“We cannot; we must go on.”

“If you go on you will be devoured by the boroma badababa (great pig).”

I insisted upon going on; they called to those in the village, and on being answered we again went on for about half a mile, when every bundle was put down and a halt called, and again we had to listen to the unintelligible story of the wild animal or animals that would destroy us.  We sat down and tried to get them to see as we did, that a house was necessary for our comfort.  A thunderstorm was working up, and soon the rain would be down on us—­let us be off for the village.  They had a long confab with those in the village on the ridge, which, when ended, seemed favourable; and so up the steep side of the ridge we went.  When halfway up they halted, and wanted us to camp under the shelter of a great rock.  Seeing some young men with bundles rounding the rock, I joined myself to them, and away we went, followed by the others to the village.  Under the first house in the village sat a man, with a large pig standing by him, which he was clapping and scratching, as if to keep it quiet; and as we went along we saw great pigs under the houses.  Certainly they were savage-looking pigs.  We were given an open house, and the rain was coming on.  I was ascending, when it became necessary to spring from a pig that was after me.  Is this Goldie’s big beast the natives told him of?  This is a fine country.  We passed through large plantations of yams, taro, sugar-cane, and bananas.  During the evening we had crowds of men and lads—­no women or children—­to see us.  Some are quite light copper-coloured, others are very dark; nearly all are dressed with cassowary feathers; many with ruffs round their necks made from these feathers.  There were none very tall, but all seem well-built men, with good muscle.  They have the same calabashes and chunam sticks for betel-chewing as at Kerepunu.  Some chunam sticks made from cassowary bones are well carved.  They are a very noisy lot; one would think they were trying to see who could speak the loudest.  They tell us it is impossible to cross to the other side, as further inland the ridge ends—­and there is nothing but bare broken rook—­inaccessible all round.  The majority of the men are bearded and moustached, and have cassowary feathers like a pad behind, on which they sit.  They dress with a string.  The demand for salt is very great; grains are picked up, and friends are supplied with a few grains from what they have got for taro.  The name of the place is Kenagagara, 1810 feet above the sea-level, E.N.E. from Uakinumu.