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Updated: May 9, 2025
And, as every one who ever met her knows, Polynesia's memory is the most marvelous memory in the world. If there is any happening I am not quite sure of, she is always able to put me right, to tell me exactly how it took place, who was there and everything about it. In fact sometimes I almost think I ought to say that this book was written by Polynesia instead of me. Very well then, I will begin.
So, feeling a little bit discouraged by our first reception, we moved off towards the mountains in the centre of the island. WE found the woods at the feet of the hills thick and tangly and somewhat hard to get through. On Polynesia's advice, we kept away from all paths and trails, feeling it best to avoid meeting any Indians for the present.
We get under way. Polynesia's busiest corner. Our ship's company. A patriotic celebration rudely interrupted. In the grip of the elements. Necessary repairs. A night vigil. Land ho! "Is she tight?" asked Captain Ezra Triplett. "As tight as a corset," was my reply. "Good. I'll go." In this short interview I obtained my captain for what was to prove the most momentous voyage of my life.
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