"He allows," said Triplett, jerking his thumb at the chief, "that we
orter git the Tree-with-Wings in out'er the wet. The question is,
where be she?"

I explained our anxieties to Ablutiluti who, after a glance at
Moolitonu's diagrammatic shoulder blades, immediately set out along
a winding path to the shore. I was surprised at the shortness of the
distance. A half-hour's walk brought us to the beach and there lay the
Kawa as handy as you please. She had been considerably tidied
up since our departure. Our blanket-sail had been stowed and between
the dingey-oars, which were rigged fore-and-aft, stretched a rope of
_eva-eva_ from which, to our surprise, hung an undershirt and a dainty
feminine _rigolo_. But no sign of William Henry Thomas. In vain we
shouted, "Kawa ahoy!" and hurled lumps of coral. All was mysteriously
quiet.

Triplett finally pulled out his Colt and, being a dead shot, drilled
the undershirt through the second button. This had the desired effect.
Our crew almost immediately appeared on deck and shouted peevishly,
"Hey there, quit it."

I will not repeat what we said in reply as this is a book for the home,
but it had a surprising result.

"Is _that_ so?" yelled William Henry Thomas and proceeded to step
jauntily over the rail and _walk_ in our direction. I knew he couldn't
swim a stroke and yet here he was, performing an apparent miracle right
in our faces. Then it suddenly dawned on me--he was walking on the coral
branches!