ing us on our way. Swift night was closing about us, and it seemed as if a parting present to the Chief might be a tactful indication that we wanted to get away. 66 A The small change of the island is "tambak," or tobacco in black sticks, and, being light to carry, this form of Trade " was all that I now had remaining with me. general distribution of this, with a special extra of three boxes of matches to the Chief, brought, as I had hoped, the debate to a close. Torches of coconut fronds were handed to us, and the track leading to our destination was pointed out. By this time it was pitch dark, and we set forth in single file once more, followed by shouts from the village, with Uili carrying a large torch in front, and lesser lights in the hands of the four bluejackets and myself. Answering shouts of "Wá-o!" went back from all of us, having now learnt the necessary trick of voice for this yodel, and thus, between lights and shouts, we kept the "debbleums" of the dark bush in their homes and out of harm's way. In less than five minutes we found ourselves suddenly brought up by a fence surrounding a taro patch, marking the absolute end of the path. "Ko!" says Uili in great surprise. "What name you makeum," said I; that is to say, "What is the matter? "Dat bloody fella he talkum gammon b'long me," said Uili; Now that we were so hopelessly bushed," I suggested going back to the village and compelling one of the men there to come with us to show us the way, but Uili would not hear of this, and indeed seemed to be in a regular and unashamed funk. Perhaps he thought the old soldier might be there waiting for him behind a tree with his his renowned musket, and if so he was not far wrong, as it turned out. Uili found that it was possible to get back to the original point where the roads had forked, and he had "loseum," by a side track which did not go through the village, though passing it fairly closely. proposed that we should now take this by-pass, and, on reaching it, try the other fork of the road, which was, no doubt, the right one for us. Before we had started on our expedition the missionary had told us there was no need to carry rifles anywhere in Efate; that peace reigned throughout the island, and that in any case no native would dare to attack "man b'long man'wa'," which they knew us to be. We were thus thankful not to have the additional burden of small arms with all our other gear, but, just in case of trouble, I took my revolver, carrying it on a belt round my waist, but out of sight inside the voluminous top of my breeches. Uili, who did not know about the revolver, was visibly relieved as well as surprised when now I produced it. I cocked it and held it in my hand, leading the way with Uili's assistance, all of us walking as quietly as possible with lights dowsed and keenly on the look-out. There was a little bend in the path just before we got to the fork for which we were making, and as we turned it, there, dimly visible in the the darkness, was the old soldier standing motionless, musket in hand. No doubt he had heard our approaching footsteps, but did not think we were so close. I made a grab at his frowzy old coat, and holding my pistol to his head to frighten him (as it certainly did), called to the men behind to seize the old sinner and take away his gun. This was quickly and silently done. Uili then told him he was to go ahead of us and guide us to the "saalwater," and to prevent his desertion he was secured to two of the bluejackets with our last fathoms of spun yarn. I then held the revolver over my head, and fired three or four shots into the air. The rest of the village, I felt certain, were not far behind their soldier leader, and this feu de joie was intended to send them home again. A rapid pattering of feet showed me that I was quite justified. We saw them no more. We relighted our torches, the old soldier obediently set forth in front, thoroughly frightened, and after about an hour of difficult tramping we emerged on the beach. At a little distance away was the Dart, our home, her riding light on the forestay bright in the blackness of the air, bright too in an oily path of light over the equally black water. A pleasant sight indeed to a weary tramping party! A pistol-shot signal and Dart ahoy!" brought us a boat in very quick time, and we came on board bringing our prisoner with us, nothing brave about him now but the braggart colour of his coat. He slept on board under the eye of the Quartermaster on watch, and the next day we took him round to Havannah Harbour to talk to Mr Macdonald at the Mission station. He had asked us to get his assistance in case of any difficulties arising with his parishioners during the course of our survey. When I told him what had happened, and when Uili had added his share of the story, his long face and grey beard seemed to grow longer still. He thought we had come out of it very fortunately. He knew that district to be a wild one, and he had no doubt but that plunder breast. vast stores of food, of men, of muskets. There would be no doubt left in their minds of our strength and ability to punish; and yet with all this we could send them presents in return for their evil deeds against us. 66 Misa Makadonal knew him for a Mission renegade, and gave him a talking-to in his own language, in which anger and Christian sorrow seemed to be combined judiciously, and then handed him back to us for further treatment. We took the old sinner back to the ship, and kept him there at work for a few days, until it was time to go again to the bay at which we had been picked up on that dark night. He went home from the Dart a reformed character, with quite new ideas as to the nature of man b'long man'wa'. The men had been amused by the old chap, and had filled him up with food of the most varied kinds, and spoilt him thoroughly, after the manner of bluejackets. There was no "punishment" about it at all. He bore away with him presents not only for himself but also for the bad fella man, his village mates. That, however, is