destroyed the crops of some Malietoa neighbours. The
President went there the other day and landed alone on the
island, which (to give him his due) was plucky. Moreover, he
succeeded in persuading the folks to come up and be judged on
a particular day in Apia. That day they did not come; but
did come the next, and, to their vast surprise, were given
six months' imprisonment and clapped in gaol. Those who had
accompanied them cried to them on the streets as they were
marched to prison, 'Shall we rescue you?' The condemned,
marching in the hands of thirty men with loaded rifles, cried
out 'No'! And the trick was done. But it was ardently
believed a rescue would be attempted; the gaol was laid about
with armed men day and night; but there was some question of
their loyalty, and the commandant of the forces, a very nice
young beardless Swede, became nervous, and conceived a plan.
How if he should put dynamite under the gaol, and in case of
an attempted rescue blow up prison and all? He went to the
President, who agreed; he went to the American man-of-war for
the dynamite and machine, was refused, and got it at last
from the Wreckers. The thing began to leak out, and there
arose a muttering in town. People had no fancy for amateur
explosions, for one thing. For another, it did not clearly
appear that it was legal; the men had been condemned to six
months' prison, which they were peaceably undergoing; they
had not been condemned to death. And lastly, it seemed a
somewhat advanced example of civilisation to set before
barbarians. The mutter in short became a storm, and
yesterday, while I was down, a cutter was chartered, and the
prisoners were suddenly banished to the Tokelaus. Who has
changed the sentence? We are going to stir in the dynamite