OF THE SOUTH SEAS 153 



tional dance of Tahiti, the same movement generally as 

 that of Temanu, but without voice and more skilled. 

 One saw at once that she was the premiere danseuse of 

 this isle, for all took their seats. Her rhythmical sway- 

 ing and muscular movements were of a perfection un- 

 excelled, and soon infected the bandsmen, now with all 

 discipline unleashed. One sprang from the table and 

 took his position before her. Together they danced, 

 moving in unison, or the man answering the woman's 

 motions when her agitation lulled. The spectators were 

 absorbed in the hula. They clapped hands and played, 

 and when the first man wearied, another took his place. 

 Mamoe stopped, and drank a goblet of rum. Her 

 eyes wandered toward our end of the table, and she came 

 to us. She put her hand on Landers. The big trader, 

 who was dressed in white linen, accepted the challenge. 

 He pushed back the bench and stood up. 



Landers in looks was out of a novel. If Henry 

 Dixey, the handsome actor, whose legs made his fame 

 before he might attest his head's capacity, were ex- 

 panded to the proportions of Muldoon, the wrestler, he 

 might have been Landers. Apparently about thirty- 

 three, really past forty, he was as big as the young 

 "David" of the Buonarroti, of the most powerful and 

 graceful physique, with curling brown hair, and almost 

 perfect features; a giant of a man, as cool as an igloo, 

 with a melodious Australasian voice pitched low, and a 

 manner with men and women that was irresistible. 



He faced Mamoe, and Temanu seized the accordion 

 and broke into a mad upaupa. An arm's-length from 

 Mamoe Landers simulated every pulsation of her quak- 

 ing body. He was an expert, it was plain, and his 



