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Naia sprang out and, taking various small parcels handed up to her, went along a footpath toward the house which stood midway on the point, at some distance from the riverbank. A slender, middle-aged native woman stood awaiting her at the top of the steps leading to the verandah. She kissed the girl lightly on the cheek as she helped to relieve her of the parcels.

"You are late, Naia," she said. "I've been expecting you since midday."

"Scold Papa Ruau for that," the girl replied. "He met some of his old fishing friends. It was one of his parau-parau days. I had to drag him away."

"You didn't forget the tin of kerosene?"

"No." She sighed happily as she seated herself on a sofa. "It is good to be at home again. Two days at Tautira are enough--more than enough."

"You mean it? You like home best?"

"Much the best. Mother, do you realize that it's been six months since you were last in Tautira? All of your friends were asking if you meant never to go again."

"I know. I shall, soon, on my way to Moorea. I must see to the copra making on our lands there."