A white man's footprints he had smelled, and through the maze of all the other prints he followed the one print down through a breach of sea-wall to the sea- pounded coral sand lapped by the sea.

Here the latest freshness of many feet drew together where the nose of a boat had rested on the beach and where men had disembarked and embarked again.

He smelled up all the story, and, his forelegs in the water till it touched his shoulders, he gazed out across the lagoon where the disappearing trail was lost to his nose.
Had he been half an hour sooner he would have seen a boat, without oars, gasoline-propelled, shooting across the quiet water.

What he did see was an _Arangi_.

True, it was far larger than the _Arangi_ he had known, but it was white, it was long, it had masts, and it floated on the surface of the sea.