the banquet of the evening. The feast began well, but towards midnight
a general fight was going on, which came to an end by the combatants
falling asleep one by one. Thus the new year was begun miserably,
and the next few days were just as bad. The natives looked on at the
fights with round-eyed astonishment; and the director was in despair,
for a second cyclone was threatening, and there was hardly anyone in
a fit condition to help him secure the launch.

All one morning it rained, and at noon the cyclone broke, coming from
the south-west, as it had done the first time, but with threefold
violence. We sat on the veranda, ready to jump off at any moment,
in case the house should be blown away. The view was wiped out by
the mist; dull crashes resounded in the forest, branches cracked and
flew whirling through the air, all isolated trees were broken off
short, and the lianas tangled and torn. The blasts grew ever more
violent and frequent, and if the house had not been protected by the
mountain, it could never have resisted them. As it was, it shook and
creaked, and a little iron shed went rolling along the ground like
a die. Down in the plain the storm tore the leaves off the palms,
and uprooted trees and blew down houses. The cyclone reached its
climax at sunset, then the barometer rose steadily, and suddenly
both wind and rain ceased. The stillness lasted for about half an
hour and then the storm set in again, this time from the north,
striking the house with all its strength; fortunately it was not so
violent as at first. With the rising barometer the storm decreased and
changed its direction to the east. All next day it rained and blew;
but on the third morning the storm died out in a faint breeze from
the south-east, and when we came to reckon up our damages, we found
that it might have been worse. Meanwhile the employes had had time
to recover from their orgy. A brilliant day dried the damp house,
and soon everything resumed a normal aspect except the forest, which
looked brown and ragged, like autumn woods at home.

I made use of the first calm day to visit the lonely little islet of
Meralava. As it has no anchorage, no one can land there except in
quiet weather, and so it had come about that the company's employe
had had no communication with the outside world for four months. The
island is an extinct volcano, a regular cone, with the crater as a deep
cavity in the top. There is hardly a level square metre on t