling feet.

I got up at five, and with a pareu about me, followed the stream until
I found a delicious pool, where I bathed for an hour, while I read
"The Ballad of Reading Gaol." The level land between the sea and
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