“I am not afraid to die. Life is a curse and burden. The white men spoiled my head. If there is a hope of dying, let me go quickly and die!” As he crossed the door, a ball crashed through him, and he fell dead. We got the mother and her children away to the Mission House; and next morning they buried the remains of poor Mungaw under the floor of his own hut, and enclosed the whole place with a fence. It was a sorrowful close to so noble a career. I shed many a tear that I ever took him to Australia. What will God have to say to those white fiends who poisoned and maddened poor dear Mungaw? After a while the good Queen Litsi was happily married again. She became possessed with a great desire to go as a Missionary to the people and tribe of Nasi, the very man who had murdered her husband. She used to say,— “Is there no Missionary to go and teach Nasi’s people? I weep and pray for them, that they too may come to know and love Jesus.” I answered,—“Litsi, if I had only wept and prayed for you, but stayed at home in Scotland, would that have brought you to know and love Jesus as you do?” “Certainly not,” she replied. “Now then,” I proceeded, “would it not please Jesus and be a grand and holy revenge, if you, the Christians of Aniwa, could carry the Gospel to the very people whose Chief murdered Mungaw?” The idea took possession of her soul. She was never wearied talking and praying over it. When at length a Missionary was got for Nasi’s people, Litsi and her new husband placed themselves at the head of a band of six or eight Aniwan Christians, and planted themselves there to open up the way and assist as Native Teachers the Missionary and his wife. There she and they have laboured ever since. They are “strong” for the Worship. Her son is being trained up by his cousin, an Elder of the Church, to be “the good Chief of Aniwa”; so she calls him in her prayers, as she cries on God to bless and watch over him, while she is serving the Lord in the Mission field. Many years have now passed; and when lately I visited that part of Tanna, Litsi ran to me, clasped my hand, kissed it with many sobs, and cried,— “O my father! God has blessed me to see you again. Is my mother, your dear wife, well? And your children, my brothers and sisters? My love to them all! O my heart clings to you!” We had sweet conversation, and then she said more calmly,— “My days here are hard. I might be happy and wealthy as Queen on Aniwa. But the Heathen here are beginning to listen. The Missi sees them coming nearer to Jesus. And oh, what a reward when we shall hear them sing and pray to our dear Saviour! The hope of that makes me strong for anything.”