houses have never been burnt down. The Boera chief—a capital fellow to have—speaks this dialect very fluently. Our people at first were very much afraid, but soon settled down, and are now roving about.
Suddenly the war-horn was heard blowing—not the pig-horn, so often heard on the coast. I wondered what was up, but it turned out to be only the youth training. Two new double canoes came down the river with large complements of paddles, all young lads, gaily dressed. A number of young men, painted and extravagantly dressed, have been here; they lately killed some Moveavans, and are hence greatly admired by old and young.
I had to take off my boots and socks, and allow my feet to be admired, also to show off my chest. All shout with delight, and every new arrival must have a look. The sun was frightfully hot. Some men were fishing on the breakers; they had a long post, with a cross-bar, on which they stand, fixed in the sand, head covered with native cloth, and bow and arrow ready.
A number of people came in from Vailala. They wish I would go down with them, but it is too late to go so far in an open boat. I have had another meeting with the leading men, and I think all is now peace. My friend Rahe seems a great personage, with relatives innumerable. He wants to know if I would like to be alone in the dubu; only say it, and all the
men will leave. I prefer them remaining, and I will make myself comfortable on the front platform.
In the evening, men and women—I suppose they would say “elegantly dressed”—bodies besmeared with red pigment, croton and dracæna leaves, and feathers of various birds fixed on head, arms, and legs, paraded the villages. At present all move about armed, and in this establishment bows, bent and unbent, and bundles of arrows are on all sides.
Rahe has just been to me to ask for boat medicine.
“What do you mean, Rahe?”
“I want you to give me some of that medicine you use to make your boat sail.”
“I use no medicine, only Motu strong arms.”