320 MYSTIC ISLES 



A white-haired Australian woman, with a strong ac- 

 cent, favored Teaea, and when the Raratonga youth was 

 winning, shouted to Teaea: 



" 'It 'im 'arder, Ol' Peet! 'E's outa wind! Knock 

 'is shell hoif !" 



The Casino de Tahiti had two galleries, and in the 

 topmost, at a franc, five sous each, sat the little gods, as 

 with us. Others were perched on doors, on projections 

 of cornices, and in every nook. 



The fighters were naked except for breech-clouts. 

 They were barefooted. They wore their hair longish, 

 and it appeared like rough, black caps, which now and 

 again fell over their faces and was flung back by a toss 

 of their heads. They were handsome men, framed sym- 

 metrically, lithe, and healthy-looking. Their bodies 

 soon shone with the sweat. Their eyes, as soft as velvet 

 to begin, grew fiery as they punished each other. In 

 truth, this punishment was not severe from American 

 prize-ring standards. The islander was unused to 

 blows, and the gloves were of the biggest size, such as 

 those worn by business men in gymnasiums. 



Opeta had as seconds American beach-combers; and 

 Teaea, natives. They had all the pugilistic appurte- 

 nances of towels, bottles, etcetera, and fanned and 

 rubbed their men between rounds as if they were 

 matched for a fortune. 



Teaea had a green ribbon in his loin-cloth. He was 

 taller and heavier than Opeta, but showed his inferiority 

 quickly. They danced about and fiddled for an open- 

 ing, sparred for wind, and did all the fancy footwork of 

 the fifth-class fighter, but they seldom came together 

 except in clinches. The referee, the Christchurch Kid, 



