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Savaii Squires - Sail for Savaii - View of the Island---Monkey Jack - Two Sorts of Patriarchs - An Awful Liar-Spanish Mike - Bad Travelling - Heat in the Scrub-'Latomai' - Pala Pala - Sufferings of the Boys - Lalaltele - Fagamilo - Return to PaIa Pala - Awful Back-track - In the Bright Lagoon - Manono - The Lovely Salu - Offer of Marriage - Moonlight - Arrive Home.

LATE in December last year I had received news of the death of two of the old Savaii Squires, whom I knew to have bean men of some property, and hearing nothing from their representatives, I thought it my duty to go and look them up personally; so accordingly, accompanied by the doctor, I took my boat down the coast to Mulifanua, where we stopped the night, intending to cross over to Savaii the first thing next morning.

At daylight, after having procured a boy acquainted with the reef passages, off we started; and clearing the Mulifanua reef on a nice smooth swell, with a good breeze, we flew past Apolima and M5mono, and after three hours' pleasant open-sea sailing, were under the protection of the reef once again off Safotulafai.

The view from the passage was very fine : the central mountains of the island loomed out grandly, their topmost peaks clothed with a pink-coloured mist, through which, however, their forms could plainly be traced. The mountains, starting with an abrupt descent from this cloud-line, melted away into the plain below in very gradual incline, densely covered with the dark and sombre bush, scarcely yet explored by the morning's sun. Along the beach snugly secure at the base of the foot-hills, peeped out the houses of the various towns scattered broadcast on the bright white coral beach, and surrounded with their usual bread-fruit and cocoa-nut groves, in picturesque and quiet contrast with the wilder-looking background. Sprinkled about here and there, conspicuous in their bright whiteness of coral lime, were the houses of the various white traders of those parts, and the missionaries' dwellings and churches.

Skirting along the coast inside the reef, we doubled a long point, and coasting closely we at last arrived at ' Llano,' the residence of 'Monkey Jack,' one of the 'Savaii Squires' mentioned before, where we landed, and were made very welcome by his widow. He was a very good sort of man, originally a stone-mason, to which fact no doubt is owing the solid-built house of masonry he had there, which was the only one undamaged by the late hurricane.

Nothing could have exceeded the kindness of Mrs. 'Monkey Jack' and her Samoan daughters-in-law, three of whom were most remarkably well-mannered, handsome specimens of the race, and would have reflected credit on any family anywhere. This is generally the case where the white man brings up his family according to his own ideas, and does not descend entirely to the native style of life, and leave all his domestic arrangements to his Samoan wife.

Grandchildren and other relations were sprinkled all over the place, and from the fact that the old man had reared ten children, all of whom had married early, the relations, from a Samoan point of view, would have filled a considerable-sized town.

Having to go farther up the coast upon a similar ,errand, and the eldest son of the family not being at home to do business with, I decided to proceed on my journey. The only question was, whether it was better to go by boat or across country; and the uncertainty of the weather, aided by the awful lies of an old rascal J a beachcomber called 'Spanish Mike,' who assured us that by starting early we could get to Matautu overland by three o'clock in the afternoon, and the fact that I myself was always inclined to exploration, decided us to adopt the latter plan. This fact-perverting Mike also entertained us with a choice selection of stories, especially designed for strangers; but finding us somewhat sceptical, he left soon, and we retired with innumerable 'moe leleis' from the Monkey Jack brigade, who were wildly proud of their British origin.

We travelled along the beach through one continuous line of villages for about two miles, until we, came to a town called 'Pua Pua,' when we struck into the bush, and our troubles began; and it was not long before we wished we had taken the bearers' advice, and not listened to that perjured Spanish Mike.

Our course lay straight inland over the most awful path I ever had the misfortune to travel. At its best it would have been bad enough, being in a thin bush, with the sun red-hot above, and composed of loose scoria rocks swaying under every footstep; but since the hurricane, as our bearers had warned us, trees had been thrown across it every few yards, making progression one continuous effort of crawling under and climbing over, or else a sort of tight-rope performance the length of some slippery trunk, to land upon some abominable rock.

