was strongly opposed, it had not been wholly without result. Twenty-one persons had found courage openly to profess themselves converts, one of these being the king’s brother. So there was good reason to hope that the old man would be allowed to die a natural death; and the chief anxiety of Mr Williams, who had succeeded Mr Hunt as missionary here, was to save the lives of the women. Having left the old king apparently pretty well, he was much startled on hearing next morning that he was dead, and that preparations were being made for his funeral. He hurried back to the house, to find the family in the very act of strangling two veiled figures. Each was surrounded by a company of women, all sitting on the ground; and on either side of each group a row of eight or ten strong men were hauling a white cord, which was passed round the neck of the victim. Too late to save these, he passed on to look at the dead chief, and to his astonishment found him still alive, though his chief wife was preparing him for the grave, by covering him with a coat of black powder, tying streamers of white native cloth round his arms and legs, a scarlet handkerchief on his head, armlets, and head ornament of small white cowries, a necklace of large whales’ teeth, with long curved points, and an immense train of new native cloth, arranged in loose folds at his feet. This done, a blast of trumpet-shells was blown by the priests, and the chief priest, in the name of the people, hailed Tuikilakila as king, saying, “The sun of one king has set, but our king yet lives.” It is the Fijian rendering of “Le roi est mort; vive le roi!” Seeing that all pleading for the life of the old chief must be without avail, Mr Williams had to content himself with praying that the two women already strangled might suffice; and to this the young chief agreed, adding that, but for his intercession, all the women present should have died. Those who had already been put to death had been duly decorated, their faces covered with vermilion, their bodies oiled, and adorned with garlands of leaves and flowers. They were then wrapped in mats, and carried to the sea-shore, where they were laid on either end of a canoe. For some reason unexplained, the king might not be carried out by a common doorway; so the side of his house was broken down, and he too was carried to the canoe, where his queen sat by him, fanning him to keep off the flies. She had asked, with well-assumed grief, why she too might not be strangled, but was soothed by being assured that there was no one present of sufficiently high rank to act as her executioner.