As they drew nearer the harbor they saw large numbers of war canoes filled with natives, all dressed in gala attire, paddling out through the break in the reef, confirming Tuamana’s information.
“That’s a lucky stroke,” Phil exclaimed. “Probably the count and Klinger will both be at the Vaileli plantation, and if so, there’ll be no trouble carrying out the admiral’s plan. I’m going to find out for sure,” he added as an extra large canoe holding nearly forty men and women passed them, its crew shouting and singing in high glee.
“Run up close,” Phil said quietly to O’Neil. Then to Tuamana, “Say nothing of our plans,” he cautioned, “only find out what’s actually going to happen.”
The canoe paddlers stopped their efforts and waited. Twoscore eager smiling faces were turned upon the Americans, and from all the musical greeting of “Talofa, Alii” was given.
Tuamana rose and with solemn dignity spoke to the people in the canoe. He was answered by an elderly warrior sitting in the stern of the canoe. Both Tuamana and the Kataafa warrior addressed maintained a haughty but dignified bearing toward each other.
Finally Tuamana nodded, and the old patriarch gave a command. The song again broke forth, and in perfect time the paddles were dipped and the canoe shot on her way.
“All Ukula go Vaileli, to-night,” Tuamana said, after the launch had again been headed for the harbor. “Big ‘Talola’ and ‘Siva’ to Missi Klinger.”
“Fine business!” O’Neil exclaimed. “They’ll come back in the morning to find a new king at Kulinuu.”
“Kataafa go too,” the chief added.
Phil could hardly suppress his joy. Things were certainly coming their way.