Short Stories
known. He did not disclose himself, but spoke from the thicket.
"What do you want?" he demanded.
"We want Koolau, the leper," answered the man who led the
native police, himself a blue-eyed American.
"You must go back," Koolau said.
He knew the man, a deputy sheriff, for it was by him that he
had been harried out of Niihau, across Kauai, to Kalalau Valley,
and out of the valley to the gorge.
"Who are you?" the sheriff asked.
"I am Koolau, the leper," was the reply.
"Then come out. We want you. Dead or alive, there is a thou-
sand dollars on your head. You cannot escape."
Koolau laughed aloud in the thicket.
"Come out!" the sheriff commanded, and was answered by
silence.
He conferred with the police, and Koolau saw that they were
preparing to rush him.
"Koolau," the sheriff called. "Koolau, I am coming across to
get you."
"Then look first and well about you at the sun and sea and
sky, for it will be the last time you behold them."
"That's all right, Koolau," the sheriff said soothingly. "I know
you're a dead shot. But you won't shoot me. I have never done
you any wrong."
Koolau grunted in the thicket.
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