Well now, to tell you as far as I can in detail. You know that soon after annexation, when the mountain tribes were only half inclined to accept English rule, and still less friendly to the _lotu_ (Christianity), the isles were swept by the terrible scourge of measles, which they assumed to be a judgment from their insulted gods. They therefore “threw off the cloth,” which is a formula for expressing that, by returning to total nakedness, they utterly defy the _matanitu_ or Government, and the _lotu_: they also allowed their hair to grow to the fullest-sized mop; and having thus resumed the part of heathen warriors or _tevoro_—_i.e._, devils—they proceeded, on April 12, 1876, to attack and burn the Christian villages of Nandi and Nandronga, and ate sundry women. They also attacked several Christian villages on the banks of the Singatoko river; but here the marauders were repulsed, and their own villages burned. They then attacked a village in the mountains, the people of which were Christians, and had supplied food to the Government forces. The villagers, old men, women, and children, took refuge in a cave, where the cannibals soon followed, guarding the entrances, and firing on them at intervals during the night. In the morning a party of friendly natives and police (or, as the people still call them, _sotiers_—_i.e._, soldiers) came to the rescue, and routed the _tevoro_. Sir Arthur was from the beginning anxious to avoid anything like a collision between white men and brown, and was therefore determined, if possible, to treat this disturbance as a police question, without requiring any aid from English troops. He was confident, moreover, that with the assistance of friendly chiefs, the matter could be satisfactorily settled, and that, too, at very small cost, before troops could even arrive from the colonies or elsewhere; so he resolved to dispense with all red tape—an article which only appeared on the scene once, and that in a rarely useful capacity, when Mr Maudslay, sorely puzzled how the Governor’s body-guard could carry their ammunition, being clad in short kilts, with neither pockets nor belts, instructed them how to make belts with bits of canvas, sewed with red tape, which was happily found in the Governor’s despatch-box. That was on a special occasion, when Sir Arthur (determined to see everything for himself) insisted on visiting the mountains in person, accompanied by Mr Maudslay. Before starting on a march of some danger, it occurred to Mr Maudslay to examine the arms of the guard. They consisted of most rotten old muskets. He says he carefully avoided firing one himself, but happily no accident occurred in testing them.