OF THE SOUTH SEAS 483 



often to reassure myself that Raiere's gigantic figure 

 loomed in the farther gloom. There was no danger 

 save in me ; the scene was peaceful, but for our own dis- 

 turbance of the night and the river, and not even a 

 breeze fluttered the dark leaves of the trees. The 

 mountain rose steeply at our backs, and constellations 

 appeared to rest upon its shadowy crest. 



At last we came to a place where a tiny natural dam 

 caused the stream to break in glints of white on a crooked 

 line of rocks, and pausing there, Raiere suddenly bent 

 over. He called peremptorily to Tahitua to bring him 

 the big lance, which the little boy carried along with the 

 bag. 



"Puhi! Haere mai!" he said in a low, but urgent, 

 voice. 



Tahitua flew through the ripples, and we all hurried 

 to see the new adventure. 



"Puhi! Puhi!" again said Raiere, and pointed to the 

 rocks. We cautiously stepped that way, and saw, ap- 

 parently asleep at the foot of the stones, a tangle of 

 huge eels. Their black and gray slate-colored bodies 

 lay inert in folds, as if they had gathered for a night's 

 good slumber, and not until Raiere, with unerring aim 

 thrust the gi'eat spear, with its half-dozen points of iron, 

 into one of them, did the others scatter in a mad swim 

 for safety. The mere transfixing of the eel did not al- 

 ways mean his securing, but another of us must put a 

 lance in the contorting curves and with quick and dex- 

 terous motion lift him to the bank where his struggles 

 might be ended with knife or rock. The release of him 

 for a second might permit him to wriggle to the river 

 and escape. 



