All the relations came to the shore to weep over the emigrants starting for the Bau Training Institution—a very short day’s sail by canoe. They all blubbered freely (great big men), and smelt one another all over! Up to this time we had been coasting all about the isles of Koro, Ngau, Nairai, and Batique—the two former large and very beautiful, reminding me much of Ceylon. The mission ship, the Jubilee, took us from isle to isle, and then we coasted round from village to village in a canoe. As I have previously told you, each island is surrounded by an outer ring of coral-reef, so there is invariably smooth water right round the island where you can row or sail in perfect comfort. Of course it is very dangerous for the boats, as coral crops up in all manner of unexpected patches; and at low tide it is impossible in some places to get along. But at high tide you can always do so; and right round the coast there are picturesque villages at intervals of four or five miles, so we halted perhaps two nights at all the chief points—having previously sent word to the three or four nearest towns to assemble there for church service, school examinations, marriages, and baptisms. Of course there is apt to be a certain sameness in these; but as I was not bound to attend them, I often took advantage of the people being all occupied to go off for a quiet bathe or sketch. Many of the open-air services were most picturesque, being held under the great trees—sometimes by torchlight; and the school-gatherings are very pretty sights—the dresses being so fanciful. A large proportion of the scholars read and write well, and are getting on wonderfully with arithmetic,—especially in one village, where a poor leper, who in early life was trained at the Mission Institute, now employs himself as amateur assistant to the teacher. I have bought two very nice pieces of native cloth, which acted as christening-robes to two juveniles; the font was a cocoa-nut shell. There is generally a lovely path running right round every island, close to the sea-shore, under shadow of large trees with grand foliage, but of names unknown to you. We spent May-day at a town called Nawaikama—the Burnt Waters,—because of the hot springs. These are built in artificially, with a low wall, so as to confine them and form a warm pool. A beautiful cool stream divides just above the springs, and flows right round them; so when you have sat in the pool till you are parboiled (and, by the way, it is a very odd sensation to feel the hot water gushing up), you can take a plunge, or at least lie down and cool in the cold fresh stream close by. It is a pleasant bath-room, with tall palms for a canopy. [Illustration: HOT SPRINGS, ISLE NGAU. _p. 180._]