Where I saw the glowing promise of color rather than color itself, Swank saw red. Where I felt the hushed presence of dawn "like a pilgrim clad," Swank vibrated to the harmonies of pure pigment, the full brass of a tonal orchestra. Of a sudden his color hypnotism transported him. "Eee--yow!" he howled, brandishing a handful of Naples yellow mixed with coral which he hurled at the canvas. "Zow! Bam! Ooh, la la!" His shrieks roused his escorts and brought a rapidly swelling crowd to the dune, where, to the sound of his own ravings and the plaudits of the spectators, he finished his masterpiece. Late afternoon of the same day was the hour agreed upon for the Judgment. Baahaabaa had sent invitations by express swimmers to all the near-by islands. He invited the entire archipelago. The picture of their approach was interesting. Kippy haled me to the top of a tall tree whence we watched the convergent argosies, hundreds of tiny specks each bearing an outspread _taa-taa_ of gleaming leaves. It was as if Birnam Wood had gone yachting. "Tapa nui ekilana lohoo-a" chanted my mate. Following her outstretched hand I discerned a group of _taa-taas,_ arranged in wedge formation, the enclosing sides being formed by swimmers carrying a web of woven _haro_, in the center of which reposed a visiting chief with three or four of his wives. [Illustration: The Lagoon at Dawn (Swank's Version)] [Illustration Note: THE LAGOON AT DAWN (Swank's Version) An interesting example of the way in which the mind of a painter works will be found in this reproduction of the masterpiece created by Herman Swank in competition with the photograph of the same title. Both camera and painter were to reproduce the same subject, yet how differently they reacted to it. In the beauty of nature about him it is evident that the great artist felt only the dominant feature of island life, the glorious, untrammeled womanhood of the South Seas. The wild abandon, the primitive gesture of modesty, the eyes of adoration--symbolically expressed as detached entities floating about the loved one--all are present in this remarkable picture. Thus expressed, too, we may find the ever-present ocean, the waving palms and, if we seek carefully, the Kawa herself, scudding before the trade wind. Truly may this be called, as the artist prefers, the Venus of Polynesia.] By four o'clock the beach was thronged with thousands of gleaming bodies. Festivity and rejoicing were in every eye. Shouts of welcome, bursts of laughter, and the resounding slap of friendly hand on visiting hip or shoulder, the dignified welcome of the chiefs, cries of children, dances and games, myriad details of social amity--all presented a picture of unspoiled Polynesia such as is found in the Filberts alone. When I forget it, may I be forgot. Of course Swank, Whinney and I were objects of much curiosity--and admiration. Hundreds of times my radiant Daughter of Pearl and Coral repeated: