His Highness used European spoons, forks, and knives. Mavai had adopted a coloured orphan, whom he kept under very strict discipline. This youth refused to go with Sam to Oo-fa-fa, and when the chief found out that his express orders had been disobeyed, he cut off a stick and thrashed the boy indoors for all he was worth. The boy received ten cuts, but neither moved nor howled, although the women of the village set up a dolorous wailing while the punishment was going on. As soon as the castigation was finished, Mavai seemed to be seized with sudden shamefacedness, for he ran at top speed to his sago plantation, and remained in retirement for a considerable time. At Epa the native houses begin to be beautifully constructed. They are on a raised platform, and look like inverted boats, the roof being formed by bending over long sticks, so as to form an arch that is thatched with sago leaf. The floor is particularly good, and at Epa there is an admirable guest-house, with a fine level floor of split sago, the pieces being 1¼ inches wide, neatly laid and bound together. Mavai’s guest-house, which adjoined his dwelling-house, was open at both ends. The house poles are very substantial, for they are driven into the iron ground, which is very stony, and radiated great heat, so that one could not go comfortably without boots, although in this respect the natives seem to be pachydermatous. We saw Mavai’s son build a house, neither asking nor requiring assistance. Single-handed he brought up his poles, peeled off the bark, and drove them in. One evening during our stay there was a terrific wind storm, a heavy north-wester, which tried the architecture of Epa severely. One slender house began to heel over, and it was accordingly tied to a tree with strands of cane, and a large gang of men held these stays until the worst of the storm was passed. Even Mavai’s substantial house gave way a little under the tempest. It was about 9.50 when we started on our journey from Epa to Ekeikei. We sent twenty-five carriers on with their loads, and we ourselves followed with the remainder of the baggage. Of course we could not carry everything on this trip, and it was my intention, when we finally reached our destination at Dinawa, to send back mountain men to bring the rest of the material up the forty miles’ tramp from Epa. At first the path led downwards, and very soon we came to a small river, over which—as the existing bamboo bridge was unsafe owing to a freshet— we had to be carried by the natives. We always took great care to avoid, as far as possible, getting our clothes wet, as this accident renders the European traveller particularly liable to fever. In this case, however, this precaution proved futile, owing to the oncoming of a downpour of rain—the last we were to see for nine months. [Illustration: EKEIKEI NATIVES. ]