moving brown shadows into the sun-flecked depths of the glade as we
approached.

We were met beneath a giant banian-tree by the chief, who greeted us
with simple dignity and led us at once to his house. The most
pretentious in the village, it consisted of two rooms, built of
redwood boards from California, white-washed, clean, and bare,
opening through wide doors upon the broad _paepae_. This house, the
chief insisted, was to be my home while I remained his guest in
Vait-hua. My polite protestations he waved away with a courtly
gesture and an obdurate smile. I was an American, and his guest.

My visit was obviously a great event in the eyes of Mrs. Seventh Man
Who Is So Angry He Wallows In The Mire. A laughing Juno of thirty
years, large and rounded as a breadfruit-tree, more than six feet in
height, with a mass of blue-black hair and teeth that flashed white
as a fresh-opened cocoanut, she rose from her mat on the _paepae_
and rubbed my nose ceremoniously with hers. Clothed in a necklace of
false pearls and a brilliantly scarlet loincloth, she was truly a
barbaric figure, yet in her eye I beheld that instant preoccupation
with household matters that greets the unexpected guest the world
over.

While the chief and I reclined upon mats and Exploding Eggs sat
vigilant at my side, she vanished into the house, and shortly
returned to set before us a bowl of _popoi_ and several cocoanuts.
These we ate while Neo discoursed sadly upon the evil times that had
befallen his reign.

"Me very busy when prenty ship come," he mourned. "Me fix for wood;