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Should" (see complete list of relationships above) "should these FIGHT?" Shouts of "Toroa is right. We are fools. But let the vaka come here and trade !" from the Ambupono.

"Our son, Waykayfeeloo (this was rather trying), hath brought of the goods of the vaka; but are they small? or are they light? or are they few? Are our canoes vakas that we can bring much? Is it for us to order him to give, give, give? Who, who are we that we should offer you presents? Are we tindalos! Say!" Loud cries of "Eat my Forbidden Food!" and "By Hauri, Olékama, &c., but the great man speaks so as to hit it! Who is a tindalo? True! True! Toroa the

chief!"

And then he went on as if not noticing their interruption : "The sun subsides. The words of Malagai are these: 'Let Tolondo and Hiri distribute the gifts of our Great Man!' say I, this fag end of a Toroa here, a poor bachelor!" and with a whirl, outdoing Rasa's, he danced off.

The "Great Man," however, had determined to be his own master, and to give his presents with his own hands. He had asked me to go ashore with him and point out the most prominent and deserving people, and I had said yes.

Manaha and Iru, as usual, dictated to Mr. Wakefield about giving too much, whereupon he gave double.

He says he was never more kindly received anywhere. Here is Mr. Wakefield's account of the wind up of the affair : "Suddenly Toroa must needs add to his barbaric magnificence by letting off with much trouble and uncertainty an ancient musket, presented to him by some indiscreet person on board the Man-of-war, whose report made him and every one else jump in the most absurd way. I thought it was a most injudicious thing to do; but we shouted out that it was only our 'Good-bye.' After seeing as many individuals as possible, and making my little bag of treasure go as far as possible, we shook hands again and got on board our fleet, the two parties having

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mixed freely together after I broke the ice-if the simile will hold in these parts.

"Rasa stood on the shore in front of his people and sang out, without puffs or prompter:

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Arovigo Waymaykayloo! Poor Waymaykayloo! Away with you!' over and over again. I stood up and shouted in reply: Kabu, Rasa!' Stay, Rasa! Then we went back tootoo-too-ing on the conch in the most triumphant, self-satisfied

manner.

"A most successful Sunday afternoon's work. Felt on the point of offering up a prayer, but thought it might be incongruous."

At night we lit our lantern and hung it from the gable of our hut, which was on a level with Mr. Wakefield's elbows when he stood up. There we had our Evening Prayer, and sang our hymns under the stars, and my friend prayed God to bless the peace and make it lasting, and to bless both Uri and Ambupono in their planting, digging, fishing, to make them increase and multiply, and to cease to fight and destroy each other. I know that it made a very great impression on the hundreds that heard it; although it was our singing and the lantern that had been the chief attraction.

Thus, for the first time since I can remember, was Pombuana at peace from end to end.

CHAPTER LIII.

ANOTHER THREAD SNAPPED.

THAT very evening was our satisfaction destroyed by the arrival of a messenger, bearing the news that a "bad vessel" had been to Halavo, Arthur's place, and that there had been a fight. Making allowance for our love of exaggeration—a necessity, in

order to make people pay attention; just as I notice you put a very wide margin and a very large frame about a tiny picture, to set it off, as you say: making allowance for the width of the margin of murder and for the large-sized frame of horrors, Mr. Wakefield felt sure that there was a picture connected with them, and one quite sad enough.

It was fortunate that we had our boat, with which my friend had intended to return without the fleet, by way of the open sea, visiting the Ambupono and Matambala shores, and stopping a day or two at Rota, and so circumnavigate the Matambala and Ambupono district of Pombuana. By that time the Aurora would be due.

The fleet had intended to pay Halavo a visit, and extort money from the people, for being honoured by a visit from "Waykayfeeloo," but Malagai's leg stood in the way, and stopped the proceeding. Next morning, at dawn, the order he gave was, "Off at once for Uri !"

So we parted. Percy, and I, and Curwen, and Kui, started for Halavo, an hour's pull, as soon as our friends had gone ; and there we found a terrible state of affairs.

