f Brice's wife tenderly within his own, he
clasped them together and placed the emblem of Christ upon the quiet
bosom.

AT A KAFA-DRINKING

I.

The first cool breaths of the land breeze, chilled by its passage
through the dew-laden forest, touched our cheeks softly that night as
we sat on the traders' verandah, facing the white, shimmering beach,
smoking and watching the native children at play, and listening for the
first deep boom of the wooden _logo_ or bell that would send them racing
homewards to their parents and evening prayer.

*****

"There it is," said our host, who sat in the farthest corner, with his
long legs resting by the heels on the white railing; "and now you'll see
them scatter."

The loud cries and shrill laughter came to a sudden stop as the boom of
the _logo_ reached the players, and then a clear boyish voice reached
us--"_Ua ta le logo_" (the bell has sounded). Like smoke before the gale
the lithe, half-naked figures fled silently in twos and threes between
the cocoanuts, and the beach lay deserted.

*****

One by one the lights gleamed brightly through the trees as the women
piled the fires in each house with broken cocoanut shells. There was but
the faintest breath of wind, and through the open sides of most of the
houses not enough to flicker the steady light, as the head of the family
seated himself (or herself) close to the fire, and, hymn-book in hand,
led off the singing. Quite near us was a more pretentious-looking
structure than the others, and looking down upon it we saw that the
gravelled floor was covered with fine, clean mats, and arranged all
round the sides of the house were a number of camphorwood boxes,
always--in a Samoan house--the outward and visible sign of a well-to-do
man. There was no fire lighted here; placed in the centre of the one
room there stood a lamp with a gorgeous-looking shade, of many colours.
This was the chief's house, and the chief of Aleipata was one of the
strong men of Samoa--both politically and physically. Two of our party
on the verandah were strangers to Samoa, and they drew their chairs
nearer, and gazed with interest at the chief and his immediate following
as they proceeded with their simple service. There were quite a number
of the _aua-luma_ (unmarried women) of the village present in the
chief's house that evening, and as their tuneful voices blend in an
evening hymn--

"_Matou te nau e faafetai_"--we wished that instead