"Aloho-ate, lazy one!" she called gaily from below. "Make haste! The
world is always loveliest while it lies waiting for the sun!"

That day, perhaps, from among them all, lived longest within the memory
of young Harold, - the porpoises playing fearlessly around her canoe as
the princess, with graceful, effortless strokes, paddled around one
after another of the pointed tongues of rock; the flying fish, skimming
the surface of the ocean until, by virtue of their speed alone, they
rose like gleaming bows of silver from the foam. Intent to show him all
her treasures, Wildenai guided him to a quiet stretch of water lying
close to shore within the shadow of tall cliffs which rose at that point
with precipitous abruptness from the sea itself.

"Here are my gardens that grow under the water," she explained, as they
glided above the spot. "Look well at them. They are most beautiful."

And gazing down at her command through the clear green into the luminous
depths below, he caught glimpses of these gardens of the sea where
goldfish darted like tropical birds among the branches of tall tree-like
stalks of swaying seaweed, and strange shapes of jade and blue floated
in the shadows.

"Is it not wonderful?" she asked.

"It is indeed, my Wildenai," he answered earnestly. "Never in all my
travels, methinks, have I seen aught before like this your island here!
It seems to me indeed a charmed land, a kind of magic isle!"

One day it rained, the last belated rain of winter. But even the storm
brought pleasures of its own, for, seated on the pile of skins beside