looked on us chuckled also. It was most unpleasant. Suddenly I saw the
American start. He got up, turned to us, and said: "I've got an idea.
MacGregor, get U. S. and Bob Lee." Then he quietly disappeared, the
eyes of the savages suspiciously following him. In a moment he came
back, bearing in his arms a mirror, a bottle of hair-oil, a couple of
bottles of perfume, a comb and brush, some variegated bath towels, and an
American flag. First he let the chief sniff at the bottles, and then,
pointing to the group on the shore, motioned to be taken over. In a few
moments he and MacGregor were being conveyed towards the shore in the
gathering dusk.

Four hours passed. It was midnight. There was noise of drums and
shouting on the shore, which did not relieve our suspense. Suddenly
there was a commotion in the canoes that still remained near the
Wilderness. The headman appeared before us, and beckoned to Blithelygo
and myself to come. The beckoning was friendly, and we hoped that
affairs had taken a more promising turn.

In a space surrounded with palms and ti-trees a great fire was burning.
There was a monotonous roll of the savage tom-tom and a noise of shouting
and laughter. Yes, we were safe, and the American had done it. The
Coliseum was open, MacGregor was ring-master, and U. S. and Bob Lee were
at work. This show, with other influences, had conquered Pango Wango.
The American flag was hoisted on a staff, and on a mighty stump there sat
Van Blaricom, almost innocent of garments, I grieve to say, with one whom
we came to know as Totimalu, Queen of Pango Wango, a half circle of
savages behind them. Van Blaricom and MacGregor had been naturalised by
having their shoulders lanced with a spear-point, and then rubbed against
the lanced shoulders of the chiefs. The taking of Pango Wango had not
been, I fear, a moral victory. Van Blaricom was smoking a cigar, and was