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She was Queen of Huahoa." "Was it the chief stock that enabled her to out-endure the native men?" Paula asked. "Or did you help her?" "I rather think we helped each other toward the end," Graham replied. "We were both out of our heads for short spells and long spells. Sometimes it was one, sometimes the other, that was all in.
"And I'll bet she can out-dive him." "There you lose," Dick answered. "I saw the rock he dived from at Huahoa. That was after his time, and after the death of Queen Nomare. He was only a youngster twenty-two; he had to be to do it. It was off the peak of the Pau-wi Rock one hundred and twenty-eight feet by triangulation.
"I'll wager, for a man who drowned a whole kanaka crew, it was you who did the helping," Dick commented. "She must have been forever grateful," Paula challenged, her eyes directly on Graham's. "Don't tell me she wasn't young, wasn't beautiful, wasn't a golden brown young goddess." "Her mother was the Queen of Huahoa," Graham answered. "Her father was a Greek scholar and an English gentleman.
And he couldn't do it legitimately or technically with a swan-dive, because he had to clear two lower ledges while he was in the air. The upper ledge of the two, by their own traditions, was the highest the best of the kanakas had ever dared since their traditions began. Well, he did it. He became tradition. As long as the kanakas of Huahoa survive he will remain tradition Get ready, Rita.
"She was a resplendent, golden-brown, or tan-golden half-caste, a Polynesian queen whose mother had been a queen before her, whose father was an Oxford man, an English gentleman, and a real scholar. Her name was Nomare. She was Queen of Huahoa. She was barbaric. He was young enough to out-barbaric her. There was nothing sordid in their marriage. He was no penniless adventurer.
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