ur
going on. We are all ready to start with a land breeze. The crews have
sent us word, "When you wish to start, call out; you will see us gladly
spring into the water."

On leaving Delena with a light breeze and pulling, we reached the Kaveri
beach near Cape Possession, about eight a.m. When near Maiva, we met a
Motumotu canoe. At first they were afraid to come alongside of us, but
after a little talk we got near them, exchanged presents, and were soon
friends. They seem glad we are going to their home; they say peace will
be arranged. The Motumotu have said that if we only were to visit them,
they would gladly make peace.

It seems that they are very badly off for _uros_ (earthenware pots), and
the native tribes along the coast to the west of them are crying out and
blaming them for the scarcity. They are certainly blaming the right
party; but for Motumotu, the Pari, Vapukori, Port Moresby, Boliapata, and
Boera trading canoes would all have been down the coast last season. The
principal man in the canoe, knowing that all, except our boatman, Bob
Samoa, had friends at Motumotu, made friends with him, rubbing noses and
handing his lime gourd, which is to be shown on arrival, and his father
and friends will receive Bob as his friends. They go on to Lolo in quest
of _uros_.

We landed to cook food. On awaking from a sleep, I was astonished to
find a crowd of natives close by, and my friend the Kaveri chief, Arana,
sitting near me. Two boys, who were on the beach fishing, seeing us
land, ran inland and reported, and he, with two of his wives carrying
food, followed by men and women from the villages, came down. His two
wives are now busy cooking, and he is trying to persuade me to call on
our return and get his present of sago and food. I could not promise,
and he seemed disappointed.

We left the Kaveri beach and pulled round Cape Possession, passing close
in by Oiapu. A heavy sea was rolling in, and a canoe putting off to us
was swamped. People running along the beach called on Piri and me by
name to land and feast, but our crews were too frightened, and we went
on. When off Jokea, men, women, and children all came on to the beach,
and also by name begged of us to land. We would have done so here, but
the sea was too high, breaking with great force on the fringing reef.
Several canoes put off, but only one succeeded in reaching us. They
begged of us to call on our return, and let them know the resul