During Mr. Hardy’s travels in these islands, he came across a kind of graveyard where chiefs were {168} supposed to be buried underground, and a heap of stones and rocks marked the spots where they lay. The skull-huts, already alluded to, show that this is still another form of burial—they are innumerable. Rain-making is almost as universal as feeding, and every race has its rain-maker, who, for a consideration, will tap the cloudless sky and bring torrents of water down to quench the thirst of the dry earth. In the New Hebrides the rain-maker goes into the forest and there collects the branches of a certain tree, which he cuts into lengths and lays a dozen or so of them parallel to each other. He then takes another dozen and threads them through the parallel ones, forming a kind of flat basket-work hurdle. Over this contrivance he mutters prayers, and then buries it in a dried-up creek where the water should be running. More incantations follow this proceeding, and then heavy stones and rocks are placed over the rain producer, and the inhabitants all wait for the rain, which, strange to say, generally comes. [Illustration 56: THE STONE “DEMITS,” OR THE SOULS, WITH THEIR ATTENDANT WOODEN FIGURES, MALEKULA ISLAND, NEW HEBRIDES.] There is no lack of faith in these natives, and when once they have applied to the rain-maker they set to work to make preparation for the rain, which reminds me of an amusing anecdote I heard in {169} America. In Belmont there had been a tremendous drought, and the farmers were in such a fright that they unanimously decided to appoint a certain day on which rain should be prayed for. On the Sunday chosen, the farmers, their wives, and families rose early and started off to church. Just as one party were leaving home a little child of five or six years old suddenly sprang down from the buggy and cried out for them to wait a minute, as she disappeared into the house. Every one wondered what was the matter, and presently, when the child appeared carrying a great big carriage umbrella, they all burst into roars of laughter. “Why,” said the father, “you silly child, there’s not a cloud in the sky.” For a moment the child looked perplexed. “But, daddy,” she said in a tone of wonder, “aren’t we going to pray for rain?” The natives of the New Hebrides are very much like this little girl, and perhaps their faith brings about the results they desire. Who knows? Sometimes, however, they get more than they desire. One writer gives an amusing description of what happened in 1890, at Ambrym, an island adjoining Malekula, when rain was asked for. “Make us rain,” said the natives to the {170} rain-maker, “or our yams will not grow and we shall starve.”