Figian sailors, like all other sailors throughout the world, are very superstitious. Certain parts of the ocean, through fear of the spirits of the deep, they pass over in silence, with uncovered heads, and careful that no fragment of wood or part of their dress shall fall into the water. The common tropic bird is the shrine of one of their gods, and the shark of another; and should the one fly over their heads, or the other swim past, those who wear turbans would doff them, and all utter some word of respect. A shark lying athwart their course is an omen which fills them with fear. A basket of bitter oranges on board a vessel is believed to diminish her speed. On one sort of canoe it is “tapu” (sacrilege) to eat food in the hold; on another in the house on deck; on another on the platform near the house. Canoes have been lost altogether because the crew, instead of exerting themselves in a storm, have quitted their posts to _soro_ to their gods, and throw yagona and whales’ teeth to the waves to propitiate them. Very different from the elaborate Figian vessel is the canoe of the native of Torres Straits. This latter, which is often ninety feet in length, is constructed out of a single tree, obtained from the mainland of New Guinea. It is burnt out or hacked out, according to the New Guinean’s convenience; it has a raised gunwale, and in the centre is a platform. The stem and stern are closed, the head being shaped to the rude resemblance of a shark or some other marine monster, and in the stern is generally to be found a projecting pole from which is dangling a bunch of emu feathers. They carry a mat sail set forward between two poles hooked to the gunwale, bringing the heads of the poles to the wind as required. [Illustration: Torres Straits Canoe.] To return, however, to the “war path.” No less superstitious than the Figian is his savage brother the New Zealander, who, as we are informed by Taylor and other trustworthy authorities, did not dare to go to war before he had undergone a sort of confirmation at the hands of the priest. Each priest, on the declaration of war, assembled his own party, and went to a sacred water. At first they all sat down, but after a time they stood up naked in the water, which they heaped up against their bodies, and threw over their heads. After they had been sprinkled by the priest, he said: “This is the spirit, the spirit is present, The spirit of this tapu! The boy will be angry, The boy will flame, The boy will be brave, The boy will possess thought. Name this boy That he may be angry, that he may flame, To make the hail fall: Dedicate him to fight for Tu; Ward off the blow that he may fight for Tu. The man of war jumps and wards off the blows.”