“‘They t’ink witchcraft,’ says the Kanaka.  ’Want to know how make.’

“‘Lord!’ says George.  ’You tell ’em we’re witches from Witch Center.  Tell ’em we make them kind of things with our eyes shut, and if they eat us we’ll send our tintypes to ’aunt ’em into their graves.  Tell ’em that quick.’

“Well, I guess the Kanaka obeyed orders, for the islanders was all shook up.  They jabbered and hurrahed like a parrot-house for ten minutes or so.  Then they untied the feet of their Sunday dinners, got ’em into line, and marched ’em off across country, prodding ’em with their spears, either to see which was the tenderest or to make ’em step livelier, I don’t know which.

“Julius said that was the most nervous walk ever he took.  Said afore ’twas done he was so leaky with spear holes that he cast a shadder like a skimmer.  Just afore sunset they come to the other side of the island, where there was a good sized native village, with houses made of grass and cane, and a big temple-like in the middle, decorated fancy and cheerful with skulls and spareribs.  Jule said there was places where the decorations needed repairs, and he figgered he was just in time to finish ’em.  But he didn’t take no pride in it; none of his folks cared for art.

“The population was there to meet ’em, and even the children looked hungry.  Anybody could see that having company drop in for dinner was right to their taste.  There was a great chair arrangement in front of the temple, and on it was the fattest, ugliest, old liver-colored woman that Julius ever see.  She was rigged up regardless, with a tooth necklace and similar jewelry; and it turned out that she was the queen of the bunch.  Most of them island tribes have chiefs, but this district was strong for woman suffrage.

“Well, the visitors had made a hit, but Rosy’s photographs made a bigger one.  The queen and the head men of the village pawed over ’em and compared ’em with the originals and powwowed like a sewing circle.  Then they called up the Kanaka sailor, and he preached witchcraft and hoodoos to beat the cars, lying as only a feller that knows the plates are warming for him on the back of the stove can lie.  Finally the queen wanted to know if the ‘long pigs’ could make a witch picture of her.

“’Tell ‘er yes,’ yells George, when the question was translated to him.  ’Tell ’er we’re picture-makers by special app’intment to the Queen and the Prince of Wales.  Tell ’er we’ll make ’er look like the sweetest old chocolate drop in the taffy-shop.  Only be sure and say we must ’ave a day or so to work the spells and put on the kibosh.’

“So ’twas settled, and dinner was put off for that night, anyhow.  And the next day being sunny, Rosy took the queen’s picture.  ’Twas an awful strain on the camera, but it stood it fine; and the photographs he printed up that afternoon was the most horrible collection of mince-pie dreams that ever a sane man run afoul of.  Rosy used one of the grass huts for a dark room; and while he was developing them plates, they could hear him screaming from sheer fright at being shut up alone with ’em in the dark.