Idling thus in the limpid water, we heard a voice and started up surprised.  A group of natives looked down upon us from the hill above, and their leader was asking who were the strange haoe who had come to their valley.

Le Brunnec shouted his name—­Proneka, in the native tongue—­and after council they shouted down an invitation to breakfast.  We had no guns, or, indeed, any other clothing than a towel, our horses being tethered at some distance, but we climbed the hill.  Half way up the steep ascent we were confronted by a wild sow with eight piglets.  Le Brunnec said that one of them would be appreciated by our hosts, but the mother, surmising his intention, put her litter behind her and stood at bay.  To attempt the rape of the pork, naked, afoot, and unarmed, would have meant grievous wounds from those gnashing tusks, so we abandoned the gift and approached our hosts empty-handed.

We found them waiting for us in the Grotto of the Spine of the Chinaman, a shallow cave in the side of the hill.  There were seven of them, naked as ourselves, thick-lipped, their eyes ringed with the blue ama-ink and their bodies scrolled with it.  They had killed a bull the day before and had cooked the meat in bamboo tubes, steaming it in the earth until it was tender and tasty.  We gorged upon it, and then rested in the cool cave while we smoked.  They were curious to know why we were there, and asked if we were after beef.  I disclaimed this intention, and said that I was wondering if Ahao had not held many people once.

“Ai! E mea tiatohu hoi! Do you not know of the Piina of Fiti-nui?  Of the people that once were here? Aoe? Then I will tell you.”

While the pipe went from mouth to mouth, Kitu, the leader of the hunters, related the following: 

“The Piina of Fiti-nui had always lived here on the plateau of Ahao.  The wise men chronicled a hundred and twenty generations since the clan began.  That would be before Iholomoni built the temple in Iudea, that the priests of the new white gods tell us of.  The High Place of the Piina of Fiti-nui was old before Iholomoni was born.

“But, old as was the clan, there came a time when it grew small in number.  For longer than old remembered they had been at war with the Piina of Hana-uaua, who lived in the next valley below this plateau.  These two peoples were kinsman, but the hate between them was bitter.  The enemy gave the Piina of Fiti-nui no rest.  Their popoi pits were opened and emptied, their women were stolen, and their men seized and eaten.  Month after month and year after year the clan lost its strength.

“They had almost ceased to tattoo their bodies, for they asked what it served them when they were so soon to bake in the ovens of the Hana-uaua people.  They could not defeat the Hana-uaua, for they were small in number and the Hana-uaua were great.  The best fighters were dead.  The gods only could save the last of the tribe from the veinahae, the vampire who seizes the dead.