I was almost too afraid to sleep again. But they didn't come back,
though my feet are sorer than blazes."
"Last year you had them," she reminded him.
"Maybe it's going to become a seasonal affliction," he smiled.
"They're not serious, but they're horrible to wake up to. They
won't come again till to-night, if they come at all, but in the
meantime I feel as if I had been bastinadoed."
In the afternoon of the same day, Lee and Ida Barton made their
shallow dive from the Outrigger beach, and went on, at a steady
stroke, past the diving-stage to the big water beyond the Kanaka
Surf. So quiet was the sea that when, after a couple of hours,
they turned and lazily started shoreward through the Kanaka Surf
they had it all to themselves. The breakers were not large enough
to be exciting, and the last languid surf-boarders and canoeists
had gone in to shore. Suddenly, Lee turned over on his back.
"What is it?" Ida called from twenty feet away.
"My foot--cramp," he answered calmly, though the words were twisted
out through clenched jaws of control.
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