Secret Cave of Kamanawa. Helen Lamar Berkey

      CHAPTER 1

       THE CAT-WOMAN

      "Boy" McFarlane stood on the open lanai and observed the beach and the sky. Clouds bulging with rain hung low over the sea. The rain fell softly but steadily, dimpling the surface of the water, running in tiny rivulets down the long, sharp leaves of the pandanus, and bruising and crumpling the red and pink hibiscus blossoms that grew on the hedges bordering the lawn.

      Boy had gotten his nickname from a Japanese maid who couldn't pronounce his real name, Llewelyn.

      "What a day!" observed Boy disgustedly. "What a day! It looks as though it will rain forever."

      The tide was out and the reef lay exposed beneath a thin covering of water, but Boy was not tempted to hunt for coral in the little pools among the rocks, not today in the rain! He eyed the skiff, Hula Girl, rocking unconcernedly with the motion of the water. But he didn't want to fish in a wet boat, either.

      Boy looked clown Kamanawa Beach for some sign of life. The brown soggy sand was deserted. There was not even a beach boy, or a meandering fisherman with his casting nets to be seen. Then a stray cat, with his tail high, scampered lightly across the lawn looking for shelter, flicking the drops of water from his feet as he ran. Boy's face brightened; why hadn't he thought of it before? This was a perfect day to visit the Cat-Woman.

      He called out to Lovely, the maid, who was doing a spectacular cleaning job in the kitchen.

      "I'm going over to the Cat-Woman's, Lovely," he cried, "and please call The Mutt. I don't want him to follow me."

      The Mutt, who had escaped the turmoil of Lovely's cleaning of the lanai, barked and wagged his tail when he heard Boy's voice, He had been patiently anticipating a walk in the rain.

      "No, no!" said Boy patting the big shaggy dog. "You cannot go. You have to stay home. The Cat-Woman will not allow a dog near her place."

      Lovely, drying her hands on her apron, appeared in the kitchen doorway.

      "The Cat-Woman!" she said derisively. "Why do you want to see her? Anyone who would live with all those cats must be slightly touched,"

      "I like her," said Boy. "She's fun. She can tell the most interesting stories."

      "Well, then, be back for lunch," advised Lovely, sourly returning to her cleaning.

      The Mutt followed Boy to the door, but Boy opened it just wide enough for himself to squeeze through, leaving The Mutt behind to cry in disappointment.

      "Never mind," he heard Lovely speak to the dog. "The Cat-Woman hates dogs because they chase her cats. You stay home with me."

      The homes along the edge of Kamanawa Beach were set back from the highway in damp, lush grounds amid tall old coco palms, giant bread-fruits, and mango trees. On this rainy morning there were no yardmen clipping hedges and grass; no barefooted children peddling tricycles up and down driveways; no maids wheeling baby carriages under the palms. The rain was like a gauzy curtain obscuring the big houses from sight, muting all sounds.

      The last house on Kamanawa Beach belonged to the Cat-Woman, and it was the largest house of all—gray, weatherbeaten, and shabby. All around it were Norfolk pines that had been cut back to thicken and form an impenetrable barrier between the house and the curious or venture-some, and to prevent the intrusion of strange dogs.

      A tall wooden gate placed between the hedges bore the legend, "Kamanawa Place," in tarnished brass letters. Boy lifted the latch and immediately a bell jangled. This was to warn the Cat-Woman she had a visitor.

      With rusty hinges creaking, the wooden gate swung open and Boy stepped inside the enclosure and followed the wet flagstones across the untidy yard. Under the shelter of an ancient hibiscus bush he saw the first of the Cat-Woman's pets, two tiger-cats

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