her lift her warm lips to Jolly Cauldron. It was blasphemy; yet before it Guy was powerless. He could not attempt further to release Kum-Kum from a state which was satisfactory to her.
Standards of beauty are different the world over. The Chinese girl binds up her feet until she is a virtual cripple. The Siamese belle puts brass rings about her neck, rings that are riveted on never to be removed. At intervals others are added until her neck is eight or ten inches long. Beauty in some sections of Africa consists of putting huge chunks of cork through the lobes of the ears until they dangle almost to the shoulders, gruesome pendants of flesh. In Borneo the natives prick their faces with needles until they bleed, and daub the raw wounds with bits of cotton until the fuzzy appearance of their skins make it seem as though they have been out in a blizzard. And all this is done in the name of beauty, in order to attract attention. Beauty in the eyes of such people has a far different meaning from what it has to us. Therefore it is not so absurd that Kum-Kum, who had always lived in the South Seas, should be influenced by South Sea standards. To her, Jolly Cauldron was not repulsive. His very wildness was attractive to her. She admired his forcefulness, his strength and his courage.
At heart we are all pagans. The veneer of civilization is very thin.
"I told you in the beginning," said Jolly Cauldron, "when we started our civilization on this island that there was one man too many. Any community that has more than one man cannot get along. Therefore you've got to go. The canoe is ready. I fixed it myself. Last night when I saw you slink from the house like a snake I imagined that you were desirous of using one, so I circled down to the beach. I prepared everything for you. No one can say that I am not willing to do my share of work."
As he spoke he struck Guy upon the mouth so terrifically that he went sprawling in a heap a dozen feet away. He groaned slightly. Blood flowed from his lips. As he fell, Kum-Kum sprang forward. She stooped over him and pressed her lips to his. As consciousness departed, he felt happier than Pygmalion. Pain was forgotten, blood mattered not at all. Kum-Kum had kissed him. He was richer than kings.
Jolly Cauldron lifted his inert body and cast it into the canoe. He pushed it away from the beach, wading out until the water was above his waist to make sure it would catch the current. Then he returned and took Kum-Kum into his arms.
Meanwhile Guy lay sprawled in the canoe like a lifeless thing. His forehead was burning. It was not the sun that made the air so hot. It was his brain. Fever had returned to him. The water was yellow-gold. The sky, too, was of an orange coppery hue. So humid was the air it seemed to have a luminous texture, a tapestry of bronze out of which might have been fashioned a gorgeous garment for Kum-Kum. The far horizon was not visible. Sky, sea and air all were blended in one molten ball of haze.
Guy gazed foolishly about. Life was flowing past him. All things moved. Only he was inert. Gradually his reasonings became more incoherent. He tried to distinguish souls in the air about him. He gazed intently into the vivid golden haze, and as he gazed, it seemed as though he saw a schooner bearing down upon him, a schooner with all sails set, speeding toward him as silently and beautiful as though it were part of the mist. As he beheld it, the last spark of his reason flickered out, for he recognized The Poppy Pearl, as smart and trim as
