Koiari visit the coast they go in for begging largely, and they generally get what they ask, as the Motu people are very much afraid of their spiritual power, they being thought to hold power over the sun, wind, and rain, and manufacturing or withholding the latter at will.  When the Motu people hear that Koiarians are coming, they hide their valuables.  All the young swells here have head-dresses of dogs’ teeth, got from the seaside natives.  At Eikiri, they told us they got theirs by killing and stealing.  We can truly say we are under arms in this house—­sixty-two spears overhead, four shields on walls, and two stone clubs keeping watch at the door.  A Makipili woman has been telling Kena how she happens to be here.  Formerly her people and these were at enmity.  Makipili sought peace, but had no pig.  She was selected to supply want of pig, and taken with food.  When she grew up, the old man (not her husband) insisted on her living with him.

8_th_.—­We had six hours’ good walking, and are now encamped under the shade of Vetura.  The country from Epakari to here is very ridgy, and, after leaving the ridges of Epakari, very barren.  Coming suddenly on a large party of men, women, and children returning from a dance, they were so frightened when we called out, Naimo! that they set off, kits, spears, and drums, and no fine words would bring them back.  We have seven natives with us; the old chief says he must see us safe to Keninumu.  We passed a fine village—­Umiakurape—­on a ridge west of Karikatana; the chiefs name is Vaniakoeta.  It would make a splendid station.  The high ridge at the back of Epakari, along which we came, is 1000 feet high, and from it we saw Fisherman’s Island, Redscar Bay, Bootless Inlet, and the whole coast east to Round Head.

9_th_.—­Arrived at Keninumu at half-past ten a.m.  Found all well.  The natives are constantly on the look-out for the Tabori attack on Munikahila.  We hear the Munikahila natives have been stealing from Goldie.

14_th_.—­Since our return we have been house-building, but are getting on very slowly.  I fear we are six weeks too late for the Kupele district, and shall have to leave it for another season.  It would be awkward to get in and not get back until the end of the wet season.  I find our friend the chief, Poroko, has had two wives; one he killed lately.  She was in the plantation, and some young fellows coming along, she sat down with them to have a smoke and get the news; Poroko heard of it, and on her coming home in the evening he killed her.  A woman at Favelle said, “Oh, the Koiari man thinks nothing of killing his wife.”  The word for “sneeze” in Koiari is akiso.  When they are leaving for a journey or going for the night they call out kiso, and often from their houses they shout their good-night to us, kiso.  There is a woman in deep mourning for her daughter.  She has hanging round her neck all the ornaments once the property of the deceased, and along with them the jawbone.  The headless body she visits occasionally, and rubs herself all over with the juice from it!