In vain we tried to explain the necessity of proper rites. His only
rejoinder was, "You're too late."

But what made our sailor-man maddest was the information that the yawl
had to be moved.

"Here I be as snug as a bug in a rug," he stormed, "an' you go
gallivantin' round marrying an' what all, an' now you show up an boost
me out. Its e-viction, that's what it is, e-viction."

This was a long speech for William Henry Thomas; fortunately it was
his last. While he was delivering it I heard a slight splash and turned
just in time to see a seal-like form slip over the Kawa's counter and
disappear. I watched in vain for her reappearance. Doubtless like all
Filbertines she could stay under water for hours at a time. After that
Thomas sullenly did Triplett's bidding and half-heartedly assisted in
the work of getting the Kawa into the atoll.

It was an arduous task. For four days we labored, working our vessel
close in shore opposite a clearing in the forest, where the outer
island was not more than quarter of a mile wide and free from trees.
Instructed by Triplett, we paved the highway to the lagoon with
cocoanuts. Our wives and friends thinking it was a game, assisted us.
If they had known it was work they would, of course, have knocked off
immediately. And then the promised storm broke and I saw Triplett's
plan.

It was such a storm as this, undoubtedly, that had struck us on July
4th. This time, crouched in the shelter of the near-by trees, clinging