[A Hula dandy:  175.jpg]

3_rd_.—­Last night I slept lightly, with Flora on watch, and Bob easily aroused.  After midnight he kept watch.  We placed the lights beyond tents on each side, and so arranged that the light would strike on any native nearing camp.  About two a.m.  Lavao’s wife No. 2 came up with her grandchild, goods, and chattels for safety.  The Loloans were coming.  All right; all ready.  Very loud, noisy talking in village.  At four, we called out for Kone, who came up telling us that we should be first disposed of, then Delena.  I went to the village, and saw the old friendly chief from Lavao.  I told him any Loloan coming over the brow of the hill with weapons we should consider as coming to fight, and we were ready.  At five, women and children crowded into camp, with all their belongings, and asked for protection.  Certainly; we shall do what we can for them.  Men are running all about, planting arms in convenient places in the bush.  We are told to keep a good look-out—­and that we shall.  It is now daylight, so we do not care much.  The fight has begun in the village.  Some Loloans, running after Delena natives, rush uphill; we warn them back, and they retire.  There is a loud shout for us to go to the village and fight.  I leave Bob with guns and cartridges to keep watch over camp.  I have more confidence in the skirmish unarmed, and have no wish for the savages to think I have come to fight.  I shout out Maino, and soon there is a hush in the terrible storm.  I am allowed to walk through the village, disarm one or two, and, on my return to our friend Kone’s end of the village, he whispers to me, “There is Arua,” understanding him to mean the chief, or vata tauna (sorcerer).  I recognize in him the man introduced to me on a former visit, and who in wrath cleared out from my presence.  Now might be his time to pay me out.  I take his weapons from him, link him on to me, and walk him up the hill.  I speak kindly to him, show him flag, and tell him we are maino, and warn him that his people must on no account ascend the hill.  All right, he will stop the fighting.  I sit down to write this, when again they rush up for me, saying Kone was to be killed.  Leaving Bob with arms in charge, I go down to the village, and without my hat.  More canoes have arrived.  What a crowd of painted fiends!  I get surrounded, and have no way of escape.  Sticks and spears rattle round.  I get a knock on the head, and a piece of stick falls on my hand.  My old Lavao friend gets hold of me and walks me to outskirt.  Arua and Lauma of Lolo assure me they will not ascend the hill, and we had better not interfere with them.  “Right, friend; but you must stop, and on no account injure my friend Kone.”  It would frighten them were we to go armed to the village; but then we dare not stay here twenty-four hours after.  I can do more for the natives unarmed.  I am glad I am able to mix with both parties; it shows