There was a vessel in the offing, and on the abandoned shore were the ashes of Arthur's home, and ten or twelve dead bodies.

Among them we recognised the dead faces of Vili, Nola, and of the traitor, Taorémbé. Percy Wakefield had strayed away, apparently overcome with disgust and sickness at the sight.

We set to work to raise the bodies and prepare shrouds of mats; for having lost Diara, I could sympathise with poor Arthur, who had lost two dear relatives in one day.

We were interrupted by a cry from the higher part of the beach. I ran at once, fearing some new calamity was about to fall upon us.

There, in the midst of the ashes, broken bowls, battered canoes, and felled cocoanut trees, the ruins of a quiet innocent

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home, stood Mr. Wakefield, very pale, and pointing to something at his feet. That something was a white face, with a dark beard, lying in a pool of blood, soaking into the hot ashes which burned my feet. It was the once dreaded face of Darken, dead and dishonoured. His body was found in the bush, whither it had been dragged by his victims, half eaten by wild hogs. The head they had tossed into the middle of the ruin he had made. Not that he had burnt the village; the villagers own wild hands, robbed of all that had made it house and home, had burnt it in senseless childish vengeance, and for the sake of rendering their rage and grief endurable. They had broken the bowls, battered their own canoes, felled and torn down their groves, and gone away! One of them, an aged care-worn woman, brotherless, homeless, sonless, for her bright boy was gone to some far distant land, and there was none left to comfort her, had sunk down dead upon the path leading to the little stream where they used to draw their water. She had given up going about much, and Vili and Nola used to wait upon her, for she was past work and bowed with infirmity. She had lived to see those two dead bodies on the shore-Roé was gone-those two were dead-Arthur as good as dead, gone where she believed the dead people went— and while her stiff and feeble limbs were hurrying away, her old benighted heart broke down, and the aching bones fell and lay still. How merciful to take her then when her life had been lived out! But it was pitiful to see her lying dead on the ground like a ruffled bird, useless and thrown away, where her awkward flight had come to a sudden end. In her lifeless hand was a little framed likeness of Arthur Rogani and me, taken by Mr. Carter. How I cried as I took it out of her unresisting fingers. Poor Koéndéré ! If I had not been a Christian I could not have borne the sight.

We found out the refuge of the scattered people. There were only young men and women and children left, and they

ran away at our approach. But at last I went alone and calmed them; and all of us, including the dear beloved sharer of our joys and sorrows, paid our last care and attention to our helpless ones, and buried them side by side.

After that, we silently put away the head and remains of Darken and the corpse of Taorémbé.

As the falling earth hid the unhappy look of the hard white face from the sight of heaven, Mr. Wakefield, gazing sadly and sternly round upon us, said slowly and solemnly, ending the matter forever upon earth, and rendering that spot a tambu and an Abomination :

"Vengeance is mine: I will repay-saith the LORD."

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We afterwards heard that Taorémbé, in the pay of Captain Darken, had been acting as "decoy-duck" for him, and was enticing his own people into the trap when the fray took place, in which Vili speared Taorémbé, who was shot down by Darken, who in his turn was clubbed by Nola. Then the white crew fired a volley into our people and took to the boat.

Thus another disabled ship put into Sydney, and our character as blood-thirsty cannibals was duly magnified by the authors of the outrage. But those most kind-hearted Christians of Sydney did not hear the mourning, lamentations, and woe of those whose homes were broken up and whose lives were robbed of all that made them pleasant and worth living. We are not known to them as those who have homes, wives, brothers, sisters-whose ruthless destruction and death crush us down with a sorrow that is without hope; or they would have mingled their tears with his who stood that day desolated by our desolation, amid the ruin and slaughter of what was once a Home.

Bidding the sorrowing people farewell, and promising that their "Son," Arthur Rogani, should visit them soon, we departed. The weather was calm, and we would not let Mr. Wakefield do anything but steer.

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