Of course all the native constabulary were seized; but, thanks to the devoted care of Lieutenant Olive, late of the Royal Marines, comparatively few died. He turned Nasova into a great hospital, and distributed his 150 patients all over it, appointing those who were less ill guards over the very sick, to prevent their yielding to the fatal impulse to rush into the cool blue sea, which lay so temptingly at their very door. By dint of indefatigable exertions, and a generosity that spared not the utmost expenditure of his private means on comforts, and indeed necessaries, for his sick men, he had the unspeakable satisfaction of saving all but ten, and these fell victims to their own craving for the cool waters. They managed to escape from their guards, and lay down in the sea, thus sealing their own doom. All the details that come from every isle are alike harrowing. Whole towns are deserted, every house closed. The dead have been buried in their own houses, and these having fallen, the raised foundation on which every Fijian house is built has now become a platform on which lie the graves of the whole family, marked by the red leaves of dracæna or other plants. Perhaps one wretched orphan alone survives. The coast towns seem to have suffered more severely than those in the mountains, owing to the fact of their being generally built in mangrove-swamps, or some other morass, as being better concealed and more easily defended in the intertribal wars which have hitherto been of ceaseless occurrence. We are told of some teachers who fled from their villages, but were overtaken by the disease and died. The majority acted as noble examples to their flocks, but many died at their posts; indeed one district alone has lost _ninety_, and the district next to it _forty_, native ministers and teachers, all carefully trained men,—a loss not to be quickly replaced. Of the 40,000 who are computed to have perished, 35,000 were personally known to the Wesleyan teachers as being either professedly Christians or under instruction. It appears that the measles, which we consider such a simple and infantile complaint, invariably assumes a character more like the plague when first introduced in one of these South Sea isles. In 1860 it was unfortunately taken to the Mare Loyalty group, and one-fifth of the population died. The Dido unfortunately put three persons ashore on Norfolk Island, on her way to Fiji; they also carried the measles, which spread to the whole community. Afterwards she landed some time-expired labourers at the Isle Malicolo, and there too, it is reported that many have died.