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plenty of "angona," that evening. It is offered you in a different way
in Samoa. In Fiji, the man or girl, who hands you the coconut-shell
cup on bended knee, crouches at your feet till you have finished. In
Fijian villages a sort of crier or herald goes round the houses every
night crying the orders for the next day in a loud resonant voice, and
at once all talking ceases in the hut outside which he happens to be.

The next two days it blew a regular hurricane, and the captain dared
not venture out to sea, our schooner lying safely at anchor inside the
coral reef. I have not space to describe my stay here, but it proved
most enjoyable, and the captain's pretty Samoan daughters gave several
"meke-mekes" (Fijian dances) in my honour, and plenty of "angona"
was indulged in, and what with feasts, native games and first-class
fishing inside the coral reef, the time passed all too quickly. I
called on the "Buli" or village chief, with the captain. He was a
boy of fifteen, and seemed a very bashful youth.

We sailed again about five a.m. on the third morning, as the storm
seemed to be dying down and the captain was anxious to get on. We
had not gone far, however, before the gale increased in fury until it
turned into a regular hurricane. First our foresheet was carried away;
this was followed by our staysail, and things began to look serious,
in fact, most unpleasantly so. The captain almost seemed to lose his
head, and cursed loud and long. He declared that he had been a fool
to put out to sea before the storm had gone down, and the _Lurline,_
being an old boat, could not possibly last in such a storm, and
added that we should all be drowned. This was not pleasant news,
and as the cabin was already half-full of water, and we expected
each moment to be our last, I remained on deck for ten weary hours,
clinging like grim death to the ropes, while heavy seas dashed over
me, raking the little schooner fore and aft.

Toward evening, however, the wind subsided considerably, which enabled
us to get into the calm waters of the Somo-somo Channel between the
islands of Vanua Levu and Taviuni.

The wreckage was put to rights temporarily, the Samoans, who had
previously made up their minds that they were going to be drowned,
burst forth into their native songs, and we broke our long fast
of twenty-four hours, as we had eaten nothing since the previous
evening. It was an experience I am not likely to forget, as it was the
worst st