an extent that we could have kept afloat for only a few hours
longer, and had every reason to be glad the voyage was at an end. It
was just as well that we had not noticed the leak during the passage.

We brought Belni ashore; the thin, flabby fellow was a poor
compensation for vigorous Bourbaki. He was set to work on the
plantation, and as the Government was never informed of the affair,
he is probably there to this day, and will stay until he dies.

CHAPTER V

VAO

I had not yet solved the problem of how to get away from the Segond
Channel and find a good field of labour, when, happily, the French
priest from Port Olry came to stay a few days with his colleague at
the channel, on his way to Vao, and he obligingly granted me a passage
on his cutter. I left most of my luggage behind, and the schooner of
the French survey party was to bring it to Port Olry later on.

After a passage considerably prolonged by contrary winds, we arrived
at Vao, a small island north-east of Malekula. When one has sailed
along the lifeless, greyish-green shores of Malekula, Vao is like a
sunbeam breaking through the mist. This change of mood comes gradually,
as one notices the warm air of spring, and dry souls, weather-beaten
captains and old pirates may hardly be aware of anything beyond a
better appetite and greater thirst. And it is not easy to define what
lends the little spot such a charm that the traveller feels revived as
if escaped from some oppression. From a distance Vao looks like all the
other islands and islets of the archipelago--a green froth floating on
the white line of breakers; from near by we see, as everywhere else,
the bright beach in front of the thick forest. But what impresses
the traveller mournfully elsewhere,--the eternal loneliness and
lifelessness of a country where nature has poured all its power into
the vegetation, and seems to have forgotten man and beast,--is softened
here, and an easy joy of living penetrates everything like a delicate
scent, and lifts whatever meets the eye to greater significance and
beauty. The celestial charm of the South Sea Islands, celebrated by
the first discoverers, seems to be preserved here, warming the soul
like the sweet remembrance of a happy dream. Hardly anyone who feels
these impressions will wonder about their origin, but he will hasten
ashore and dive into the forest, driven by a vague idea of finding
some marvel. Later he will understand that the charm o