After travelling thus for two hours the trees ceased, when we crossed about two miles of scrub and tall grass full in the blazing sun, without the slightest shelter or breath of wind. Our guides appeared to feel it as much as we did, which, at all events, was some satisfaction, for they, right as they were about the villainous road, were quite wrong about the cocoa-nuts we should find.

Having struggled across this great Sahara of scrub, we came to the tall bush again, and welcome indeed was its shade, although the beat was still intense. Still more grateful was the sight of a clump of cocoa-nuts, which were immediately robbed of a few of their treasures, as we greedily assuaged our thirst with their cool contents.

Here we determined to rest for an hour to recruit a little, after the rough experiences we had gone through, and which I for one now wished we had never commenced; and to find out what more evils were before us, we set to work cross-examining our chief guide, but could get nothing more satisfactory out of him than the usual 'latomai' (near). Everything was that infernal 'latomai' - where we were going, where we had come from, and far beyond; but one thing was very evident to us, viz., that we should get no farther than Pala Pala that night, if we ever got there at all.

Sufficiently rested, off we went again through the same old programme of over, under, and along logs, occasionally having a rest in hobbling over stages of loose hot scoria rocks, varied, however, now and then, with a wade knee-deep in beastly black mud pools; and thus it continued until we came to the course of a dried-up river, now but a chain of shallow waterholes.

PsIa Pala was 'latomai' here again; but we paid no more attention to that fraudulent word, for Pua Pua, from whence we had come, was 'latomai' too. The only place that we could get the wretches to say was ' mua mua' (far off), was Apia, in the other island.

We derived some encouragement from the signs of soap-suds round the edges of some of the smaller puddles, indicative of washing having recently been done there, and consequently the presence of houses in the neighbourhood, which we fondly hoped might prove to be Pala Pala; and a native coming in sight at the time, our hopes were confirmed. So we tubbed, changed our clothes, and proceeding on our journey, shortly arrived at the bush town of Pala Pala, beyond which neither ourselves nor our boys could go, if we would; so we took up our quarters at the teacher's house, as tired out as we well could be, and retired to rest under a mosquito-net spread for us by our kind. hostess. Tired as we were, we could not get to sleep for the fearful noise made by the mosquitoes. Our eagle friends of Utumapu were nothing to these demons, who, in their bloodthirsty determination to get at us, literally shook the curtain.

Our bearers in the morning complained bitterly of their sufferings during the night, for they, poor fellows, had no screen, and were pretty well worried to death.

We got on foot again shortly after daylight en route for Matautu, where resided the people I wanted to see, and found the road a great improvement on yesterday's hard travelling. Here the inhabitants had taken some trouble to 'improve their tracks and keep them clear. About a mile from Pala Pala the road crossed an almost dry river-course, whose deep water-cut gorges, however, clearly indicated that at times there must be a terrible amount of power shown in its passage to the sea. It is furrowed out of the solid black lava rock, rising in sullen perpendicular cliffs on either side, on the top ledges of which are to be seen all sorts of debris left there when the river is running its highest.

Following down the right bank, continually passing through luxuriant plantations of taro, yams, bananas, etc., we recrossed the river-bed, with a town situated on either bank; thence travelling onwards through a rich country teeming with all sorts of native foods, we arrived on the. coast again at the town of Lalatele, where we halted for a moment. Thence our road lay along the beach through village after village, until we arrived at Fagamalo, the place of my destination. Here was the house of the deceased, a very nice one built upon the European model, where resided his widow, who made us quite at home; and after Kava and a meal, I finished my official business, and by three o'clock we were on our way back again to Pala, Pala, in spite of all sorts of invitations to stop for a day or two and see the country.

