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THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



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Photograph by Ralph Stock 



THE WRECK OF A FRENCH GUNBOAT ON THE REEFS OF MUREA, LAND OF THE 



LIZARD MEN 



The lizard men are supposed to have been agile dwarfs who lived on the almost inac- 

 cessible ledges of a mountain range, from which point of vantage they were accustomed to 

 make periodical raids on the coast settlements. 



Many years ago one John Masters 

 leased Palmerston Island from the Brit- 

 ish Government and, not believing in half 

 measures, took unto himself three native 

 wives. By each he had a large and 

 healthy family, which he reared in strict 

 accordance with his own standards of 

 social usage. That they were sound 

 standards is evidenced in the people of 

 Palmerston today. They read, write, and 

 -peak English, this last with an accent 

 vaguely reminiscent of the southwest of 

 England. They are courteous, hospitable, 

 and honest to a degree nothing short of 

 startling, these days, and although natu- 

 rally inbred, they do not show it, either 

 mentally or physically. 



One thing alone troubles the John 

 Masters of today. To whom do he and 

 his island belong? The war has changed 

 all things. The Cook group, of which 

 Palmerston has been declared a far-flung 

 unit, is administered by New Zealand. 

 Is "Mister Masters himself" to be taxed, 

 governed, and generally harried by a peo- 

 ple who hardly existed when his father 

 took over Palmerston. It looks like it. 



Au revcir, little island. Some day in 

 the not-very-distant future a decrepit, 

 irritable old man will return to your 

 hospitable shores in search of peace, and 

 if you are then as you are now, which 

 Heaven send ! he will assuredly find it. 



We of the Dream Ship had no large- 

 scale chart of the Tonga group, our next 

 port of call ; so that when we sighted the 

 island of Tonga Tabu at dusk, two weeks 

 later, we hove to and waited for dawn. 

 Even then two more days and nights 

 elapsed before we had found the Eastern 

 pass through the maze of reefs that sur- 

 round the island of Tonga Tabu, and 

 hove to in the passage awaiting a pilot. 



We could see his station and flagstaff 

 on a sandy islet, but no flag in answer to 

 our own. We waited and continued to 

 wait, while a four-knot current carried 

 us up the ever-narrowing channel to 

 within fifty feet of the coral bar at its 

 end. And then it was that the motor 

 auxiliary that I have so consistently re- 

 viled throughout these pages vindicated 

 itself by saving the Dream Ship from 

 certain destruction. It went ! Literally 



