It seemed that Ow-bow’s brother had some time before stolen the murderer’s wife, and taken her away to his own village and kept her there. After a time it occurred to him that having got her he might as well pay for her, after the native manner, and accordingly he visited the husband in order to settle his account. The husband, however, was not disposed to receive compensation of this sort, and accordingly he killed and ate the other. There is no doubt that he had heard of the man’s intention to come and see him, and that he laid wait for him. The victim was either speared or clubbed. The wailing for the dead man lasted about four or five hours, which is about the limit of Papuan mourning. After that time a murder becomes merely an interesting subject of conversation, and the people gathered around the camp fires, eagerly conversing in low tones until far into the night. At first their disposition was to demand a life for a life, that they might slay and eat, although, curiously enough, they would not have committed cannibalism in the presence of a white man or a native woman! [Illustration: HARRY PRATT. ] Next day our people and the villagers held a conference; they did not meet, however, but simply contented themselves with calling from ridge to ridge. Gradually the idea of the vendetta wore out of their minds, and at last it was proposed that the murderer, instead of paying a life for a life, should simply pay a pig for the murdered man. Accordingly two messengers brought in the compensation, slung on a pole. The pig was solemnly slain and eaten, and the incident was closed. The next extract from my son’s diary is more important, for if his journey close to the Kebea was risky, it was not nearly so sensational as one he had afterwards to make back to Ekeikei in order to relieve our higher camp from the pinch of hunger. His own account, however, scarcely gives a hint of the peril he was in. “_July 30th._—All the boys engaged to go to Ekeikei for the sago have run away, as they say that the natives at the village of Madui are hostile. Sam has gone out carrier hunting and obtained only two. “_July 31st._—I left this morning (as we are out of trade and provisions) at 6 o’clock for Ekeikei, arriving there at 4.30, but it was 2 A.M. before I could rest. “_Sat., Aug. 1st._—Left Ekeikei early about 7 A.M., and reached Madui about 4 o’clock. Had a bad night; it was very long, and I had no sleep at all. The mist very thick over the Madui hills. A good night for moths had it not been so light.” “_Aug. 2nd._—Reached the Kebea at 3 P.M. “_Aug. 3rd._—Very busy making sago boxes. “_Aug. 4th._—They killed another man at Madui the night I was there— they are killing a lot of men, women, and children.”