There came to me from Ranaloa last month a man, a Russian, a doctair, like you.

His name it was Marakinoff.

I take him to Ponape an' the natives there they will not take him to the Nan-Matal where he wish to go--no! So I take him.

We leave in a boat, wit' much instrument carefully tied up.
I leave him there wit' the boat an' the food.

He tell me to tell no one an' pay me not to.