I gave orders to keep a good look-out on Someri, who was carrying a bundle, and he was given into Maka’s care.  Our young friend was very quiet, and tried skulking behind and moving on fast ahead.  When crossing a ridge about three miles from the village, I was leading, when we heard Maka calling for Someri.  Rua at once returned, and found the bird had flown, leaving the bundle, but carrying with him the camp tomahawk, which Maka had foolishly let him have to cut a stick with.  It would be folly to return to get the tomahawk, so we kept south and west for some distance, when we came to a deserted village; then we turned west.  We crossed the Laroki several times before we came into the open country; at our last crossing we met a company of natives, all armed, on watch for Makapili natives, who were expected to attack them.  They took our bundles, and led us to a small village, where we met some of our Marivaeanumu friends, who led us to their village and to our old house.  A young child called Maka was presented for presents, the father telling Maka he called the child after him, because he was his friend when we were here last.  We have now the open country before us, and expect no trouble in getting along.  The natives are all unsettled at present, and every man we meet is armed.  I can see the country better to-day than when here last week.  Marivaeanumu is on a rise near the hills of Eikiri and north-north-west from Sogeri.  The latter district is in a valley between the Owen Stanley Range and Mount Nisbet, to the south-west of it.  Eribagu would make a good station for the Sogeri district.  This place would be a suitable station being at the head of the plain that reaches away to the Astrolabe on the one side, and up to Vetura and Uakinumu on the other, stretching east by Mount Nisbet, and away east and south, by the country at the back of Mapakapa.  The Laroki rises in the Owen Stanley Range, and is the drain for the Sogeri district and all the plain; it is very circuitous, and near here very deep and slow, flowing west.

29_th_.—­For nearly six hours we have been travelling with our bags, and I can honestly say I feel tired.  We are now at a new village—­the houses just going up—­on the top of the high green hill in front of Munikahila, overlooking the Kupa Moumiri valley.  The village is named Keninumu, and consists of four houses at present, two on high trees and two on high rocks.  We have pitched our tent close by, and intend resting until Monday, when we hope to start for the plain—­a very fine country, but no natives.  This part of the plain is dry and barren, with stunted gum-trees.  A party met us when near the village, and a woman with a child on her shoulder, I suppose seeing me look tired, insisted on my giving her my bag.  I looked at the child, and wondered how she was going to manage, but that was soon arranged; she made the child sit on her left shoulder, holding her by the hair; then she took my bundle, and away she went.  Some young men have come in from one of the districts we wish to visit, and I hope to keep them until we leave; it will be a help and of great value as an introduction at this time of trouble.  We are 1440 feet above sea-level.