She breathed a prayer to her shark god， slipped over theside， and began to swim. She was actually refreshed bythe water， and quickly left the canoe astern. At the end ofan hour the land was perceptibly nearer. Then came herfright. Right before her eyes， not twenty feet away， a largefin cut the water. She swam steadily toward it， and slowlyit glided away， curving off toward the right and circlingaround her. She kept her eyes on the fin and swam on.
When the fin disappeared， she lay face downward in thewater and watched. When the fin reappeared she resumedher swimming. The monster was lazy—she could see that.
Without doubt he had been well fed since the hurricane.
Had he been very hungry， she knew he would not havehesitated from making a dash for her. He was fifteen feetlong， and one bite， she knew， could cut her in half.
But she did not have any time to waste on him. Whethershe swam or not， the current drew away from the landjust the same. A half hour went by， and the shark beganto grow bolder. Seeing no harm in her he drew closer， innarrowing circles， cocking his eyes at her impudently as heslid past. Sooner or later， she knew well enough， he wouldget up sufficient courage to dash at her. She resolved toplay first. It was a desperate act she meditated. She wasan old woman， alone in the sea and weak from starvationand hardship； and yet she， in the face of this sea tiger，must anticipate his dash by herself dashing at him. Sheswam on， waiting her chance. At last he passed languidlyby， barely eight feet away. She rushed at him suddenly，feigning that she was attacking him. He gave a wild flirtof his tail as he fled away， and his sandpaper hide， strikingher， took off her skin from elbow to shoulder. He swamrapidly， in a widening circle， and at last disappeared.
In the hole in the sand， covered over by fragments ofmetal roofing， Mapuhi and Tefara lay disputing.
“If you had done as I said，” charged Tefara， for thethousandth time， “and hidden the pearl and told no one，you would have it now.”
“But Huru-Huru was with me when I opened the shell—have I not told you so times and times and times withoutend？”
“And now we shall have no house. Raoul told me todaythat if you had not sold the pearl to Toriki—”
“I did not sell it. Toriki robbed me.”
“—that if you had not sold the pearl， he would give youfive thousand French dollars， which is ten thousand Chili.”
“He has been talking to his mother，” Mapuhi explained.
“She has an eye for a pearl.”
“And now the pearl is lost，” Tefara complained.
“It paid my debt with Toriki. That is twelve hundred Ihave made， anyway.”
“Toriki is dead，” she cried. “They have heard no wordof his schooner. She was lost along with the Aorai andthe Hira. Will Toriki pay you the three hundred credit hepromised？ No， because Toriki is dead. And had you foundno pearl， would you today owe Toriki the twelve hundred？
No， because Toriki is dead， and you cannot pay dead men.”
“But Levy did not pay Toriki，” Mapuhi said. “He gavehim a piece of paper that was good for the money inPapeete； and now Levy is dead and cannot pay； and Torikiis dead and the paper lost with him， and the pearl is lostwith Levy. You are right， Tefara. I have lost the pearl， andgot nothing for it. Now let us sleep.”
He held up his hand suddenly and listened. From withoutcame a noise， as of one who breathed heavily and withpain. A hand fumbled against the mat that served for adoor.
“Who is there？” Mapuhi cried.
“Nauri，” came the answer. “Can you tell me where is myson， Mapuhi？”
Tefara screamed and gripped her husband’s arm.
“A ghost！” she chattered. “A ghost！”
Mapuhi’s face was a ghastly yellow. He clung weakly tohis wife.
“Good woman，” he said in faltering tones， striving todisguise his vice， “I know your son well. He is living on theeast side of the lagoon.”
From without came the sound of a sigh. Mapuhi beganto feel elated. He had fooled the ghost.
“But where do you come from， old woman？” he asked.
“From the sea，” was the dejected answer.
“I knew it！ I knew it！” screamed Tefara， rocking to andfro.
“Since when has Tefara bedded in a strange house？”
came Nauri’s voice through the matting.
Mapuhi looked fear and reproach at his wife. It was hervoice that had betrayed them.
“And since when has Mapuhi， my son， denied his oldmother？” the voice went on.
“No， no， I have not—Mapuhi has not denied you，” hecried. “I am not Mapuhi. He is on the east end of thelagoon， I tell you.”
Ngakura sat up in bed and began to cry. The mattingstarted to shake.
“What are you doing？” Mapuhi demanded.
“I am coming in，” said the voice of Nauri.
One end of the matting lifted. Tefara tried to dive underthe blankets， but Mapuhi held on to her. He had to holdon to something. Together， struggling with each other，with shivering bodies and chattering teeth， they gazedwith protruding eyes at the lifting mat. They saw Nauri，dripping with sea water， without her ahu， creep in. Theyrolled over backward from her and fought for Ngakura’sblanket with which to cover their heads.
“You might give your old mother a drink of water，” theghost said plaintively.
“Give her a drink of water，” Tefara commanded in ashaking voice.
“Give her a drink of water，” Mapuhi passed on thecommand to Ngakura.
And together they kicked out Ngakura from under theblanket. A minute later， peeping， Mapuhi saw the ghostdrinking. When it reached out a shaking hand and laid iton his， he felt the weight of it and was convinced that itwas no ghost. Then he emerged， dragging Tefara after him，and in a few minutes all were listening to Nauri’s tale. Andwhen she told of Levy， and dropped the pearl into Tefara’shand， even she was reconciled to the reality of her motherin-law.
“In the morning，” said Tefara， “you will sell the pearl toRaoul for five thousand French.”
“The house？” objected Nauri.
“He will build the house，” Tefara answered. “He waysit will cost four thousand French. Also will he give onethousand French in credit， which is two thousand Chili.”
“And it will be six fathoms long？” Nauri queried.
“Ay，” answered Mapuhi， “six fathoms.”
“And in the middle room will be the octagon-dropclock？”
“Ay， and the round table as well.”
“Then give me something to eat， for I am hungry，” saidNauri， complacently. “And after that we will sleep， for Iam weary. And tomorrow we will have more talk about thehouse before we sell the pearl. It will be better if we takethe thousand French in cash. Money is ever better thancredit in buying goods from the traders.”