e another, but accompany their teachers from place to place. Men,
women, and children smoke, and will do anything for tobacco. The best
present you can give them is tobacco; it is the one thing for which they
beg.

As it was decided that the vessel should not leave before Tuesday of the
next week, Mr. McFarlane and I took a trip inland. I was anxious to see
for myself if anything could be done for the natives living in the
mountains. Mr. Goldie, a naturalist, with his party, was about ten miles
inland. He himself had been at Port Moresby for some days, and, on
hearing of our plans, he joined us, and we proceeded first to his camp.
We left Port Moresby about half-past five on Thursday morning, and
crossed the low ground at the back of the mission house. We ascended the
hill which runs all along the coast in this district at a part about
three hundred feet high, and then descended into a great plain. At
present the plain is dry and hard, from the long drought, and very little
of anything green is to be seen. There are a few small gum-trees, and
great herds of wallabies were jumping about. The greater part of this
plain is under water in the wet seasons. We walked about ten miles in an
east-north-east direction, keeping the Astrolabe Range to our right, when
we came to the camp, close by a large river--the Laroki. Being afraid of
alligators, we preferred having water poured over us to bathing in the
river.

Our party was a tolerably large one--Ruatoka (the Port Moresby teacher),
some Port Moresby natives, and four Loyalty Island teachers, on their way
to East Cape. We did not see a strange native all the way. We had our
hammocks made fast in the bush by the river side, and rested until three
p.m., when we started for another part of the river about seven miles
off, in a south-east direction. Mr. Goldie also shifted his camp. After
sunset we reached the point where the river was to be crossed, and there
we meant to remain for the night.

We had a bath, then supper, and evening prayers; after which we slung our
hammocks to the trees, in which we rested well. It was a strangely weird-
looking sight, and the noises were of a strange kind--wallabies leaping
past, and strange birds overhead. Mr. Goldie's Mare men joined with
their countrymen, the teachers, in singing some of Sankey's hymns in
English. Soon sleep came, and all seemed quiet.

At three a.m. of the 26th we struck camp, and after morning prayers