light. By the time the sun was high in the heavens, blazing down on our white decks, where the pitch bubbled in the seams, we were skirting along the coast of Upolu; and on the beach could be seen clusters of little brown houses, made of palmleaves, and dark-coloured natives skimming over the water in outrigger canoes, fishing, or wading about with spears in their hands-a favourite method of catching fish, in which they are experts. Soon one or two wooden houses, belonging to the owners of coffee and cacao plantations, began to appear, and after passing the charming-looking house which is used as a Mormon mission, we could see the flag at Matautu Point run up to announce our approach. From among the trees on the mountain above Apia gleamed the white walls of the Catholic College, characteristically placed on one of the most beautiful spots imaginable, and commanding a magnificent view; for where are there more picturesque sites than those chosen by the Fathers in days gone by for their abbeys, priories, and monasteries?

Passing rapidly along the coast, the British

Consulate came in sight, a pretty one-storeyed house with a wide verandah running all round it, and in front a well-kept lawn, from the centre of which fluttered the British ensign. A minute later and Matautu Point, with the pilot station, is passed, and we are in the Bay of Apia, which stretches from Maliata to Mulinuu, a distance of about two miles, and along which, at intervals, a thin line of stores and shops is spread. Our ship passed through the outer coral reef of the two by which the bay is protected, and dropped anchor just where H.M.S. 'Calliope' made her bold and famous escape in 1888; and nearer the shore lay the great iron hulk of the German warship 'Adler,' which still shows half out of the water, a silent but eloquent reminiscence of that memorable occasion. It was pleasant to see swinging round her anchor close by a British cruiser with the white ensign flying. A few natives came paddling out in boats and canoes; among which we chose a boat large enough to hold our baggage, &c., bade our kindly skipper Leben Sie wohl,' and, running down the gangway, were soon being

pulled towards land. In the clear water we could see droves of tiny fishes with parrot-bills, and others like iridescent jewels sparkling in the sun's rays as they flashed through the submarine coral forest. While crossing the inner reef our boat grated over the great branches of coral; however, our Kanaka boatman was delightfully unconcerned, and landed us safely at the back of a house where there happened to be a little jetty. A grey-haired Englishman with a kindly face and courteous manner came down the steps to meet us, exclaiming: 'Well, I am glad to see English ladies! Welcome to Samoa!' and instantly called his servants to come and take our things out of the boat. This was the postmaster, who had lived there about twenty years, and he hospitably invited us to come into his house, where immediately tea, cakes and bananas were served by his housekeeper, a dignified old native woman named Solepa. Our new acquaintance was an enthusiastic Englishman, and inundated us with questions of 'Home,' which included anxious inquiries as to a prospec

tive war in Europe, a cholera scare, and the latest tenor ballads. We satisfied his questions to the best of our ability, and when we told him we hoped to find some little house up in the hills, and remain some months on the island, he most courteously put his house and people at our service until we should be suited, saying that his cottage at the back of the house would be sufficient for himself.

Early that afternoon, starting on our researches for an abode, we first strolled along the beach,' as the little settlement of houses is styled in most South Sea islands; while the dwellers therein are talked of asbeach folk,' and rather scorned by the inhabitants of the scattered villages in the mountains or the straggling settlements around the coast where strange ships do not trouble to call and the White trader is practically unknown. After walking about a quarter of a mile past a desultory row of houses and stores, meeting groups of indolent-looking natives and a few white men, most of whom lifted their hats out of courtesy to the strangers, we came to a well-made road which

turned sharply off to the right, leading straight up to the mountains. This road we followed, but slowly, for after the sea-breeze of weeks past the teeming warmth and wondrous beauty of the surroundings gave the feeling of wandering in dreamland.

The luxuriant tropical foliage on either side, and the gorgeous birds that hovered over the great trumpet-shaped flowers and twittered quaint little songs from the branches of wild orange-trees and cocoa-nut palms, added to the enchantment. Scarlet and black honey-eaters flashed through the dark green foliage, green and yellow jaos (Ptilotis carunculata) chattered in their almost human voices, and blue kingfishers crossed our path at every few steps. As soon as the beach was left behind the natives we met were courteous and charming. They all greeted us with smiles and the salutation of Talofa!' which

signifies My love to you!' 'Good day to you!' After about a mile and a half, and almost at the termination of the good part of the road (for farther up the hills it degenerates sadly), a turf track branched off, and, following it, we came to a small