Cat , Crab or Cabbage —

in a Name?

T HE question is—how far can one believe the printed word; Residents within the Pacific area sometimes go so far as not to believe it at all. And, in this connection there is the case of Lucille Beckhart, who writes for the American magazine Coronet, and that of Mr. Leopold G. Blackman, who has written to the PIM. If we are to believe Lucille, are we also to believe Mr Blackman? And vice versa?

We leave it to you. Here is what Lucille says {in Coronet) :

DOWN in the South Pacific near Tahiti is an island paradise you may have for the asking. Soft waves lap against its coral shores and tall palm trees bow a graceful welcome in the tropical breeze. There is fresh water in deep springs and lush fruit hangs from leafy tropical trees.

But before you hasten to apply for ownership of Cat Island, heed this warn ing: a military invasion would be required to drive out its inhabitants. For Cat Island belongs to cats—hundreds of mean, lean, ferocious felines that have so far proved mere than a match for any human foe.

This strange Pacific kingdom dates back a hundred years to a day when rats, es caping a ship wrecked on the reefs, swam to the island. At first, natives ignored the uninvited guests, so the rats multi plied rapidly.

Soon they literally challenged the human population to battle; and although the natives tried various extermination methods, the rats won. Forlornly the vanquished residents packed up and left.

French colonial officials in Tahiti sent several expeditions to clean out the rat nests honeycombing the island, but neither poison nor traps nor smoke were effective. In desperation, the authorities finally offered the island—as a gift—to anyone who could defeat the rodent enemy.

An enterprising Frenchman visiting in Tahiti made a study of the problem and came up with a practical solution —cats.

Promptly he rounded up 500 alley felines, loaded them on a ship and set off for the little island. He turned the animals loose on the beach, then calmly sailed back to Tahiti and sat down to await de velopments.

SOME weeks later, when the Frenchman returned to inspect his promised island, the cats were sleek and fat and happy; the rats, those that still re mained. were in hiding. The pleased officials in Tahiti kept their promise and deeded the island to its deliverer.

Now sole owner of a South Sea paradise, the Frenchman started a copra plantation and poultry farm. For a while all went well: the cats worked hard, and business prospered. But while the rats disap peared, the cat population kept growing.

Soon, the hungry felines began to attack poultry.

The distraught Frenchman tried all the tricks that had been formerly used to rout the rats, but nothing worked against the new usurpers. In desperation, the disillusioned owner packed his bags and said good-bye to Cat Island.

The kingdom of cats now started to thrive in earnest. Soon the feline popu lation became fierce and wild, living in burrows and eating crabs and fish. Even giant sea turtles coming ashore fell prey to the vicious creatures.

To-day, the South Pacific natives fear Cat Island, for any human trespasser would be ripped to bits by claws and teeth. Occasionally, sight-seers row their boats close to Cat Island. But they turn and bend their oars quickly when they see the mass of snarling, spitting cats crouching at the water’s edge, ready and able to defend their savage domain.

J\/JR- BLACKMAN now brings up his heavy artillery and gets down to business, thus : THE accompanying article which ap peared in the American magazine Coronet, in July, occasioned no little stir in Papeete. Immediately, Captain Charles E. Williams, of the 147 ton schooner yacht, Seaward, then rendez vouing in Tahiti waters on a pleasure trip, inviting Messrs. Alexander Taran, Oscar G. Nordman, and William Penning ton to accompany him, set sail to inves tigate the story regarding Cat Island.

Arriving there in the early morning the voyagers proceeded by long boat to recon noitre. When they entered the lagoon through the pass, their ears were assailed by an unaccountable, loud clicking sound as of the clashing of machinery. As they rowed forward cautiously, the whole sur face of the island appeared to be in move ment, as though covered by gray masses of rapidly moving soldiers brandishing menacing weapons above their heads.

Closer inspection revealed the island to be in possession of an army of land crabs, of an unbelievable size and ferocitv. who were preparing to attack the invaders of their island.

The waving weapons they bore aloft were now seen to be enormous claws, the snapping of whose vice-like jaws had oc

casioned the uproar already mentioned and which still continued to deafen the ears of the visitors.

After struggling ashore through hordes of infuriated crustaceans, from whom all of the visitors received severe flesh wounds, a deplorable scene of desolation was witnessed. Through the ravages of the crabs all other animals on the island had been devoured, leaving the shore literally carpeted with cat bones.

Only too glad to leave such an inhos pitable shore, the members of the expe dition returned to Papeete.

THERE the matter was taken up by a meeting of the legislature, convened for the purpose. An impassioned appeal for help to exterminate the crabs of Cat Island was delivered by Mr.

Nordman, who declared that the un fortunate island was experiencing the same misfortune that had befallen Paris during the memorable siege of 1870, when its inhabitants had been put to the ex tremity of eating rats in consequence of the latter having been able to breed un molestedly by reason of the fact that the citizens of Paris had eaten all the cats the previous year.

After a long session, the legislature de cided not to dispatch a military expe dition to exterminate the land crabs as yet, but to try the expedient of sending there several shiploads of hogs from Eipoa. This latter island, having in former years been populated solely by donkeys and hogs, and the latter animals having turned carnivorous, the donkeys had disappeared. It was therefore pre dicted that the hogs would mop up the land-crabs of Cat Island.

The question was then debated as to what should be done with the island when hogs were in possession. After a heated debate it was decided that the island should then be renamed Hog Island. It was also decided that when the hogs had successfully established themselves there, Chinese pickling cabbage, known to be poisonous to hogs, should be planted on the island and the latter placed on Ad miralty charts under the more romantic designation, Cabbage Island.