feet, after which he disarmed us. I tried to fight him off, to cry out, but I could do neither.
When I fully recovered I found myself back in the hut and staked to the floor, with Dan on one side of me and Oliver on the other. Lola and his spouse had disappeared, and night was once more coming on.
"Dan!" I called softly, but there was no reply. "Oliver!"
"Is that you speaking, Mark?"
"Yes. We are prisoners again."
"My throat seems to be on fire!" groaned Oliver. "Those Kanakas ought to be hung." And he gave a heavy cough.
"I feel awfully queer myself, Oliver. But I reckon Dan is worse off than any of us."
"He drank more than you or I, Mark. I hope he isn't—isn't" Oliver couldn't finish, but I understood him.
"No, he is still alive, for he is breathing heavily." I turned my head. "Dan! Dan! wake up!"
No answer came back, and it was fully an hour before Dan opened his eyes, to stare at us wildly. "Let go of me!" he yelled. "Let go, or I will fling the pearls overboard!"
"It's all right, Dan; you are safe," I said soothingly.
"It's not all right; let go, or I'll turn the boat
