“The conduct of the men of Aniwa is to stand by, or sit and look on, while their women do the work!” On Aniwa we soon found ourselves face to face with blank Heathenism. The natives at first expected that the Missionary’s _Biritania tavai_ (= British Medicine) would cure at once all their complaints. Disappointment led to resentment in their ignorant and childish minds. They also expected to get for the asking, or for any trifle, an endless supply of knives, calico, fish-hooks, blankets, etc. Every refusal irritated them. Again, our Medicines relieved or cured them, so they blamed us also for their diseases,—all their Sacred Men not only curing but also _causing_ sickness. Further, they generally came to us only after exhausting every resource of their own witchcraft and superstition, and when it was probably too late. I had often to taste the Medicine in their sight before the sufferers would touch it; and if one dose did not cure them, it was almost impossible to get them to persevere. But time taught them its value, and the yearly expenditure for Medicine soon became a very heavy tax on our modest salary. Still we set our bell a-ringing every day after dinner—intimating our readiness to give advice or medicine to all who were sick. We spoke to them, so soon as we had learned, a few words about Jesus. The weak received a cup of tea and a piece of bread. The demand was sometimes great, especially when epidemics befell them. But some rather fled from us as the cause of their sickness, and sought refuge from our presence in remotest corners, or rushed off at our approach and concealed themselves in the bush. They were but children, and full of superstition; and we had to win them by kindly patience, never losing faith in them and hope for them, any more than the Lord did with us! As on Tanna, all sicknesses and deaths were supposed to be caused by sorcery, there called _Nahak_, on Aniwa called _Tafigeitu_. Some Sacred Man burned the remains of food such as the skin of a banana, or a hair from the head, or something that the person had even touched, and he was the disease-maker. Hence they were kept in a state of constant terror, and breathed the very atmosphere of revenge. When one became sick, all the people of his village met day after day, and made long speeches and tried to find out the enemy who was causing it. Having fixed on some one, they first sent presents of mats, baskets, and food to the supposed disease-makers; if the person recovered, they took credit for it; if the person died, his friends sought revenge on the supposed murderers. And such revenge took a wide sweep, satisfying itself with the suspected enemy, or any of his family, or of his village, or even of his tribe. Thus endless bloodshed and unceasing intertribal wars kept the people from one end of the Island to the other in one long-drawn broil and turmoil.