f his
seeing his father "take a knife and open a vein in his arm so that a
baby girl, who was dying of hunger, could drink".

Relentless in their hate of the vanquished foe, the Manono warriors
established a cordon around them from the mountain range that traverses
the centre of Upolu to the sea, and at last, after many engagements,
drove them to the beach, where a final battle was fought. Exhausted,
famine-stricken, and utterly disheartened by their continuous reverses,
the unfortunate A'ana people were easily overcome, and the fighting
survivors surrendered, appealing to their enemies to at least spare the
lives of their women and children.

But no mercy was shown. As night began to fall, the Manonoans began to
dig a huge pit at a village named Maota, a mile from the scene of the
battle, and as some dug, others carried an enormous quantity of dead
logs of timber to the spot. By midnight the dreadful funeral pyre was
completed.

In case that it might be thought by my readers that I am exaggerating
the horrors of "The Pit of Maota," I will not here relate what I,
personally, was told by people who were present at the awful deed,
but repeat the words of Mr. Stair, an English missionary of the London
Missionary Society, whose book, entitled Old Samoa, tells the story
in quiet, yet dramatic language, and although in regard to some minor
details he was misinformed, his account on the whole is correct, and is
the same as was told to me by men who had actually participated in the
tragedy.

The awful preparations were completed, and then the victors, seizing
those of their captives who were bound on account of their strength and
had a few hours previously surrendered, hurried them to the fatal pit,
in which the huge pile of timber had been lit. And as the flames roared
and ascended, and the darkness of the surrounding forest was made as
light as day, the first ten victims of four hundred and sixty-two were
cast in to burn, amid the howls and yells of their savage captors.

Mr. Stair says: "This dreadful butchery was continued during one or two
days and nights, fresh timber being heaped on from time to time, as it
was with difficulty that the fire could be kept burning, from the number
of victims who were ruthlessly sacrificed there.

"The captives from Fasito'otai were selected for the first offerings,
and after them followed others in quick succession, night and day,
early and late, until the last wretched victim had b