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Fara's house stood well back from the road with its well-kept lawn shaded by majestic breadfruit and mango trees. He came out to meet them as they approached his steps, and greeted them in very fair French. They were then introduced to Mrs. Fara and a married daughter and her husband, while a numerous brood of bashful curious grandchildren peeped up at them from below the verandah railings. Chairs were brought forth, and when a child had been sent for his spectacles, Fara scanned Tyson's note of introduction with ceremonial gravity. He glanced benevolently at them over the top of his spectacles.

"Good," he said. "Mr. Tyson's friends are my friends. You are welcome here, as long as you wish to stay."

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The sun was an hour high the following morning when they started down the lagoon. McLeod sat in the stern of the canoe Fara had loaned them, trying to keep it on a direct course while Hardie paddled in the bow.

"Don't put so much muscle into it, Alan," he said. "Let me get the hang of steering first."