OF THE SOUTH SEAS 315 



rushed from the Place du Gouvernement, lighting the 

 way of the retraite, now more furious even than planned. 

 The band struck up, "There '11 be a Hot Time in the 

 Old Town To-night," the drum and bugle made warlike 

 notes, and down the rue de Rivoli we went madly to- 

 ward the conflagration sighted by the leader. After 

 the band and the flambeaux-bearers danced the jolly 

 commoners, with here and there a more important pair 

 of legs, an English clerk, a tourist, or an official, all ex- 

 cited by the music, the torches, and the running to the 

 fire. The flambeaux reeled to and fro with the skip- 

 ping and leaping of their carriers, the multitude sang 

 loudly, and the music became broken as the leader lost 

 control of his men. They came to the house of the 

 hose-cart, and transformed themselves into firemen, lay- 

 ing down their instruments and harnessing themselves 

 to the lines. Away we went again, now at top speed. 

 Other carts with apparatus dashed into the Broom 

 Road from side streets and caught up with us. 



The pullers yelled warnings in Tahitian to those who 

 might impede their way or be run over. The stir was 

 tremendous, for fires were rare and greatly feared. 

 The regulations of the possession and storage of com- 

 bustibles were severe, even a wagon or handcart con- 

 taining as little as one can of kerosene being compelled 

 to fly a red flag. 



After a mile we came to the fire, a Chinese restaurant 

 beside a little creek and in a cocoanut-grove. The roof 

 had fallen in and there were reports that a woman and 

 two children had been killed. Two men with quart 

 cans threw water from the stream on the edge of the 

 blaze. 



