One by one they disappeared into the runway tunnel, and when the last was ashore he ordered the boat back to the ship.
"Nothing doing here this trip," he told the mate.

"We'll up hook and out in the morning." The quick tropic twilight swiftly blent day and darkness.

Overhead all stars were out.

No faintest breath of air moved over the water, and the humid heat beaded the faces and bodies of both men with profuse sweat.
They ate their deck-spread supper languidly and ever and anon used their forearms to wipe the stinging sweat from their eyes.
"Why a man should come to the Solomons--beastly hole," the mate complained.
"Or stay on," the captain rejoined.
"I'm too rotten with fever," the mate grumbled.

"I'd die if I left.
Remember, I tried it two years ago.