Читать книгу The Dark River онлайн

59 страница из 94

"You're going to Fara's house, ain't you?" he asked Hardie, as they got down. "I'll take you on there in a tick. Won't be half an hour."

Hardie smiled, inwardly, at this island conception of a "tick."

"How much farther is it?" he asked.

"'Bout a quarter of a mile."

"I shouldn't mind walking. What do you say, Mac?"

"All right, then," said Tihoni. "You can't miss Fara's place. It's the last one you come to, on the lagoon side of the road."

"What sort of a man is Fara?" McLeod asked.

"Numera hoé!" Tihoni replied, warmly. "He's a great friend of Mr. Tyson's. They go fishing together."

"That's all we need to know," said McLeod. "Thanks for the ride."

The driver grinned. "Hope you enjoyed it," he said. "I'll leave your things at Fara's."

The two men walked slowly along the grass-grown road, looking about them with lively interest. Turning to glance back, they discovered a crowd of small children following them at a distance, and from every house along the road they caught glimpses of heads peeping out at them from doorways and windows. The road dwindled to a footpath at Fara's house. Wheeled vehicles could go no further, and from this point on, around the windward, southeast end of the peninsula to the settlement of Teahupoo, twenty miles distant, the few inhabitants were obliged to travel by canoe.