The only place where we came in for any interest rather out of the humdrum ordinary of Fijian villages was the little island of Batique, where it had been impossible to send word of the coming of the great ecclesiastical powers; and as there is no anchorage, and dangerous reefs, the vessel had to beat about outside all the time we were there. So we only stayed one night, and on arriving found the whole town in a fever of excitement (a town is a small moated village), because the young women of Levuka had come over by appointment to bring a great present of English cloth to the chief, and to the women of Batique. Of course they expected mats, and painted cloth, and cocoa-nut oil in return; so all the Batique girls had been working for ages. We arrived just as the presentation of goods was about to be made. All the people assembled in the market-place—a square, overshadowed by great trees on raised banks—and then every woman brought the mat she had made, rolled up so as to show its bright edge of worsted (modern substitute for the parrots’ feathers of olden days). There were about 200 mats, and a good deal of fine painted cloth. After whales’ teeth had been duly presented to the chief, the presents were made, and much feasting ensued. It was a singularly inopportune time for the mission work; but as it had to be then or not at all, Mr Langham proceeded to hold service in the big square, and when that was over, had his school examination by moonlight and torchlight. The scene was picturesque, though the scholars had no time to make their usual wreaths and garlands. One pretty feature of such gatherings as these is, that at the close of the ceremony all come and lay their (superfluous) garments of native cloth and necklaces at the feet of the principal persons present. I only mean pretty theoretically—for of course the wearers look stripped and shabby after this, but the followers of the great men assume the garments thus laid down. It was ten o’clock before we left the square and betook us to our quarters in the little church, at either end of which we had hung up our curtains. Then we found there was a marriage to celebrate, so Mr L. went on with that in the middle of the church, while his wife and I slept the sleep of the weary—slept for a little while, soon to be awakened by the shouts and measured hand-clapping (like low thunder) of the crowd, who had again assembled in the market-place for a grand _méké_—dancing and singing—which went on the livelong night. At last it became so boisterous I thought I must go down and see the fun; so crept near under the shadow of the great plantain-leaves—but soon an envious gleam of moonlight revealed my presence, which caused some perturbation. I fancied I was less welcome than usual. The dancing I saw was commonplace, and not pretty, so I soon went back to bed. This was the end of my adventures.