Arrived at Pala Pala we remained during, the night, and by daylight were at the river on our way back to Pua Pua, and, after the experience of our awful passage up, in no happy frame of mind. At the river we breakfasted, and started on the struggle home. Being now in better walking trim, we did not suffer so much as in coming; but still it was trying enough, and glad we were to get back to Llano -, vowing never to take that route again. Careful inquiries were made for that vile Spanish Mike, but he was not to be found, no doubt not considering it quite safe to present, himself for personal congratulations on the wonderfully good road on which he could get to Matautu by three o'clock in the afternoon.

At Llano we took to the boat again as far on our homeward track as Faga, the residence of a young half-caste friend of mine, where we slept, and continued our journey the next morning. Passing the. pretty quarters of the London missionary in residence, we looked in for a visit and to transact a little business I had with him, and after breakfast got under way for the passage through the reef. It was a splendid bright day, but there was not a breath of wind as we rowed slowly over the still, crystal-clear waters of the lagoon, admiring the beautiful coral formations so distinctly to be seen in the depths below.

With awning spread, it was pleasant indeed to let the eyes rest upon, not gaze at, the brilliant panorama continually passing shorewards, where everything looked so peaceful and inviting. On the reefside, although there was no wind, the large swells were dashing themselves to pieces, rebounding heavenwards in wreaths of feathery spray, all quivering and trembling, suspended in the hot air in ragged and flickering outline for moments at a time, whilst the hoarse whispering of their booming crash on the jagged coral barrier soothingly reached the listening ear, and enhanced greatly the wondrous sense of dreamy repose suggested by the beautiful entourage.

When we got near the reef it became necessary to stop dreaming and attend to realities once more, especially as we had carefully selected the very worst time to make the passage, viz., low tide. Although quite smooth, the swell was breaking rather heavily from the outside; but with a little care and he pilotage of one of the crew-who, I believe, knew nothing at all about the place, and left us on a rock for a moment right in the middle, which, however, the next breaker took us off-we got through all right, and soon were balancing About on the oily swells on their way to annihilation against the ever-opposing coral.

As there was no wind to fetch our destination, the far-off island of Upolu, and no guarantee at this time of the year that our smooth water would not be raging in wrath at any moment, we thought it advisable to make the open sea-voyage as short as possible, and steered straight for Manono, which, with Apolima on her right hand, stood about six miles off. Approaching the protecting reef we could see no spot quite clear of white water, so choosing the most likely place, I went in the bows to pilot, leaving the doctor at the helm.

On the top of the first wave we got on all right, going in at a grand pace; but as it passed ahead of us it bared a great coral rock right across our direct run in. I shouted out for the helm to be put right over, and the port oars to pull a hard stroke or two, in spite of the danger of bringing the boat broadside to the next roller; but before that could be done it was on us, and instead of smashing us to pieces on the obstacle, took us up and actually threw us right over it into smooth water. I don't mean that it threw us right over a dry rock, but that on its crest we rode over it; had the boat not been a most buoyant one, we should have arrived in the lagoon in rather a different state of repair.

Rowing peacefully up the lagoon about a mile off shore, we doubled the south-east point and put in to pay a visit to our old friend Leiatava Sau-Sau, the Governor of the island, and have a talk with the lovely 'Salu,' his daughter, who did us the honour of chewing a bowl of Kava for our refreshment. She was a fine tall specimen of a native girl of rank, but was so intensely high-bred, that during the earlier portion of her youth no one could be found good enough to marry her; and now in her Samoan middle age her people were beginning to feel that she had depreciated somewhat in value as a tribal article of barter, and were anxious to get her off their hands at a reduced price. Whether it was to be taken as a compliment or not, I don't know, but she was offered to both the doctor and myself, the former for choice, as a really good matrimonial speculation; but in each case the kind offer was declined. She was a very good-looking girl and with grand manners, but had been greatly spoilt by European admiration.

At sunset we left the hospitable little island, which we last saw from the distance standing out in beautifully clear outline in the sheen of the rays of an intensely silvery moon, sparkling and dancing merrily on the rippling water, until vanishing in the warm depths of Savaii, faintly to be distinguished afar of, After a charming trip in this glorious moonlight, we arrived at our starting-point, Apia.

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