MAY 3RD.


Well, we did get off by about 5.30, or, by'r lady! quarter of
six: myself on Donald, the huge grey cart-horse, with a ship-
bag across my saddle bow, Fanny on Musu and Belle on Jack.
We were all feeling pretty tired and sick, and I looked like
heaven knows what on the cart horse: 'death on the pale
horse,' I suggested - and young Hunt the missionary, who met
me to-day on the same charger, squinted up at my perch and
remarked, 'There's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft.'
The boat was ready and we set off down the lagoon about
seven, four oars, and Talolo, my cook, steering.


MAY 9TH (MONDAY ANYWAY).


And see what good resolutions came to! Here is all this time
past, and no speed made. Well, we got to Malie and were
received with the most friendly consideration by the rebel
chief. Belle and Fanny were obviously thought to be my two
wives; they were served their kava together, as were Mataafa
and myself. Talolo utterly broke down as interpreter; long
speeches were made to me by Mataafa and his orators, of which
he could make nothing but they were 'very much surprised' -
his way of pronouncing obliged - and as he could understand
nothing that fell from me except the same form of words, the
dialogue languished and all business had to be laid aside.