where the two tracks met, and Sam, who had only gone a few yards, was with us in a minute. Mavai explained that, as it was already late in the day, he would not call his people together, but would make arrangements for them to carry for us on the following day. [Illustration: EPA VILLAGE, MAVAI’S CAPITAL. ] Mavai, the chief of Epa, is a magnificent autocrat, and is proud to be the white man’s friend. He was credited with powers of sorcery—hence his extraordinary influence. He overshadowed me with his favour, and commanded his entire village to “carry for Parki”—the Epan attempt to pronounce my name. Thus I obtained the force I required to take me onwards, and I went, one might almost say, on the shoulders of Epa—men, women, and children. The chief himself shouldered a load, without loss of dignity, and with great advantage to his royal pocket. My princely benefactor was no ordinary man. He stood about six feet high. His features were of Roman type, his bearing active and alert, his frame strong and wiry. Keen eyes looked out of a dark copper-coloured visage, which gained by contrast with a scarlet coat—a discarded British uniform, his only ceremonial garment, donned on occasions of great gravity. Such an occasion was the issuing of his command to carry for me. With due ceremony he mounted a platform erected near his house, and assuming the red coat he addressed his assembled people with magnificent oratory, emphasising his speech by actions. Mavai is a strict disciplinarian, and I have seen him administer personal chastisement to recalcitrant villagers. He is a mighty hunter, a fact attested by his crushed right hand, which was maimed by a bite from a wild pig. Our friend is a great polygamist, and formerly had fifteen wives. When we were there at Epa he possessed only five, to whom he was extremely kind, although he made them work pretty hard. One of them was specially appointed to wait upon her lord at his meals. On the death of another he was deeply affected, and cut off his mop of hair. He kept up considerable state, and at meal times sat in his house in a different apartment from that in which he slept. He was not above taking food with us, and used to ask for tobacco in a very lordly way. He smoked a European pipe, of which he was particularly proud, and when it was between his lips he used to touch the bowl consequentially and say, “Parki,” thus signifying to me that he was no small beer. He would pay the deepest attention throughout a long story, looking steadily at you, and when you had finished he would tell you what he thought, giving elaborate reasons. In the centre of his house hung a hurricane lamp, which he had got from Jack Exton, the sandalwood trader. He understood the working of the lamp quite well, and kept a supply of kerosene in the house in a tin. He was also indebted to Mr. Exton for a further adjunct of civilisation, viz. a pair of trousers very unfashionably big at the knee.