17th.—Rather cold during the night. Five natives who slept in the house with us kept a fire burning all night. A child sitting in front of the house has a taro in one hand, a bamboo pipe in the other; takes a bite of the taro, then a draw from the charged pipe, and the mixture seems to be thoroughly relished. Feeling sure we should get carriers here, we took no supplies with us, so are now eating the

best we can get, doing Banting to perfection. A number of men have been sitting all day about the house making spears, the jawbone and tusks of the wild boar being the only implements.

18th.—Thermometer at sunrise 70°. A number of ugly painted and feathered fellows came in this morning on their way to the village in the valley. The people here are much darker than the coast tribes, and their hair is woolly. Joe said on arriving here, “Hallo, these people same as mine, hair just the same.” They are scarcely so dark. A few are bright-coloured, but all have the woolly hair. A goodly number suffer from sores on feet and other parts of body. Their one want is a tomahawk. The people seem to live in families. We had a good supper of taro and cockatoo, the latter rather tough.

19th.—The carriers have not yet arrived. In the evening a woman shouted and yelled; all rushed to their spears, and there was great running, snorting, and blowing at some imaginary enemy. After the chief came in, we lay about the fire for some time; then to our blankets. I was beginning to nod, when some women in a neighbouring house began giggling and laughing. Our friend wakened up and began talking. I told him to sleep; he answered, Kuku mahuta, (Smoke, then sleep). He had his smoke, and then began reciting. I remember, as a youth, being told, when I could not sleep, to repeat a psalm or paraphrase, or count one hundred to myself, and

I should soon drop off. This fellow repeated aloud and he must have been going over the mythologic lore of his family for very many generations, and yet he did not sleep. At last, a smoke, beginning with a scream of kuku. Now, surely sleep; but no, he changed to a low monotonous chant, so grating on the sleepy man’s nervous system that it would have driven many desperate. At last, in the morning hours, the notes became indistinct, long pauses were observed, and, finally, I fell asleep.

The women carry exceedingly heavy loads up these steep hills. Yesterday one woman had two large kits of taro, and a child of about two years on the top of all. Ruatoka shot eight blue pigeons and one bird of paradise to-day: the latter must be eaten with the best of all sauces—hunger. The natives pick up heads, legs, and entrails, turn them on the fire and eat them.

20th.—Yesterday evening, about six, the carriers came in with great shouting, and glad was I to see my lad and companion Maka then. Great was the joy at the division of salt and tobacco. Before we came here the women and children slept in the bush at night, the men in the village. They are at enmity with the natives on the flat across the ravine, and it seems that sometimes they get a night visit, and may lose a man. For the last two nights the women have been in the village, but every sound heard causes a shout. Last night, when just getting off, they came rushing up to

our house, and calling on us to get up with our guns, as their enemies were coming. “Only fire off one, and it will frighten them away.” We told them to go and sleep, and not be afraid.

The state of fear of one another in which the savage lives is truly pitiful; to him every stranger seeks his life, and so does every other savage. The falling of a dry leaf at night, the tread of a pig, or the passage of a bird all rouse him, and he trembles with fear.

How they relish salt! The smallest grain is picked carefully up. Fortunately we have a good deal of that commodity. Never have I seen salt-eating like this; only children eating sugar corresponds to it.