the real way to deal with these wild creatures. The old soldier would now tell them of our ship, and of its Magnanimity of this kind always pays with savages; it is far better than punitive expeditions, which savour of "bullying," and are, after all, only their own primitive method of paying out any one. This was the first time I had seen this other method put in practice, and it was so successful that I have followed it on several similar occasions since. By its means bad fella man became good fella man, and the men of this village became of the greatest use to us during the survey as bush-clearers, trackers, carriers, and, best of all, as preservers and protectors of our calico marks, though to any native such material, so confidingly spread along the coast, was more to be desired than rubies. I have little doubt that, later on, all of them "took the Book" (as joining the Mission is called among them), and have by now died, or will die, in the odour of missionary sanctity-an odour as experienced in any Mission schoolhouse on a hot day almost more penetrating than that of heathenry; but if so, it was through our tobacco-providing presence, and through "workabout b'long man'wa' that they first became established on the Upward Path. SYLVESTRO, A BYZANTINE. BY "LEANDER." the small hours of an early autumn morning, far out on the still waters of the Gulf of Ismidt. a WE first met by accident in suddenly churned into life. Thousands of fish-heads appeared an inch or two above the surface, snapping with a peculiar noise like the bursting of small bubbles. Then couple of sea-snakes some five feet long, with heads swaying a foot above the water, came wriggling uncannily towards us. They looked quite angry, but dived when we were almost on them. Some two or three days' fishing had exhausted my supply of bait. Prawns were scarce and difficult to find. The few which my boatman had trapped on the previous evening had mysteriously disappeared. Fishermen when at work in these waters never ask for bait or part with it. Nevertheless, I hailed Sylvestro, and asked him to sell me some. His reply was significant of the man. But Sylvestro, watching the bottom, paddled quietly along the shore. From time to time he pointed out soles at rest, but they were so completely camouflaged with sand that I failed to see them. showed me empty spaces where they had slept the night, showed me dog-fish asleep and cuttlefish, and the gradual coming to life of the deep. He "You will catch no bass to-day, even if I give you bait. You had better come with me. I will show you more sport and more of the secrets of these waters than you dream of. We need no lines and no bait. With landing-net alone we I have my landing-net. The collected that morning some elements are with us.' thirty sole, two dog-fish, a Amused and interested, I couple of lobsters - a more accepted his invitation. varied basket than it has ever been my lot to handle. By nightfall, fishing with lines and drift-net, we had added enough to make us think of landing. The first thing was to hide the larger fish in the sails; The sun had just risen. In the hush of that grey morning the sea around us was so smooth and so clear that one could see bottom everywhere. We rowed into one of the small creeks which abound the rest we placed between along the Asiatic coast. As ribs of the boat, and in a we entered it we disturbed a special locker built for the shoal of slumbering mullet. purpose. The waters around us were To my scruples at the risk he was running of being caught smuggling, he laughed. "What have I to fear? Is not the revenue inspector a Turk? Is he not a regular customer of mine? Bah! He gets free shaves and many a dish of fish for nothing. The fish he eats pays no duty, nor will mine! ment manuscript book, without a cover, very discoloured, and with some parts missing. It was the work of several writers, and the earliest portion was evidently centuries old. There was also a collection of fragments of terra-cotta pottery, some lamps of iridescent glass, Byzantine bricks, "What do you mean by and a rubbish-heap of pieces free shaves?" I asked. 66 Why, I am the village barber! He never pays me, but we are quits, for I never pay fish duties either!" We rowed to Pendik, the village where he lived. The Marmora lapped at his back door. We hauled his boat into his kitchen. I found one corner of it devoted to the cooking of family meals. The rest was given up to his two sporting dogs, his boat, his fishing-nets, his shrimp and lobster baskets, his boating tackle, and the odd things he had picked up on fishing trips. The front room of his house was his shop. Here he shaved the heads or faces of his Moslem clients; or at times stitched a wound, set a bone or drew a molar, all of which helped him to gain the goodwill of his neighbours, Greek and Turk. In the room which I occupied, I found a score of books. Most of them were on Byzantine history. There was one on Greek coins, and another on Ecclesiastical Laws of Monasteries.' I also found a parchment manuscript on 'Instructions how to Paint Ikons and the Saints,' and another parch of white and coloured marbles. I questioned him about these next morning. He answered in an offhand way "I have always collected such things. The village folk call me the 'Antika.' The Greeks used to bring me what they found. Now all that has stopped. The Turks know nothing of such matters, and care less. Yes, I sold things to the dealers in the bazaars." "Some I bought. One the Ecclesia gave me. Some have come to me from my forbears. The two manuscripts were written by one of them, and added to by others. The larger one tells the story of the Monastery of Irene. I have many things to tell you." And then he added with all seriousness, "My people have lived in these parts since the conquest. Some held high ecclesiastical and official rank before the conquest. They played their part in stemming the Moslem tide. Many were engulfed in that tide. One abandoned his faith!"—and he uttered a pious wish that this |