them would "runnee wil'ee." They warned him against times when
without reason the demon would put many matches on the mat, and
after frightening out every one would in the end show that he had no
cards of merit.

Immediately after sunset, when the _popoi_ and fish had been eaten,
and all had bathed in the brook, when the women had perfumed their
bodies and put the scarlet hibiscus in their hair, and after Kivi
had drunk thrice of _kava_, the game began. The valley was deserted,
the _paepaes_ empty. No fires twinkled from the mountainsides. Only
in the cocoanut-grove the candlenuts were lit as the stars peeped
through the roof of the world.

A throng surrounded the pair of combatants. The worn cards had been
oiled and dried, and though the ominous faces of the _tiki_ upon
them shone bravely, doubtless they were weary of strife. The pipe was
made to smoke; Kivi puffed it and so did all who had joined in the
purchase of the case from the thieves of Cantonese. Then the cards
were dealt by Kivi, who had won the cut.

O Lalala and he eyed each other like Japanese wrestlers before the
grapple. Their eyes were slits as they put up the ante of five
packets each. O Lalala opened the pot for five packets and Kivi,
nudged by his backers, feverishly balanced them. He took three cards,
O Lalala but one. Standing behind the Tahitian, I saw that he had no
cards of value, but coolly he threw thirty packets upon the mat. The
others shuddered, for Kivi had drawn deuces to a pair of kings. They
made the pipe glow again. They puffed it; they spat; they put their
heads together, and he threw down his cards.