24 MYSTIC ISLES 



D 'ye know, I 've learned one thing — that money means 

 very little in life. AVhy, in Aitutaki you can't sell fish. 

 The law forbids it, but do you suppose people don't fish 

 on that account ? Why, a man goes out in his canoe and 

 fishes like mad. He brings in his canoe, and as he ap- 

 proaches the beach he 's blowing his pu, the conch-shell, 

 to let people know he has fish. Fish to sell or to barter? 

 Not at all. He wants the honor of giving them away. 

 Now, if he makes a big catch, do you see, he has renown. 

 People say, 'There 's Taiere, who caught all those fish 

 yesterday.' That 's worth more to him than money. 

 But if he could sell those fish, if there was competition, 

 only the small-minded, the business souls, would fish. 

 I 'm not a socialist, but Aitutaki shows that, released 

 from the gain, man will serve his fellows for their plau- 

 dits. And, mind you, no person took more fish than he 

 needed. There was no greed." 



"That's rot!" broke in Hallman, who entered the 

 smoking-room. "The natives are frauds. You 've got 

 to kick 'em around or bribe 'em to do any work. 

 Have n't I lived with 'em twenty years ? They 're 

 swine." 



"It depends on what you bring them and what you 

 seek," said McBirney. "Ah, well, it 's getting too civ- 

 ilized in Raratonga. There 's an automobile threaten- 

 ing to come there, though you could drive around the 

 island in half an hour. And they 're teaching the Ma- 

 oris English. I must get away to the west'ard soon. 

 It 's a fact there are two laws for every inhabitant." 



Would I, too, "go native"? Become enamored of 

 those simple, primitive places and ways, and want to 

 keep going westward? Would I, too, fish to be lion- 



