laughing, and three great black caverns armed with fangs opened at me, and I witnessed a fine thing in the way of smiles. Something in the situation struck me as funny when I remembered that no native was allowed on this island, and there was I—a tourist with a kodak alone with these three choice specimens. It really was an appalling sight as they tore away at flesh and skin, grinning all over. I talked away to them, and we made signs and had quite an animated interview; but as we could not understand each other I cannot retail what it was all about. They were so pleased and I so amused, and suddenly I bethought me of the camera; here indeed was a chance not to be missed. I raised it gingerly, but at the click they all stopped and eyed it and me suspiciously. However, I laughed and nodded as I rapidly wound up the next number and pretended to show it to them. Each time, however, it clicked they looked disturbed. I showed them the landscape in its glass, but they appeared to make nothing of it. The sun was on them, they had a splendid background, and, as the photographers say, they "made a lovely picture."
[Alas for that camera! I regret this spoilt picture more than all the others put together. It would have been quite unique.]
Having exhausted all attempts at conversation, I wondered how I could withdraw gracefully, wondering also what was to be the end of this little episode. How easy for them to have seized me and bundled me into their canoe! However, they were in high good humour. We parted with many grins and waving of hands, and I strolled back to the seashore, thinking it, all the same, as well to be within sight of the Stettin. Presently the boat came, and when they landed I said to Herr Bruno that he had told me there was no one on the
