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Walter E. Traprock - The Cruise of the Kawa
the eye could reach and farther. Mixed up with this dreadful reality were visions of my past. I seemed to
be peering into one of those vast, empty auditoriums that had greeted my opera, "Jumping Jean," when it
was finally produced, privately.
"Help! Help!" I screamed, reverting to English.
Suddenly Kippy seized the taa-taa from my nerveless grasp. Half closing it, she swam directly
toward the monster into whose widening throat she thrust the sharp-pointed instrument, in, in, until I
thought she herself would follow it. And then, as she had intended, the point pierced the
wak-wak's tonsil.
With a shriek of pain his jaws began to close and, on the instant, Kippy yanked the handle with all her
might, opening the taa-taa to its full extent in the beast's very narrows.
Choked though he was, unable for the moment to bite or expel the outer air and submerge, the brute was
still dangerous. Kippy was towing me shoreward at a speed which caused the sea to foam about my
bladders but the wak-wak still pursued us. A second time my dauntless mate rose to the occasion.
With amazing buoyancy she lifted herself to a half-seated position on the surface of the water and poured
forth the most astounding imitation of the motherhood cry of the fatu-liva.
"Biloo-ow-ow-ow-ow-zing-aaa!"
Again, and yet again, it rang across the waters, and in the distance, flying at incredible speed, I saw the
rainbow host of fatu-livas coming towards us!
Gallant fowl! Shall I ever forget how they circled about us. One of their clan, as they supposed, was in
dire danger and they functioned as only a fatu-liva can. Flying at an immense height, in battle
formation, they began laying eggs with marvelous precision. The first two struck the wak-wak
square on the nose and he screamed with pain. The third, landing corner-wise, put out his right eye and
he began to thrash in helpless circles. The fourth was a direct hit on my left temple. "Face-of-the-Moon"
passed over the horizon into oblivion whence he emerged to find himself in a tree, his brow eased with
an alova-leaf poultice, his heart comforted by Daughter of Pearl and Coral.
CHAPTER VII
Excursions beyond the outer reef. Our aquatic wives. Premonitions. A picnic on the mountain. Hearts
and flowers. Whinney delivers a geological dissertation. Babai finds a fatu-liva nest. The strange flower
in my wife's hair.
As I look back on the months which followed I can truthfully say that they were the happiest of my
existence. The semi-detachment of our island domesticity was a charm against tedium; our family
reunions were joys.
Often we organized picnics to distant points. With hold-alls of panjandrus leaves packed with a
supply of breadfruit sandwiches, sun-baked cuttywink eggs and a gallon or two of hoopa, we
would go to one of the lovely retreats with which our wives were familiar.
Occasionally we sailed in the Kawa, at which times the intrepid Triplett accompanied us. Remembering
those happy times I now realize that his presence cast the only shadow across the bright sunlight of our
days. Why this was I could not have said, - indeed I should have probably denied that it was so, yet the
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