er the roar of their explosion, and for the raging sea the crash of
blows, given and taken, and the sobbing breath of men. Here the Tongan
rock withheld the enemy, while the army of the Government rolled over
the wall in a resistless torrent, and with tumult and fury beset the
Mataafas until they fled. Now, O'olo, with coolness, had already marked
an old chief of towering stature and magnificent appearance as the one
whose head he would take, unwishful of a boy's, or that of a person of
no importance, and him he pressed hard in the rout, and at last laid low
with the butt of his weapon, straddling his body, and prepared to hack
at his throat with his knife.

The old chief, whose hurt had not bereft him of his senses, begged
piteously for his life in a voice choked by the weight of O'olo on his
chest, and troubled by the imminence of death; offering first ten cans
of biscuit, and then twenty, and then property and fine mats in
quantities unstinted. But O'olo, although it was like a beautiful dream
come true, dallied with the killing, being squeamish in regard to it,
and needing a space to confirm his resolution, he saying with derision:
"Thou pig-faced person, thou hast not the property thou namest, and even
wert thou the Lord of the earth, yet still would I take thy head!" To
which the fallen warrior made answer: "I am Tangaloa, the high-chief of
Leatatafili, in Savai'i, and the property I speak of is no myth, and all
of it thine if thou wilt spare me." To which O'olo replied: "And when I
should claim it, verily thou wouldst forget thy covenant, and order thy
young men to chastise me forth, they laughing at the cheat, and I with
neither head nor property, and the back of me lacerated with blows!"
Then the old chief fell into a great tremble, repeating: "No, no," his
flesh shrinking on his bones, and horror in his face; and as O'olo
looked down at him, making motions with his knife, the Tongan's thought
was suddenly moved into a new direction, and lo, it was like a burning
torch in a cavern, so bright it was in the darkness of his previous
purpose, he saying: "Oh, Tangaloa, there is a price, and that is my
adoption as thy son, and to that wilt thou pledge thyself in an oath
before God?" To which, overjoyed, the venerable warrior consented with
impetuosity, crying out that he would do so, and seeing in the proposal
the high-chief-hand of God, for had not his own son lately died?

"And cherish me, and love me?" demanded O'