.

At the head of the villagers was a man of striking appearance, tall,
with white hair, such as you would call distinguished, because he
differed from most around him. The women were well clad, and the
children plump and vigorous in their actions.

Something must be wrong! These people were not criminals! The old man
came forward, and gave a respectful bow. He looked at John and said a
few words. Calmo responded, his words when translated being: "These are
friends of my father, and they have come to visit you."

At this the man gave another bow, and John went up and held out his
hand, which the man took in a simple and unaffected manner.

"We welcome you to our village," was his reply.

The boys looked at each other and relaxed their hold on the guns. Was
this, after all, the wicked place that had been described to them? As
they marched down to the village they were enchanted at the flowers
which greeted them on all sides.

Here and there were garden spots, carefully kept, and when the first
huts appeared beyond the grove, the boys simply gasped, and could hardly
believe their senses. Hundreds of Magnolia trees were in bloom; and the
gentle breeze blowing in from the sea, moderated the rays of the sun,
and wafted the odor of the plants many miles inland.

The homes were not rudely built, and, although they were on the same
general plan of those in Sasite, they had every appearance of comfort.

The head man of the village led them to a more pretentious home,
probably his own dwelling. This was soon confirmed, as they were invited
to enter and repose themselves on slightly elevated couches, so much
like Chief Beralsee's court.

Within a short time there was a great commotion in the village. The boys
looked around startled, and the old man noticed it, for he turned to
Calmo, and said: "The villagers are preparing a feast for you. Let them
go out and mingle with the people."

The boys were happy at this opportunity of satisfying their curiosity.
Sutoto accompanied them, and with Calmo, they placed themselves under
the guidance of a young man named Anasa, who, Calmo said, was the son of
the old man.

They passed down the main street, for there was some semblance of order
in the location of the huts. Around the huts were flowers, just as they
had seen on the path leading from the mountain, and here and there
patches of growing vegetables. After passing one rather attractive
looking hut, Anasa paused for a moment