The landing area was marked off by buoys, and the numerous boats and canoes on the lagoon were safely clear. Dulac touched down within twenty yards of the runway's beginning, let the amphibian come to a near halt, and manipulated his throttles to bring the machine about. This brought the right cockpit seat, occupied by Bob and the Hunter, toward the shore, and both examined the island eagerly for changes; they had not been there for two years. Even from here, however, the trees kept them from seeing much. The long northwest leg of the island was still heavily jungled. Boats could be examined more easily: Most of the ones occupied by juveniles were now being paddled, towed, or sailed toward the long dock, though their owners were careful to keep out of the, airplane's way. The island population was of a mixed descent that was largely Polynesian, and the adults were casual about allowing children of all ages on and in the water, but took a very dim view of their offspring's violating the more common-sense safety rules of swimming and boat-handling. Few of the youngsters would have risked being kept ashore for a week or so, since they got no sympathy from their friends.

They even left tie-up room at the float, a twenty-yard-square structure two hundred yards from shore connected by a slanting gangway to the main dock. The raft itself was crowded with youngsters by the time the amphibian nosed into the notch provided for it, but they kept well back from the propellers as Dulac cut his mixtures and let the blades whirl to a stop. Bob and the Hunter knew most of the faces in the crowd, but were attracted to a lanky, six-foot-plus blond youth who approached with a line in his hands and began the job of mooring the aircraft It was Kenneth Malmstrom, one of the quintet who had shared unknowingly in the Hunter's police problem seven years before.