disappeared, she lay face downward in the water and watched. When the
fin reappeared she resumed her swimming. The monster was lazy--she
could see that. Without doubt he had been well fed since the
hurricane. Had he been very hungry, she knew he would not have
hesitated from making a dash for her. He was fifteen feet long, and
one bite, she knew, could cut her in half.

But she did not have any time to waste on him. Whether she swam or
not, the current drew away from the land just the same. A half hour
went by, and the shark began to grow bolder. Seeing no harm in her he
drew closer, in narrowing circles, cocking his eyes at her impudently
as he slid past. Sooner or later, she knew well enough, he would get
up sufficient courage to dash at her. She resolved to play first. It
was a desperate act she meditated. She was an old woman, alone in the
sea and weak from starvation and hardship; and yet she, in the face of
this sea tiger, must anticipate his dash by herself dashing at him.
She swam on, waiting her chance. At last he passed languidly by,
barely eight feet away. She rushed at him suddenly, feigning that she
was attacking him. He gave a wild flirt of his tail as he fled away,
and his sandpaper hide, striking her, took off her skin from elbow to
shoulder. He swam rapidly, in a widening circle, and at last
disappeared.

In the hole in the sand, covered over by fragments of metal roofing,
Mapuhi and Tefara lay disputing.

"If you had done as I said," charged Tefara, for the thousandth time,
"and hidden the pearl and told no one, you would have it now."

"But Huru-Huru was with me when I opened the shell--have I not told