Fahua knew the people of his village were just as angry as the strange men, but everything had happened so fast. No one could explain how it all happened. Fahua,who had been so busy making his new friend feel welcome, had seen nothing. He asked and asked, but each persongave a different story. All he knew for sure was that his friend was gone. Fahua reached up and wiped away a tear as he thought about the whole thing.

A few days ago, a peskadot (fisherman) had run to the chief claiming that there were giant trees growing on the edge of the ocean. The trees had huge white billowing leaves like clouds instead of green leaves like the trees on their island. He said he sailed out as far as he dared go alone to see what they were. He waited for a long time until the sun began to go down. The trees were slowly getting closer. The chief said the man must be kaduku (crazy). Maybe he had been in the sun too long and was seeing things. But the peskadot stood talland said he had seen trees standing high up in the water.

The next morning as the sun began to brighten the sky, the peskadot was on the beach. At mid morning, he began to scream, There! There! I told you! Everyone ran to join him. On the far horizon, tall trees with enormous white billowing leaves were beginning to show. The chief patted the peskadot's shoulder and apologized for doubting him. Then he sent his strongest paddlers and his bravest warriors to see what those trees were. The villagers waited nervously for them to return.

When the canoes came back, the warrior in charge went directly to the chief without speaking to anyone else. The others could tell by the way he walked something important had happened and followed him closely. He sat down in front of the chief and waited until the rest of the villagers were settled.

They are not trees. He looked at the peskadot and nodded. But they look like them. Under the tall stems you saw there are canoes. Very big canoes, many times bigger than ours. The white leaves catch the wind and push the canoes along. Those canoes are filled with men who are sick from thirst and hunger. They talk differently than us. We don't know what they are saying, but it is easy to see they are starving. He looked at the chief and said, I think they want us to bring them here. They need our help.

The chief looked at his other advisers. Most were nodding their heads in agreement. They wanted to help. One or two shook their heads no but they were the ones who were always afraid when something new happened. The chief looked back at the warrior. He nodded his head as if he had made a decision and said, Bring them. We will do what we can and help them on their way.

At daybreak, the warriors went back out to the big canoes and guided them through the reef. Fahua was with them. He saw one boy about his own age lean over the side of the tall canoe to see what was happening. The boy was so weak from hunger that he swayed against the edge of the big canoe and suddenly fell into the water. Fahua jumped in and pulled the boy to the safety of his own canoe. Then he quickly climbed back in. The boy's eyes fluttered open and he smiled. He raised his hand and took Fahua's. He gave it a weak squeeze, said something in his funny language and then fell asleep.

Fahua helped carry the boy to his hut. His mother made breadfruit and coconut milk to feed the sick boy. The next morning Fahua was surprised to see the visitor sitting up and looking around. He looked confused and a bit frightened. Fahua walked over and squatted down in front of him.

Are you hungry? he asked. The boy's dark eyebrows drewtogether. He didn't understand. Fahua sat back and rubbed his stomach. Then he pretended to eat something. He raised his own eyebrows and pointed to the boy. The boy smiled widely and nodded his head. He was very hungry. Fahua brought him food and sat back to wait until the boy had eaten his fill.

When he finished, the boy also sat back and rubbed his bulging belly. He looked at Fahua and smiled. What's your name? He asked in his funny language. Now it was Fahua's turn not to understand. He let his eyebrows move close together and tipped his head to one side.

The boy leaned a bit closer to Fahua and, tapping himself on the chest, he said, Doe-men-go. Doe-men-go"

Fahua understood Doe-men-go must be his name. He tapped himself and said, Fahua.

The boy smiled, Fah oo ah. From that moment on, the two youngmen were friends. As soon as he felt strong enough, Fahua took Domingo into the jungle and showed him his special places. They saw fruit bats hanging upside down sleeping in the trees. They watched fish swim around in the tide pool. He showed Domingo his talaya (fishing net) and taught him how to throw it. For two days, they roamed around, sharing Fahua's world. They laughed at each other and tried to understand each other. 

Late on the evening of the third night, Domingo and Fahua sat by the edge of the ocean, listening to the waves and watching the sun disappear. Domingo turned to Fahua and said many strange sounds. Fahua looked at Doe-men-go and wondered what he was talking about. Then suddenly Domingo stood up and put his right arm out. When Fahua stood up as well, Domingo grabbed the inside of Fahua's right arm just below the elbow. He put Fahua's hand on his own arm and grasped it tightly. Friends, he said. He pointed to himself and then to Fahua. Friends.

Fahua wasn't sure what he meant, but he liked the happiness in Doe-men-go's voice. Then Domingo dropped his arm and headed for the hut to go to bed. Both boys went in and laid down on their own mats, thinking about all that had happened the past three days and how happy they were to have met each other. Slowly they drifted off the sleep.

They hadn't been asleep long when cries from outside awakened them both. They looked at each other in confusion. Then each jumped up and ran from the hut. Outside it seemed like the whole island was fighting. Men were running everywhere. Women and children were crying. Seven village men lay on the ground as still as death. Their families were nearby weeping over them. Fahua looked a Doe-men-go. His friend was staring at the sight. His mouth hung wide open, like a fish trying to breath out of water.

Out of the darkness behind them, one of the visitors ran by. Screaming at the top of his lungs, he grabbed Domingo by the neck, dragging him toward the beach. Poor Domingo half ran and half fell behind the man. He couldn't get his balance while the man kept dragging him. As Fahua watched, all of the visitors jumped into the canoes and began paddling furiously away from the beach. The screaming warriors threw rocks and sticks at the fleeing men.

From one of the canoes full of the visitors, Fahua saw his friend standing up, looking back at the beach. He raised his right hand in silent salute to his friend as darkness slowly closed around the canoe. That was the last time Fahua saw him.

Now it was the next morning, his new friend was leaving forever. Seven of Fahua's people were dead. The whole village was in mourning as they prepared the dead for burial. But the worst part to Fahua was that everyone had a different story about what happened. But no one was really certain. No one. And no one would ever be able to tell him why he had lost his friend so suddenly on that sad dark evening.