Baron von Hügel returned from the mainland this morning just as we came back from the goat-milking. He has collected some new curiosities, and gave me a funny old cannibal fork. He returns to Nasova to-day, and takes this letter to the mail. He is full of the loveliness of various places he has seen, and says I must manage to go and do some sketching. But how? That is the difficulty. Mrs Leefe, who has never yet seen anything, even within a few miles of this place, says she would delight in going if only it could be managed, but she does not see how she can be spared from her many home-cares; and it is equally difficult for either Mr Leefe or Harry to get away. And you know I never dream of going anywhere alone; besides, Mr Leefe has sold his good boat, and now has only a very small one. So really I do not see how it can be managed, though it is most tantalising. However, something may develop. CHAPTER XXII. THE POTTERY DISTRICTS OF VITI LEVU—A CANNIBAL’S REGISTER—A NIGHT IN A CORN-SHED—FUNERAL OF RATU TAIVITA. RATU PHILIMONE’S HOUSE, NA VATU (THE ROCK), RAKI RAKI, _October 10_. The difficulties have been overcome, and here I am on the mainland of beautiful Viti Levu. This is a delightful place to which Mr Leefe brought me about a week ago. Mrs Leefe provided us with a large basketful of provisions—newly-baked bread, and other good things; and on arriving here, we were most hospitably welcomed by the kindly native minister, Ratu Philimone, and his handsome pleasant wife Henrietta. The title Ratu marks the man who bears it as being of good birth; and this couple and their pretty children are of a very superior sort. Their house has quite a nice inner room, which they insisted on giving up to me, so I am really most comfortable here. Mr Leefe was only able to stay one whole day, long enough to take me over a good deal of the neighbourhood. Then as its rare beauty proved more and more fascinating on further acquaintance, he left me here in the hospitable care of Ratu Philimone, not, however, till he had also placed me in the charge of the police! in the person of Mr Jones, the officer of this district, who is most kind, and does his utmost to further all my wishes. So also does his friend and neighbour Mr Shinnock, who sends me a bottle of milk every morning, and one day a little pig’s leg: and now I hear that he has killed a kid for my especial benefit. He has also lent me his horse Sweep, a steady old fellow, and able to canter, though not much used to carrying a lady. I find I have left the girths of my side-saddle at Nasova, but Mr Jones most kindly lends me his, which are of leather, and he himself now uses a rope. He has a wooden saddle with goat-skin-cover. Truly did Captain Martin, our worthy skipper, remark that this is the country for makeshifts!