e ghosts, to whom the chilliness of death still
clung. For days together their thronging shapes hid the sun, dimming the
sky and spreading among men the heaviness and oppression of spirits
which are characteristic of the season. But with the early days of
August, when the coral-tree puts forth its blood-red blossoms and the
sky grows mottled with light fleecy clouds, the ghosts of the brave
prepare to take flight for heaven. Soon the sky is cloudless, the
weather bright and warm. The ghosts have fled away, and the living
resume their wonted avocations in quiet and comfort.[68]

[68] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
162 _sq._

In their celestial home the spirits of the slain are immortal. There, in
memory of their deeds on earth, they dance their old war dances over
again, decked with gay flowers--the white gardenia, the yellow _bua_,
the golden fruit of the pandanus, and the dark crimson, bell-like
blossom of the native laurel, intertwined with myrtle; and from their
blissful heights they look down with pity and disgust on the wretched
souls in Avaiki entangled in the fatal net and besmeared with filth. For
the spirits of the slain in battle are strong and vigorous, their bodies
never having been wasted by disease; whereas the spirits of those who
die a natural death are excessively feeble and weak, like their bodies
at the moment of dissolution. The natural result of such beliefs was to
breed an utter contempt for a violent death, nay even a desire to seek
it. Many stories are told of aged warriors, scarcely able to hold a
spear, who have insisted on being led to the battlefield in the hope of
finding a soldier's death and gaining a soldier's paradise.[69]

[69] W. W. Gill, _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_, pp.
163 _sq._

Beliefs of the same general character concerning the fate of the dead
prevailed in other islands of the Hervey Group. Thus in Rarotonga the
great meeting-place of the ghosts was at Tuoro, facing the sunset. There
at a stately tree, called "the Weeping Laurel," the disembodied spirits
used to bewail their hard fate. If no pitying spirit sent him back to
life, the ghost had to scramble up a branch of an ancient _bua_ tree
which grew on the spot. Should the bough break under his weight, the
ghost was precipitated into the net which Muru had spread out for him in
a natural circular hollow of the rock. A lively ghost might break the
meshes of the net and