“They do?”
“Yes, and quite strenuously. However, we’ll take our chances.” They left the hut and started in the direction of the plain.
The old Hawaiian saw them and knew what they were after. His daughter had told him of the plans and, like her, he objected to having them put to the use which the two strangers planned.
“They shall not do it!” he exclaimed, “they shall not take away the teeth of those brave men.” He followed Rothwell and Wilbur and appeared among them as they were filling their bags with teeth.
“Up higher,” he said, pointing to a smaller precipice, “was where the men of Maui fell. They were noted for their beautiful teeth. My daughter tells me that the haoles are making a collection of teeth. They must not fail to secure at least a few of these to take back home.”
Unsuspecting in the slightest the two men followed. They climbed the high precipice, their guide in advance. Wilbur followed with Rothwell close after them. As they neared the top the guide held on to a little bush which grew near by and suddenly kicked backwards. The force of the blow was sufficient to throw Wilbur off his balance, and he fell against Rothwell. Clutching vainly in the air, both men went tumbling down the precipice, and fell on the plain beneath, mangled beyond recognition.
The old Hawaiian gazed in silence at what had been two men, then he muttered softly, “The valley is safe.” He slowly climbed down the height and went back to his hut. Violetta met him at the door, a look of enquiry on her face.
The guide said nothing for a moment, then he repeated, “The valley is safe.”