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"Wish the dear old captain would land and punch his head off!" said Sasa vindictively. "Whose head?" I asked. "Silver Tongue's," she returned. Sasa had always plagued me to get up a moonlight sailing party on the Nukanono, a little fifteen-ton schooner of mine that plied about the Group.
I came up softly under the bow of the Nukanono, dismissed Joe in a whisper, and climbed silently to my appointed station. I had not been there a minute when I felt Sasa's hand on my shoulder and heard her say softly in my ear, "Malie," which in Samoan means good or well done. Then she slipped away, and I heard her with sweet imperiousness ordering about the crew and bidding them slip the moorings.
It was a glorious moonlight night as I got into Joe's boat and saw the Nukanono across the bay, her loosened sails flapping in the first faint breath of the land breeze, and her booms sparkling from end to end with Chinese lanterns.
I confess, though, that on the day itself my curiosity began to reach the breaking point, when I was told, with gentle impressiveness, that I was to remain in my house till the minute of nine forty-five, pull off quietly to the Nukanono, board her by the fore chains, and crouch there in the bow till I was told to get up!
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