A wild storm beat up in the night, and we were thankful to be on land. The country round is bleak and barren; but heavy rain-clouds and mists glorified the very shapeless ranges of hills, and suggested parts of Scotland. In the morning we called on the chief, Tui Mbua, a middle-aged man, with a pleasant-looking wife. Not long ago his favourite son committed suicide, in his rage at finding his father’s laws enforced against some of his peccadilloes, as if he had been a _kai-see_ (_i.e._, of low birth). Such very great laxity is allowed to chiefs by the feudal system (which always has prevailed in these isles, and is likely in a great measure to be continued), that it really must be difficult for a man always to stop at the exact point where a chief’s right becomes wrong. There is a system in force called _lala_, by which a chief may claim from his people whatever service or property is required for any public work affecting the good and honour of the tribe. This is considered right and proper, and his commands are willingly obeyed. But the system is liable to great abuse, being constantly called into action merely to gratify some whim or personal pleasure of a chief—as, for instance, when he covets some expensive article, and his people have to raise the payment. This abuse is called _vaka saurara_—_i.e._, “taking by force,” and is simply an oppressive form of levying black-mail. A common instance of the way in which this is done is when a chief (or more probably his son) starts on a journey with a party of his retainers, perhaps several canoe-loads of people (in former days they would all have been armed men). Perhaps they are going to some great feast (a _solevu_ or exchange of property), to which they must carry some offerings, expecting to receive a good exchange, each district bringing its own produce. They probably start literally empty-handed; but at every village where they halt, they demand not only food but gifts, and a Fijian thinks it shameful to refuse to give anything for which he is asked. So these rolling stones disprove the old proverb, for they gather as they go, and reach the _solevu_ well provided—their progress along the coast being marked by every manner of evil; for they regard neither rights of property nor domestic ties, but are simply a curse to the quiet hard-working villagers. They have only to see and covet any man’s goods, and straightway appropriate them.