see no more _paepaes_," replied Orivie.

"Then," I said, "let us hasten onward."

We mounted at every foot, and soon were above the cocoanuts. The
trail was a stream interspersed with rocks, for in these steep
accents the path, worn lower than its borders, becomes in the rainy
season the natural bed of the trickle or torrent that runs to the
valley. The horse leaped from rock to rock, planting his back feet
and springing upward to a perch, upon which he hung until he got
balance for another leap. I followed the animal, knowing him wiser
in such matters than I. From time to time Orivie urged me to ride
and when I refused gave me the knowing look bestowed upon the witless,
the glance of the asylum-keeper upon the lunatic who thinks himself
a billiard ball.

We were soon so high that I saw below only a big basin, in which was
a natural temple, the vast ruin of a gigantic minster, it seemed,
and across the basin a rugged, saw-like profile of the mountain-top.
Eons ago the upper valley was a volcano, when the island of
Fatu-hiva was under the sea. Once the fire burst through the crater
side toward the present beach, and after the explosion there was
left a massive gateway of rock, through which we had come from the
village. Towering so high that they were hardly perceptible when we
had been beside them, they showed from this height their whole
formation, like the wrecked walls of a stupendous basilica.

Up and up we went. The way was steeper than any mountain I have ever
climbed, except the sheer sides of chasms where ropes are necessary,
or the chimneys of narrow defiles. I have climbed on foot Vesuvius,
Halaakela, Kilauea, Fuji, and Mayon, and the mountains of America,
Asia, and South America, though I know nothing by trial of the
terrors of the Alps. However, the horse could and did go up the steep,
though it taxed him to the utmost, and these horses are like
mountain-goats, for there is hardly any level land in the Marquesas.

[Illustration: Catholic Church at Hanavave
Frere Fesal on left, Pere Olivier on right]

[Illustration: A canoe in the surf at Oomoa]

Unexpectedly, the sea came in view, with the Catholic church and its
white belfry, but in another turn it disappeared. I fell again and
again; the horse floundered among the stones in the trough and fell,
too, Orivie seizing trees or bushes that lined the banks to save
himself. Rocks as large as hundred-ton vessels were on the
mountainside above, held from f