am not quite sure of the names, but I _think_ our new cruise includes
the Gilberts, the Fijis, and the Solomons. A letter might go from the
Fijis; Louis will write the particulars, of which I am not sure. As for
myself, I have had more cares than I was really fit for. To keep house
on a yacht is no easy thing. When Louis and I broke loose from the ship
and lived alone amongst the natives I got on very well. It was when I
was deathly sea-sick, and the question was put to me by the cook, "What
shall we have for the cabin dinner, what for to-morrow's breakfast, what
for lunch? and what about the sailors' food? Please come and look at the
biscuits, for the weevils have got into them, and show me how to make
yeast that will rise of itself, and smell the pork which seems pretty
high, and give me directions about making a pudding with molasses--and
what is to be done about the bugs?"--etc. etc. In the midst of heavy
dangerous weather, when I was lying on the floor clutching a basin, down
comes the mate with a cracked head, and I must needs cut off the hair
matted with blood, wash and dress the wound, and administer
restoratives. I do not like being "the lady of the yacht," but ashore!
O, then I felt I was repaid for all. I wonder did any of my letters from
beautiful Tautira ever come to hand, with the descriptions of our life
with Louis's adopted brother Ori a Ori? Ori wrote to us, if no one else
did, and I mean to give you a translation of his letter. It begins with
our native names.

_Tautira, 26 Dec. 1888._

To Teriitera (Louis) and Tapina Tutu (myself) and Aromaiterai (Lloyd)
and Teiriha (Mrs. Stevenson) Salutation in the true Jesus.

I make you to know my great affection. At the hour when you left us, I
was filled with tears; my wife, Rui Tehini, also, and all of my
household. When you embarked I felt a great sorrow. It is for this that
I went upon the road, and you looked from that ship, and I looked at you
on the ship with great grief until you had raised the anchor and hoisted
the sails. When the ship started, I ran along the beach to see you
still; and when you were on the open sea I cried out to you, "farewell
Louis": and when I was coming back to my house I seemed to hear your
voice crying "Rui farewell." Afterwards I watched the ship as long as I
could until the night fell; and when it was dark I said to myself, "if I
had wings I should fly to the ship to meet you, and to sleep amongst
you, so that I migh