Another young damsel about nine or ten years old comes out,
runs, halts, walks cat-like, lest the touch of her feet on the sand
should waken me from my reverie; another halt, holds her chest, lest the
spirit should take its flight or the pattering heart jump right out. I
fear it was beyond the slight patter then, and had reached the stentorian
thump of serious times. On; a rush; well done! She picks cloth and
beads up.
I have gained my point, and will soon have the crowds--no need to wait so
long to have the baits picked up now, and, after a few more such
temptings, it is done. I am besieged by the noisest crowd I have ever
met, and am truly glad to escape on board the boat. We went to the
vessel, and brought her round to the west side, where we anchored, and I
again landed. Crowds met me on the beach, but no men. I gave my beads
indiscriminately, and soon there was a quarrel between the old ladies and
young ones. The latter were ordered off, and, because they would not go,
I must go. The old ladies insisted on my getting into the boat, and,
being now assisted by the few men we met in the canoe, I thought it
better to comply.
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