the westerly current would set us away to leeward again. But that night
a squall came up, and in half an hour we were running down to the land.
When the lights on the beach showed up we hove-to until daylight, and
then found the surf too heavy to let us land.


* * * * *


We got in close to the reef, and could see that the trader's
copra-house was full, for there were also hundreds of bags outside,
awaiting our boats. It was clearly worth staying for. The trader, a
tall, thin, pyjama-clad man, came down to the water's edge, waved his
long arm, and then turned back and sat down on a bag of copra. We went
about and passed the village again, and once more the long man came to
the water's edge, waved his arm, and retired to his seat.

In the afternoon we saw a native and Charley together among the bags;
then the native left him, and, as it was now low tide, the kanaka was
able to walk to the edge of the reef, where he signalled to us. Seeing
that he meant to swim off, the skipper went in as close as possible,
and backed his foreyard. Watching his chance for a lull in the yet
fierce breakers, the native slid over the reef and swam out to us as
only a Line Islander or a Tokelau man can swim.

"How's Charley?" we asked, when the dark man reached the deck.

"Who? Charley? Oh, he fine, plenty copra. Tapa my bowels are filled
with the sea--for one dollar! Here ARIKI VAKA (captain) and you TUHI
TUHI (supercargo)," said the native, removing from his perforated and