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288 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1912
At least forty years of age, he looked no more than thirty. Yet beachcombers remembered his advent among the islands a score of years before. Unlike other white men in the tropics, he was there because he liked it. His protective skin pigmentation was excellent. He had been born to the sun. One he was in ten thousand in the matter of sun-resistance. The invisible and high-velocity light waves failed to bore into him. Other white men were pervious. The sun drove through their skins, ripping and smashing tissues and nerves, till they became sick in mind and body, tossed most of the Decalogue overboard, went to pieces, drank themselves into quick graves, or survived so savagely that war vessels were sometimes sent to curb their license.With this for starters, how can the rest be bad? This one is a quick read and a good example of its author's Darwinian proclivities.