feet, and, after much labor, got one wet knot untangled, the horses
meanwhile smelling and nosing about the top of his head. He said he
expected at every moment to have it bitten off, for, he argued, if the
horses found a stable edible, in these outlandish parts, they might
easily conceive the idea of sampling the hostler.... I am interrupted
at this moment by Simile at the door to ask a question. I wish I could
take a photograph as he stands at the door, with the steady eyes of a
capable man of affairs, but the dress of a houri; about his loins he
has twisted a piece of white cotton; a broad garland of drooping ferns
passes over his forehead, crosses at the back of his head, and coming
forward round his neck is fastened in a knot of greenery on his
breast. He is rather a plain young man, but he looks really lovely
just now, and the incongruous expression of his eyes heightens the
effect.

[Footnote 44: The stable was probably made of pandanus
leaves, like the native houses.]

"Yesterday we had a terrific storm, quite alarming to people living in
such a vulnerable abode. Even when the weather is fair the house
shakes as though it would fall if any one comes upstairs rapidly, and
the slight iron roof is entirely open at the eaves to catch any wind
that blows. We could not keep a lamp burning, and the lantern kept for
such emergencies having been broken by Paul, we were in semi-darkness.
Late in the afternoon a cloud enveloped us so that we could see no
farther than in a London fog. From that time the gale increased,
lashing the branches of the trees together, and sometimes twisting
their trunks and throwing them to the ground. We could see the rain
through the windows driving in layers, one sheet above another.
Occasionally there was an ominous thrashing on the iron roof as
though the great hardwood tree alongside of the house meant to do us
an injury. Water poured in under our ill-fitting doors, the matches
were too damp to light, and the general discomfort and sloppiness gave
one quite the feeling of being at sea. I wished we might reef in some
of our green tree sails, which reminded me of Ah Fu's terror of the
land and longing to be at sea in bad weather. Simile and his boys are
building or, rather, excavating, a hurricane refuge. I went to see it
yesterday and found it a big mudhole with immense boulders heaving up
from the bottom. I advised the instant digging of a ditch unless they
w