purity as here. Everywhere
else they had mingled with the taller population, while here they
had kept somewhat apart, and represented an element by themselves,
so that I was fortunate in having my attention drawn to them here,
as elsewhere I might easily have overlooked them.

The trail by which we were travelling was one of the worst I ever
saw in the islands, and the weather did not improve. The higher
up we went, the thicker was the fog; we seemed to be moving in a
slimy mass, breathing the air from a boiler. At noon we reached
the lonely hut, where a dozen men and women squatted, shivering
with cold and wet, crowded together under wretched palm-leaf mats,
near a smouldering fire. There were some children wedged into the
gaps between the grown-ups. Our arrival seemed to rouse these poor
people from their misery a little; one man after the other got up,
yawning and chattering, the women remained sitting near the fire. We
made them some hot tea, and then I began to measure and take pictures,
to which they submitted quite good-humouredly.

I was much struck by the fact of these men and women living together,
a most unusual thing in a Melanesian district, where the separation
of the sexes and the "Suque" rules are so rigorously observed.

We started off once more in the icy rain, keeping along the crest
of the hill, which was just wide enough for the path. The mountain
sloped steeply down on either side, the thick mist made an early
twilight, we could only see the spot where we set our feet, while
all the surroundings were lost in grey fog, so that we felt as though
we were walking in a void, far above all the world. At nightfall we
arrived at a solitary hut--the home of our companions. After having
repaired the broken roof, my boys succeeded in lighting a fire,
though how they did it is a mystery, as matches and everything else
were soaked. Soon tea and rice were boiling, while I tried to dry
my instruments, especially my camera, whose watertight case had not
been able to resist the rain. Then I wrapped myself up in my blanket,
sipped my tea and ate my rice, and smoked a few pipes. It certainly
is a reward for the day's work, that evening hour, lying satisfied,
tired and dreamy, under the low roof of the hut, while outside the
wind roars through the valley and the rain rattles on the roof, and a
far-off river rushes down a gorge. The red fire paints the beams above
me in warm colours, and in the dark corners the smok