He's a Port Adams chief, a filthy beggar.

We fined him ten times the value of the pigs, and made him move on with his mob.

Oh, they're a sweet lot, I must say, at least sixty of them, in five big canoes, and out for trouble.

They've got a dozen Sniders that ought to be confiscated." "Why didn't you ?" Joan asked.
"And have a row on my hands with the Commissioner?
He's terribly touchy about his black wards, as he calls them.

Well, we started them along their way, though they went in on the beach to _kai-kai_ several miles back.