The Aniwans were not so violently dishonourable as the Tannese. But they had the knack of asking in a rather menacing manner whatever they coveted; and the tomahawk was sometimes swung to enforce an appeal. For losses and annoyance, we had of course no redress. But we tried to keep things well out of their way, knowing that the opportunity there, as elsewhere, sometimes develops the thief. We strove to get along quietly and kindly, in the hope that when we knew their language, and could teach them the principles of Jesus, they would be saved, and life and property would be secure. But the rumour of the _Curaçoa’s_ visit and her punishment of murder and robbery did more, by God’s blessing, to protect us during those Heathen days than all other influences combined. The savage Cannibal was heard to whisper to his bloodthirsty mates, “not to murder or to steal, for the Man-of-war that punished Tanna would blow up their little Island!” Sorrowful experience on Tanna had taught us to seek the site for our Aniwan house on the highest ground, and away from the malarial swamps near the shore. There was one charming mound, covered with trees whose roots ran down into the crevices of coral, and from which Tanna and Erromanga are clearly seen. But there the Natives for some superstitious reason forbade us to build, and we were constrained to take another rising-ground somewhat nearer the shore. In the end, this turned out to be the very best site on the Island for us, central and suitable every way. But we afterwards learned that perhaps superstition also led them to sell us this site, in the malicious hope that it would prove our ruin. The mounds on the top, which had to be cleared away, contained the bones and refuse of their Cannibal feasts for ages. None but their Sacred Men durst touch them; and the Natives watched us hewing and digging, certain that their gods would strike us dead! That failing, their thoughts may probably have been turned to reflect that after all the Jehovah God was stronger than they. In levelling the site, and gently sloping the sides of the ground for good drainage purposes, I had gathered together two large baskets of human bones. I said to a Chief in Tannese,— “How do these bones come to be here?” And he replied, with a shrug worthy of a cynical Frenchman,— “Ah, we are not Tanna men! We don’t eat the bones!”