hunt."

Tavia was called, and being assured that the thing had rolled the
death roll, she came up the ladder, and with the aid of a long handled
hay rake, she just ventured to touch the strange thing.

"It's dead!"

This was the signal for a series of antics such as Tavia might imagine
to be popular in the Figi Islands when some real dainty morsel fell
into the camp kettle.

"Oh, let us see what it is!" ordered Cologne. "Maybe we won't have to
go trout fishing, it may do for dinner."

"It may, then again it may not," replied Tavia. "But May or Mamie,
let's haul her out."

Dorothy put her shoulder to the frame door, back of which the thing
was hidden.

"One, two, three!" she shoved it over. "Are you ready?"

"Let her go!" called Cologne, springing up on an old trunk.

But it didn't go, neither did it come.

The girls waited breathlessly.

"Pull him out, Tavia! What's the use standing there with a rake in