amusement is hunting for crayfish on the reef at
low tide.

My boys' term of service was over in a month. They were very much
afraid of being taken to another island, which was natural in a way,
as a savage is really not as safe in a strange place as a white
man. Besides, they had had their desire and had seen Noumea, so that
there was no longer any inducement for them to stay with me. They
accordingly became most disagreeable, slow, sulky and sleepier than
ever, and as I could not be punishing them all day long, life with
them became somewhat trying. It is disappointing to find so little
gratitude, but the natives are quite unaccustomed to be treated
better by a white man than his interest demands, so that they suspect
a trap in every act of kindness. Under the circumstances, I thought
it best to dismiss my boys, and, finding little of interest in Epi,
the natives having nearly all died out, I boarded the Australian
steamer for Ambrym.

Although Ambrym is only twenty-five miles from Epi, I was five days
on the way, so zigzag a route did the steamer pursue. But if one is
not in a hurry, life on board is quite entertaining. The first day we
anchored near the volcano of Lopevi, a lofty peak that rises from a
base six kilometres in diameter to a height of 1440 metres, giving its
sides an average slope of 48 deg. which offers rather an unusual sight. The
whole of Lopevi is rarely to be seen, as its top is usually covered
with a thick cloud of fog or volcanic steam. It is still active,
and but few whites have ascended it. At periods of great activity,
the natives climb to the top and bring sacrifices to appease it,
by throwing cocoa-nuts and yam into the crater.

We touched at Port Sandwich, and then steamed along the coast of
Malekula, calling every few miles at some plantation to discharge
goods, horses, cattle and fowls, and take on maize or coprah. At
last we arrived at Dip Point, Ambrym, where I was kindly received by
Dr. B. of the Presbyterian Mission, who is in charge of the fine large
hospital there. Its situation is not more picturesque than others,
but the place has been made so attractive that one can hardly imagine
a more lovely and restful sight. The buildings stand on level ground
that slopes softly down to the beach. The bush has been cleared,
with the exception of a number of gigantic fig trees, that overshadow
a green lawn. Under their airy roof there is always a light breeze,
blowing from the hills down