These men were such noted cannibals that all _bokola_ reserved for their special use were called by a Fijian word describing captured turtle, about to be deposited in the circular enclosures where they are kept till required—meaning that this capacious monster had room for all that came to him. His cannibal fork had also a distinctive name, descriptive of the enormous work done by so small a thing. In this country, where the precious imported whale’s tooth is the only ivory known, and where formerly there existed no animal to yield bone, human shin-bones were greatly prized to make sail-needles; so this man’s tribe must have been well provided! I do not think I have told you that at every cannibal feast there was served a certain vegetable,[46] which was considered as essential an adjunct to _bokola_ as mint-sauce is to lamb, or sage to goose. Its use, however, was prudential, as human flesh was found to be highly indigestible, and this herb acted as a corrective. It was therefore commonly grown in every village, to be ready when required. It is a pretty ride all the way from Na Vatu to Bali Bali, and we arrived here in time thoroughly to enjoy a second breakfast. The view from this point is a very unusual one, overlooking the salt-pans, which are artificially constructed shallow pools, in the midst of a wide stretch of dark mangrove-swamp. These are flooded at certain tides, and the evaporation yields a fair supply of salt. Half hidden in the mangrove is Na Vua Vua, the chief town of this district of Raki Raki, and in the distance lie the isles of Malaki and Nananu. After a short rest we rode up a very beautiful valley to see a hill crowned with a grand mass of rocks—Vatu Damu—which, as we approached, resembled Cyclopean fortifications. We climbed the hill and found a pretty village nestled at the base of the great rocks, and shaddock-trees loaded with blossom, which perfumed the air. Then we rode to another grand rock, Kasia Lili. I made a sketch of each, and then returned here. My host has most kindly given up his house to me, and has found quarters for himself with his “offisas,” as the people call the police. * * * * * _October 13._ Another day filled with impressions of beauty. Few bits of Scotland can compare with the mountain scenery of these isles. I only wish it were possible to make expeditions inland, and explore the dark ravines and corries which seam the great mountain-range of the Kauvandra, along the base of which we have been riding all day. I was out before daybreak, and went down the hill to have a near look at a true Kai Tholo house, which I had detected yesterday. The Kai Tholo, _i.e._, mountain people, build totally different houses from those on the coast: they are like beehives, with a roof so high pitched as to suggest a tiny hive on the top of the first.