4th.—We left Kenakagara this morning, accompanied by natives. Our friends soon left us, and we lost our way, and after some hours’ travelling found ourselves in a thick bush and surrounded by precipices. It has been up hill and down dale with a vengeance, trying hard to get to the south-west. At last, wet through and thoroughly tired, we camped to have breakfast, dinner, and supper in one. We were ten hours on the tramp, and carrying our bags, so feel ready for a night’s rest.
5th.—We see where we are; but how to get out is the problem to be solved. Ruatoka has gone to look for a track. We had a fine night, a roaring fire at our feet, and so enjoyed sleep. Camping this way is preferable to living in native huts, far more comfortable and enjoyable; but for our work it is better for us to be with the natives. Uakinumu bears south-west-by-west from us now, and could be reached in a few hours, if only we could get down the precipice. Rua has returned. When some distance off, he heard cooeying, and responded, when our old friend, who
had been looking for us in a great state of fear, shouted his name. Rua told him to follow, and he did so, arriving at the camp soon after. He was so excited he could not speak, but embraced us all round, and then sat down.
After breakfast, we set off, each carrying a bundle. The travelling was difficult, until we arrived on the path leading to the creek and up to Uakinumu. When on the spur, the old man shouted for the youths to come and help us; they cooeyed back, and we hoped to see them in about an hour, or at the most two hours; after waiting and no one coming, we descended, and when at the creek met a youth coming slowly along and saying others were following. I felt sure they delayed their coming to meet us until we should be near the village, where they would take the bags and receive tobacco and salt; but they were sold; we trudged on, and would not let them have a bag. We took no notice of those we met, and to their solicitations asking to carry bags we turned a deaf ear. The chief’s eldest son came along and begged to have my bag. No, on no condition. The poor old chief was in a sad state; but as we are likely to require their services some future day, it is necessary to teach them that for work or service they will be paid, but for skulking, and hoping to get tobacco and salt, their hopes are futile. We reached the village, and Oriope did all he possibly could to keep us. No, on we will go; his sleepy boys may sleep on. We gave him and
his little grandchild who accompanied him presents, bade him good-bye, and away.
6th.—Here, and in all the villages we have been, we have seen very few women and girls, and very few of the young men seem to be married. Do they kill the girls when born?
7th.—Left this morning for a mountain close by, hoping to see the windings of the Laroki from it. We had to descend 1000 feet, and then ascend 1800. From the droppings about, I should say the cassowary and pig abound in the gullies about this mountain. We found on the top a deserted village and five cocoanut-trees. We could make nothing of the Laroki, because of thick bush on top. We saw that the Munikahila creek flows west and south, until, due north of this, it turns sharp and flows north-by-east and falls into the Goldie. We reached camp with thoroughly whetted appetites, and enjoyed breakfast and dinner of pigeons and taro. We call the mountain Mount Elsie. It is north of Vetura, and west and south of Keninumu. We have seen four new villages close to one another where a teacher could work well. We have now five positions for teachers, and I hope before we have finished with this inland trip to have thirty, giving four and five villages to each teacher. In crossing one of the spurs, a native and his son brought us bananas, and water in a bamboo. It is difficult to drink out of a bamboo. Place the open end to the mouth, raise gradually, look out, here it
comes—steady. Ah, too much raised; it is a deluge streaming over you and nearly choking you. Try again—well, a little better, yet far from perfect. Choking, are you? Never mind, practise, and you will soon be an expert—a native in drinking, truly. The natives have been having a feast. They began with boiled bananas and finished with a large snake cooked in pots. It was cut up and divided out amongst all—sixteen eggs were found in her, a little larger than a good-sized fowl’s egg. They seemed to relish it much, and the gravy was much thought of. They say pig is nothing compared to snake. Ah, well, tastes differ.
9th.—We had a few noisy strangers in the village, and they seemed to be anxious that all they had to say should be heard in every house. The conversation is kept up by the inmates of the various houses, and at times all are speaking and trying to drown one another. A lull comes, and you fancy the turmoil is ended, and so roll on your side for a sleep; but, alas, it was only drawing breath, the noise being perhaps worse than before. Our chief and his wife had a quarrel over something or other last evening. Of course the woman had the best of it. Strange, she said very little, but that little seemed to be to the point. Every now and again he would shout, Pirikava! pirikava! pirikava! (Dear me! dear me! dear me!), and then scream and rage. The wife would then laugh at him, which made him worse,
screaming and dancing more than ever. She would then say something, which he would answer, and so quieted him down a little. All have gone hunting to-day—men, women, and children, pigs and dogs. Before leaving, they told us if we saw any one sneaking about, we were to be sure to shoot them; but if they came up openly to us, and pointed to the nose and stomach, they were friends, and had come for salt and tobacco. We get our water in canvas bags, and teachers or missionaries coming inland will require a set of water-bags made from the very best canvas.