with flowers and phosphorescent fungus, their necks hung with the
pink peppers of Chile, squatted in a close ring about the players.

The lame man took up the pack, shuffled it, and handed it to Kivi to
cut. Then Kivi solemnly stacked before him the eighty-five packets
of matches, all that remained in the islands. Five packs went upon
the mat for ante, and Kivi very slowly picked up his cards.

He surveyed them, and a grim smile of incredulity and delight spread
over his ink-decorated countenance. He opened for ten packets. O
Lalala quickly put down as many, and thirty more.

Kivi chuckled as one who has his enemy in his hand, but stifles his
feelings to hide his triumph. He then carefully counted his
remaining wealth, and with a gesture of invitation slid the entire
seventy packets about his knees. They were a great bulk, quite 840
boxes of matches, and they almost obscured the curving palms of blue
tattooed on his mighty thighs.

Again he chuckled and this time put his knuckles over his mouth.
"Patty!" said Great Fern for him, and made a gesture disdaining more
cards.

O Lalala scrutinized his face as the sailor the heavens in a storm,
and then studied the visages of all his backers. He closed his eyes
a moment. Then, "My cally!" he said, as he pushed a great heap of
_toendstikkers_ onto the cane mat. The _kava_-drinkers grew black
with excitement.

Kivi hesitated, and then, amid the most frightful curses of his