282 MYSTIC ISLES 



It came upon the Papeete people like a tidal wave out 

 of the sea, or like a cyclone that devastates a Paumotu 

 atoll, but, entre nous, it had been brooding for months. 

 Fish had been getting dearer and dearer for a long time, 

 and householders had complained bitterly. They re- 

 called the time when for a franc one could buy enough 

 delicious fish for a family feast. They called the 

 taata hara, the native anglers, cochons, hogs, and they 

 discussed when they gathered in the clubs, or when 

 ladies met at market, the weakness of the authorities in 

 allowing the extortion. But nothing was done. The 

 extortion continued, and the profanity increased. At 

 the Cercle Bouganville Captain Goeltz and the other re- 

 tired salts banged the tables and said to me: 



"Sacre reding ote! is it that the indigenes pay the gov- 

 ernor or give him fish free ? Are we French citizens to 

 die of hunger that savages may ride in les Fords?" 



They shouted for Doctor Funks, and drank damna- 

 tion to the regime that let patriots suffer to profit les 

 canaques. But, in reality, the governor months ago had 

 secretly begun a plan to help them. 



One day the governor, his good lady being gone to 

 visit at Raiatea, had given his cook three francs to buy 

 fish for the dejeuner at the palace. When they came 

 on the table, a bare bite for each of the company, the 

 governor had called in the chef. 



"Mais, I gave you three francs for the fish, n'est-ce 

 pas?" 



''Mais, vous don' lai moi free franc, out, ouiT an- 

 swered the Chinese. "Moi don'lai canaque po' po'sson." 



The governor had led in the chorus of sdcres and 

 diables. All at the table were of the redingote family, 



