ivors only saved themselves by fleeing to the mountains.
Subsequently, the battles of Hararparpi and Fararar were fought, in
which the invaders met with indifferent success.

Shortly after the engagement at Hararparpi, three Frenchmen were
waylaid in a pass of the valleys, and murdered by the incensed
natives. One was Lefevre, a notorious scoundrel, and a spy, whom
Bruat had sent to conduct a certain Major Fergus (said to be a Pole)
to the hiding-place of four chiefs, whom the governor wished to seize
and execute. This circumstance violently inflamed the hostility of
both parties.

About this time, Kitoti, a depraved chief, and the pliant tool of
Bruat, was induced by him to give a great feast in the Vale of Paree,
to which all his countrymen were invited. The governor's object was
to gain over all he could to his interests; he supplied an abundance
of wine and brandy, and a scene of bestial intoxication was the
natural consequence. Before it came to this, however, several speeches
were made by the islanders. One of these, delivered by an aged
warrior, who had formerly been at the head of the celebrated Aeorai
Society, was characteristic. "This is a very good feast," said the
reeling old man, "and the wine also is very good; but you evil-minded
Wee-Wees (French), and you false-hearted men of Tahiti, are all very
bad."

By the latest accounts, most of the islanders still refuse to submit
to the French; and what turn events may hereafter take, it is hard to
predict. At any rate, these disorders must accelerate the final
extinction of their race.

Along with the few officers left by Du Petit Thouars were several
French priests, for whose unobstructed exertions in the dissemination
of their faith, the strongest guarantees were provided by an article
of the treaty. But no one was bound to offer them facilities; much
less a luncheon, the first day they went ashore. True, they had
plenty of gold; but to the natives it was anathema--taboo--and, for
several hours and some odd minutes, they would not touch it.
Emissaries of the Pope and the devil, as the strangers were
considered--the smell of sulphur hardly yet shaken out of their
canonicals--what islander would venture to jeopardize his soul, and
call down a blight on his breadfruit, by holding any intercourse with
them! That morning the priests actually picknicked in grove of
cocoa-nut trees; but, before night, Christian hospitality--in
exchange for a commercial equivale