he breakers and surrounded by the
reef. The only thing we could do was to turn seaward again and beat
about till daylight. After some hours the wind fell and the worst was
over; still, the night was unpleasant enough, and frequent squalls
kept us awake. We were all glad when the day broke and we were able
to enter the passage. We landed at Noumea in the finest of weather,
and our unexpected return created quite a sensation. We passengers
convinced ourselves that the cargo was considerably reduced before
starting out again the next day.

This time we arrived safely at Port Vila, where the British and
French native police forces came aboard, bound for Santo, to quell
a disturbance at Hog Harbour; and so the hapless boat was overloaded
again, this time with passengers.

Next day we arrived at Epi, and I landed at Ringdove Bay. The
station of the Messrs. F. and H. is one of the oldest in the
islands. Besides running a plantation, they trade with the natives,
and their small cutters go to all the neighbouring islands for coprah
and other produce. There is always plenty of life and movement at the
station, as there are usually a few of the vessels lying at anchor,
and natives coming in from all sides in their whale-boats to buy or
sell something. From Malekula one can often see them tacking about
all day, or, if there is a calm, drifting slowly along, as they are
too lazy to row. When they have found the passage through the reef,
they pull down the sails with much noise and laughter, and come to
anchor; then the whole crowd wades through the surf to the shore,
with the loads of coprah, and waits patiently for business to begin.

On these stations, where almost everyone is squeezed into decent
European clothes, it is a charming sight to see the naked bodies of
the genuine savages, all the more so as only young and able-bodied
men take part in these cruises, under the leadership of one older and
more experienced companion. Their beauty is doubly striking beside
the poor station hands, wrapped in filthy calico.

When the coprah has been bought and paid for, they all go to the
store, where they buy whatever they need or think they need. The
native of the coast districts to-day goes beyond needs to luxuries;
he buys costly silks, such as he may once have seen in Queensland,
and he samples sewing-machines or whatever else tempts him. In
consequence of competition, the prices for coprah and the wages of
labour are unreasonably