OF THE SOUTH SEAS 253 



''Alors/* replied the physician, "where has he taken 

 meals?" 



"Lovaina's, Fanny's, and some with the Chinese." 



The Frenchman threw his arms around the door in 

 mock horror. He gagged and spat, exciting the cow- 

 boy into a fever. 



''Oh! la! la!'' he shouted. "Les Chinois! Certaine- 

 ment, he is ill. He has eaten dog. Amoeban dysen- 

 tery! Mais, monsieur, it is a dispensation of the bon 

 dieu that he has not hydrophobia or the leprosy. Les 

 Chinois! Sacre nom de chien!'' 



Lovaina had often accused her rivals, the Chinese 

 restaurateurs, of serving dog meat for beef or lamb. 

 Perhaps it was so, for in China more than five millions 

 of dogs are sold for food in the market every year, and 

 in Tahiti I knew that the Chinese ate the larvse of wasps, 

 and M. Martin had mountain rats caught for his table. 



The cow-boy's room was bare and cheerless, but two 

 Tahitian girls of fourteen or fifteen years of age were 

 in it. One was sitting on his bed, holding his hand, 

 and the other was in a rocking-chair. They were very 

 pretty and were dressed in their fete gowns. The girl 

 on the bed was almost white, but her sister fairly brown. 

 Probably they had different fathers. They told me 

 that they had seen Baillon on the streets, had fallen in 

 love with him, and though they had never spoken to him, 

 wanted to comfort him now that he was sick. Jealousy 

 did not rankle in their hearts, apparently. That ab- 

 sence often shocked non-Polynesians. Brothers shared 

 wives, and sisters shared husbands all over old Poly- 

 nesia. 



This pair of love-lorn maidens had never exchanged 



