Then we came to the
top of the right leg of "U," where there might be an island on
Craney's chart, except that it looked more like part of the letter.
Craney says:
"Try 'A.'"
We cut across into "A." It was in the curve of the twist at the end
of the "A" that we sighted land at last. The ship's chart had an
island in the neighbourhood, but somewhat to the north. Likely
Craney's notion of coasting the edge of the letters was as good as
any. I never claimed the ship's chart was a good one, for it wasn't.
I only told him I'd rather sail by the advertisements in a newspaper
than by his.
There was a reef at the north end of the island, and we ran south
down the coast some miles to where it fell away to the southwest, and
dropped anchor at night in a bay with a white beach and a long row of
huts back from it under the trees. A bunch of natives ran down and
stood looking at us. Some of them swam out a little, or paddled on a
log, and then went back. There was a splashing and calling all night,
and fires shining on the beach. Kamelillo thought he'd been there
before, but he didn't remember when; but if he had, it stuck in his
mind, there was some trouble connected with it, and with one he
called a "bad-lot chief"; but I told Craney that Kamelillo had seen
too many islands and too much strong drink in his career, and he
might be thinking of something that happened in New Zealand.
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