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Traprock, if you please, would you mind facin' a-stern." I motioned to Kippy to obey, which she would have done anyway. "An' now," said the Captain, "kindly face forrard." Same business. The flower slowly turned on Kippy's head! Stretching forth a trembling hand, Triplett plucked the blossom from Kippy's hair!
Here we see the ship's company of the yawl Kawa, assembled under the shade of the broad panjandrus leaves which fringe the Filbert Islands. They are, reading from left to right, William Henry Thomas, the crew; Herman Swank, Walter E. Traprock, Reginald Whinney.
I looked forward eagerly to getting up-stairs, so to speak, and taking a sound nap. One thing only deterred me; I was thirsty. This striking likeness of Dr. Traprock, the author of the present volume, admirably expresses the intensity, alertness and intrepidity which have carried this remarkable personage through so many harrowing experiences. A certain bold defiance, which is one of Dr.
The men's faces were calm, almost benign, and as far as I could see unarmed except for long, sharply pointed bundles of leaves which they carried under their arms. Their tattooing was the finest I have ever seen. At this moment, however, my observations were concluded by Triplett's suddenly wheeling and saying sharply, "Traprock! ... target practice!"
Our first-class cabin passengers were three, Reginald K. Whinney, scientific man, world wanderer, data-demon and a devil when roused; Herman Swank, bohemian, artist, and vagabond, forever in search of new sensations, and myself, Walter E. Traprock, of Derby, Connecticut, editor, war correspondent, and author, jack-of-all-trades, mostly literary and none lucrative. Our object?
Traprock knows no fear is evidenced by the fact that he has not only explored every quarter of the globe, but that he has also written a number of books of travel, plays, musical comedies and one cook-book.
The background of this picture shows the densely matted bush of the Filbert Islands in their interior portion, a jungle growth which might well baffle any but the most skillful threader of the trackless wilds. The gun carried by Dr. Traprock is a museum-piece, having been presented to the author's great-grandfather by Israel Putnam immediately after the Battle of Fort Ticonderoga.
The principal hill consisted of traprock, and was so naked that only one or two trees of the Sterculia heterophylla grew upon it. The native name for it was Pakormungor, and from its top I recognised Mounts Juson and Laidley, and near me various low features which I had intersected from those stations.
We spent the entire day together, I in an agony of soul which I could not quite conceal and which my beloved tried to dispel by the tenderest tributes of her consuming love. I cannot speak more of what lies too deeply in my heart. It was by the rarest good fortune that Dr. Traprock was able to secure what is probably the only living specimen now in captivity of the hitherto unknown fatu-liva bird.
Traprock, of whom I can even now write only with deep emotion, was an exquisite creature, constructed in accordance with the best South Sea specifications in every particular. Swank and Whinney were equally fortunate. We would not have traded wives for ten tons of copra though Moolitonu, who was my best man, explained that this was perfectly possible in case we were not satisfied.
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