As we stood by that grave in the quiet starlight, with scarcely a sound from the peaceful village to disturb the stillness of night, we could not but think of the strange change that has been wrought in so short a time. It was in 1835 that these two pioneers landed at Lakemba, far away at the eastern extremity of the group. Two years later, the King of Somo Somo (who like the present ruler was called Tui Thakow) came to Lakemba with his two sons and several hundred followers. When he saw the knives and hatchets, kettles and pots, which the Lakembans had received as barter for food and work, he immediately coveted possession of the goose which laid such golden eggs, so he urged the mission to come at once and settle at Somo Somo, promising every sort of advantage—that all the children should attend school, and that he and his people would give heed to what was taught. The invitation was of course accepted, though not without qualms, the people of Somo Somo being so noted for their excess in every conceivable form of crime, that their name was uttered with dread and even horror throughout the group. Upwards of a year elapsed ere it was possible to comply with the king’s request, as it was necessary to obtain further supplies of men and stores from England. (We do not find this rapid work even now, and it was a far more difficult matter in those days.) When, in the face of many difficulties, Mr Hunt and Mr Lyth arrived with their families at Somo Somo, hoping for the promised welcome, they found that, beyond being allowed the use of a large empty house belonging to the old king, their presence was utterly ignored. They had scarcely landed when news came that the king’s youngest son, Ra Mbithi, had been lost at sea; or rather, that his canoe had drifted to the isle of Ngau, where, as a matter of course, he was captured and eaten. Great was the lamentation made for him, and utterly vain were the prayers of the new-comers that the women doomed to death, according to custom, might be spared. Sixteen women were forthwith strangled, and their bodies buried close to the door of the great house in which the strangers were lodged. Then in quick succession they were compelled to witness scenes of cruelty and degradation too deep for words. Deeds of darkest abomination were the familiar sights of everyday life, and the people of Somo Somo proved themselves fully entitled to the character they bore throughout the group, of being the vilest of the vile. Cannibal feasts, attended by wildest orgies, were of constant occurrence, the bodies being cooked in ovens close to the house in which Mr Hunt and Mr Lyth had their quarters; and so great was the offence they gave by closing the doors to try and shut out the revolting scenes, that their own lives were endangered, and the king’s son, Tuikilakila, came up furiously, club in hand, threatening to kill Mr Lyth, who had ventured on remonstrance.