"papalangi" (foreigner). The "Buli" agreed to accompany me to Namosi,
although his home was in another village. Continuing our journey,
we had hard work climbing over boulders, and along slippery ledges
overhanging the foaming river many feet below. Steep precipices rose on
each side of us, and the gorge grew more narrow as we proceeded. The
scenery was grand, and rather resembled the Yosemite Valley, but had
the additional attraction of a wealth of tropical foliage. Steep rocky
spires topped by misty clouds towered above us and little openings
between rocky walls revealed dark green lanes or vistas of tangled
tropical growth which the sun never reached. We met many natives,
who sat on their haunches when the "Buli" talked to them, and clapped
their hands as we passed. This was out of respect for the "Buli,"
who was an insignificant looking little bearded man and quite naked
except for a small "Sulu."

We soon arrived at Namosi. It is a large town situated between
two steep walls of rock, and was by far the prettiest place I had
seen in Fiji, and that is saying a good deal. The town is on both
banks of the Waiandina River, with large "ivi" and other beautiful
trees overhanging the water; brilliant coloured crotons, DRACAENAS,
and other fine plants imparted a wealth of colour to the scene,
and many of the grand old trees were heavily laden with ferns and
orchids. During many years' wanderings all the world over, I do not
think I have ever come across a more beautiful and ideal spot.

The "Buli" was greeted with cries of "m-m-ka-a" in shrill voices by the
women, for all the world like the caw of an old crow. I learned that
the "Buli" had not been here for some time, but I seemed to be the
chief object of interest, and was followed everywhere by an admiring
and curious crowd of dark brown, shiny boys and girls, the former just