seback made his appearance on the opposite beach of Fangalii. Klein
and the natives distinctly saw him signal with a lantern; which is the
more strange, as the horseman (Captain Hufnagel, plantation manager of
Vailele) had never a lantern to signal with. The praam kept in. Many men
in white were seen to stand up, step overboard, and wade to shore. At
the same time the eye of panic descried a breastwork of "foreign stone"
(brick) upon the beach. Samoans are prepared to-day to swear to its
existence, I believe conscientiously, although no such thing was ever
made or ever intended in that place. The hour is doubtful. "It was the
hour when the streak of dawn is seen, the hour known in the warfare of
heathen times as the hour of the night attack," says the Mataafa
official account. A native whom I met on the field declared it was at
cock-crow. Captain Hufnagel, on the other hand, is sure it was long
before the day. It was dark at least, and the moon down. Darkness made
the Samoans bold; uncertainty as to the composition and purpose of the
landing-party made them desperate. Fire was opened on the Germans, one
of whom was here killed. The Germans returned it, and effected a
lodgment on the beach; and the skirmish died again to silence. It was at
this time, if not earlier, that Klein returned to Apia.

Here, then, were Spengler and the ninety men of the praam, landed on the
beach in no very enviable posture, the woods in front filled with
unnumbered enemies, but for the time successful. Meanwhile, Jaeckel and
the boats had gone outside the reef, and were to land on the other side
of the Vailele promontory, at Sunga, by the buildings of the plantation.
It was Hufnagel's part to go and meet them. His way led straight into
the woods and through the midst of the Samoans, who had but now ceased
firing. He went in the saddle and at a foot's pace, feeling speed and
concealment to be equally helpless, and that if he were to fall at all,
he had best fall with dignity. Not a shot was fired at him; no effort
made to arrest him on his errand. As he went, he spoke and even jested
with the Samoans, and they answered in good part. One fellow was
leaping, yelling, and tossing his axe in the air, after the way of an
excited islander. "_Faimalosi_! go it!" said Hufnagel, and the fellow
laughed and redoubled his exertions. As soon as the boats entered the
lagoon, fire was again opened from the woods. The fifty blue-jackets
jumped overboard, hove d