they mean us no harm, and speaks well for the future.  No one was killed, but several were severely wounded, and a few houses destroyed.  They have made peace at last, and I have had a meeting in the village with all; the Loloans have promised to be quiet.  I told them we could not stay if they were to be constantly threatening.  In the afternoon the chiefs came up, and I promised to visit them all.  My head aches a little.  Had I been killed, I alone should have been to blame, and not the natives.  The Delena natives say:  “Well, Tamate, had you not been here, many of us would have been killed, and the remainder gone to Naara, never to return.”  There is some pleasure in being of a little use even to savages.

The next Sunday we had a splendid service.  All the young fellows dressed for it by painting their faces.  It was amusing and interesting to hear them interpret all I said from Motuan into Loloan; and when I attempted to use a Lolo word, they corrected me if I wrongly pronounced or misplaced it.  After service we had all the children and young men to school.  A goodly number have got a pretty fair hold of letters.  Some would beat native cloth, and Kone grew very angry, and, because they would not listen to him, threatened to pull up his recently buried child.  I sent word that he must on no account do that, and must say no more to the men beating cloth; that by-and-by the people will become enlightened, and then they will understand the Sabbath.  Poor Kone’s idea is that now and at once they should understand.

On June 6th, I once more left Delena to proceed to Maiva, and, although a heavy sea was running at the time, landed safely about eleven a.m. at Miria’s village, on the Maiva coast.  I saw a number of people with karevas (long fighting sticks), and wondered what was the matter.  I said to my old friend Rua, who met me on the beach, “Are you going to fight?” “No, no; it is all right now.”  I gave him a large axe for Meauri and party to cut wood for a house at their village.  Meauri and a number of followers soon made their appearance:  it seemed strange that they should have come down so soon.  Miria, the chief, being away cutting wood, went to Meauri’s village, passing through several seaside villages.  We selected a new position for the house, at the back of a large temple; gave them tobacco and red cloth, they promising gladly to have wood cut against my next return.  Sitting on the platform, Rua turned to me and asked, “Tamate, who is your real Maiva friend?” Fancying there was trouble, I replied, “Oa Maoni, who sleeps in that house in death, was my friend:  Meauri, Rua, Paru, and Aua are now my friends.”  “I thought so, and Miria has no business to build a house for you.  Before we saw the boat we were down on the beach at Miria’s village to begin a quarrel; we saw you were coming, and we waited for you.”  “But I want a house on the coast as well as inland; Miria’s village is small and too exposed,