anslated into Samoan by the missionaries. When the natives
discovered he was its author they immediately named him Tusitala, The
Teller-of-Tales. He still owned the bottle, they said; it was that gave
him the wealth to cruise about in a great boat and build a fine house.
The family often wondered why native visitors were curious to see the
inside of the great safe in the hall at Vailima until they found that it
was the belief among the islanders that the safe was the bottle's
hiding-place.

Mrs. Stevenson, senior, returned with Lloyd from England, and later Mrs.
Strong and her small son, Austin, came from Honolulu to make the family
complete.

The servants were all natives, "boys" as they called themselves. There
were usually about half a dozen about the house, with a boy for the
garden and to look after the cows and pigs, besides a band of outside
laborers, varying from half a dozen to thirty, under Lloyd's direction.

Sosimo was Stevenson's particular boy. He waited upon him hand and foot,
looked after his clothes and his pony "Jack," and was devoted in every
way. His loyalty to his master lasted to the end of his own life.

The servants were governed on something very like the clan system. A
Vailima tartan was adopted for special occasions and Stevenson
encouraged them to think of the household as a family, to take interest
and pride in all its doings.

On Sunday evenings the entire household was assembled. A chapter of the
Samoan Bible was read and Samoan hymns sung. Then a prayer in English
written by Stevenson was read, concluding with the Lord's Prayer in
Samoan.

If the master had cause to be displeased with any one of them, they were
all summoned and reprimanded or fined.

His stories delighted them. They were never tired of looking at the
picture of Skerryvore Light and hearing about the rugged coasts of
Tusitala's native island and of his father and grandfather who built
lighthouses. The latter impressed them greatly, since building of any
kind in Samoa is considered a fine art. The deeds of General Gordon, the
Indian Mutiny, and Lucknow were likewise favorite tales when Tusitala
showed them a treasure he prized highly: a message written by General
Gordon from Khartoum. It was in Arabic on a small piece of
cigarette-paper which might be easily swallowed should the messenger be
captured. Stevenson always believed it to be the last message sent
before the great general's death.

They came to him for e