“About the only time I was thankful to see him come was after he had been tracking John’s footsteps closer than I liked. I was watching him from our front verandah as he went off to his boat, the two lads a little before, when Mungaw suddenly appeared close behind him—axe in hand. I could see a long way, and when John stooped to examine a bush or fern Mungaw stopped too, always keeping right at his back. Visions of the murdered Gordons rose vividly before me, and I felt distracted. I knew that John and the boys were on their guard, and plenty of Natives were about, but a blow could be so easily struck! I went in-doors and told my God and then our Aneityumese Teacher (we showed as little fear as possible before our Natives), so that if he thought there was real danger he would go to him. He looked anxious and questioned me minutely, but went on quietly with his work, and I tried to follow his example; but my feet _would_ carry me to the verandah, till the welcome sight of that usually dreaded form, tossing his axe in the air and catching it by the handle, allayed all fears, for I knew that had he done any harm he would have rushed into hiding. “His last days were spent pulling up the people’s bananas and sugar-cane, destroying what he could not devour. He took our boys’ blankets and boxes, and walked off with the lookingglass from the girls’ house. Just the Sunday morning before he was shot he turned out all the girls’ boxes while we were at breakfast, and pranced up and down our front verandah. We had just finished our own Family Worship, and John was going off for a little quiet to his Study, when we heard the Church bell being furiously rung a full hour before the time! The Natives already gathered stood staring at each other in consternation, others hurried forward, thinking they were late, and the usual bell-ringer came panting to know why the work was so unceremoniously taken out of his hands! The more they begged Mungaw to leave off the quicker he rang, till John ran out and ordered him to stop instantly, which he did. “He did not trouble us another Sunday, poor fellow, but he gave me two or three thorough frights through the week, once surprising me suddenly on the verandah, when mounted on a high box, and oil-painting the woodwork of the house. On the following Saturday morning, as we were in the garden, Litsi passed the fence and I ran to her. She said, ‘When will the boat be ready, Missi?’ I told her that there was just a little paint to finish to-day, and it would sail on Monday, so she would have only two days more of endurance. She jumped and clapped her hands, saying, ‘My heart sings, for he’s sure to go!’