the natives pass through life, I
had thought them incapable of any work of public utility. They rarely
think of repairing a road or cutting a vine, nor do they remove trees
that may have fallen across the path, but always rely on others to
see to it.

The second village was not much cleaner than the first, but we camped
there, and the next day I went with the moli and a few of my boys to
the western mountains. The natives warned us, saying that the people
were "no good" and would kill us. But, for one thing, I could not
see that they themselves were particularly "good," and, for another,
I knew that all natives consider other tribes especially dangerous;
so I stuck to my intention, only we hung all our available weapons
about us, leaving the rest of the boys defenceless.

This turned out one of the most strenuous days I ever had in the
islands, as the road--and what a road!--constantly led up and down
the steepest slopes. It seemed to me we were climbing perpendicular
mountains all day long, and I had many an opportunity of admiring the
agility of my companions. I am a fair walker myself, but I had to crawl
on my hands and knees in many spots where they jumped from a stone to
a root, taking firm hold with their toes, never using their hands,
never slipping, and always with a loaded and cocked rifle on their
shoulders. My boys from the coast, good pedestrians though they were,
always remained far behind.

First we reached well-tended taro fields, then a few scattered
huts. The natives received us very kindly, and more men kept joining
us, till we formed a big, jolly crowd. The population here seemed very
primitive, and evidently had but little contact with the shore, but
they were clean and comparatively healthy and flourishing, and I found
them rather more frank, childlike and confiding than others I had seen.

We roasted our yam, and while we were enjoying our frugal but
delicious meal, I witnessed rather an amusing episode. A bushman,
painted black for mourning, suddenly called to one of my boys, and
wanted to shake hands with him. My boy, a respectable "schoolboy,"
was visibly annoyed by the idea of having anything to do with a naked
"man-bush," and behaved with icy reserve; but he could not long resist
the rural cordiality of the other, and presently resigned himself to
his fate, and made friends. It turned out that they had once worked
together in Vila, and one had become an elegant young swell, while
the othe