Every evening
before sundown, many of the women and some of the well-to-do
men, and a few whites, used to ride on the plain that
stretches along the shore between the fringe of palm groves
and the mountain spurs. I had seen Arakeeta amongst them
before the LOOHOU feast. She had given this up now, and why?
Night after night I hovered about the hut. When she was in
the verandah I whispered her name. She started and peered
into the dark, hesitated, then fled. Again the same thing
happened. She had heard me, she knew that I was there, but
she came not; no, wiser than I, she came not. And though I
sighed:
What is worth
The rest of Heaven, the rest of earth?
the shrewd little wench doubtless told herself: 'A quiet
life, without the fear of the broomstick.'
Fred was impatient to be off, I had already trespassed too
long on the kind hospitality of General Miller, neither of us
had heard from England for more than a year, and the
opportunities of trading vessels to California seldom
offered. A rare chance came - a fast-sailing brig, the
'Corsair,' was to leave in a few days for San Francisco. The
captain was an Englishman, and had the repute of being a boon
companion and a good caterer. We - I, passively - settled to
go.
