He had played from his birth with the little Kanakas on his father's plantation, and had preferred their language and would learn no other.

The family removed to America a month after I arrived in the islands, and straightway the boy began to lose his Kanaka and pick up English.

By the time he was twelve he hadn't a word of Kanaka left; the language had wholly departed from his tongue and from his comprehension.

Nine years later, when he was twenty-one, I came upon the family in one of the lake towns of New York, and the mother told me about an adventure which her son had been having.
By trade he was now a professional diver.

A passenger boat had been caught in a storm on the lake, and had gone down, carrying her people with her.