, though his
following was small, they were ugly customers and well armed, and could
line up a dozen rifles in the twinkling of an eye. We often talked it
over among ourselves how to break the gang up, but, as he always left
the whites alone, and was even a favorite with the worst, it ended like
it begun--in smoke.

This Afiola wasn't of any particular age, because the natives don't know
when they are born, and have nothing to go by like dates and sich. I
suppose Afiola was somewheres around thirty, for he had two children,
about eight or nine each, a girl and a boy, who lived with him in his
house, together with Talavao, his old mother, Sosofina, his aunt, Oloa,
his uncle, his brother Filipo, and a raft of other blood relations whose
names I disremember. Like all the chiefs of Puna Punou, Afiola was a
tall, fine-looking man, very vigorous, lordly, and pleasant spoken, and
if it weren't for his pock-marked face and the wickedest eyes I ever saw
in a man's head, you would have said he was a perfect gentleman, and
handsome, as Kanakas go. I had never had a bit of trouble with him
myself, and whenever I put business in his way he had always come down
prompt with pigs and mats and _masoa_.

It was a long time before he took any notice of the Tweedies, not going
to church, and always busy raising a little hell somewheres. But when it
came, it came with a bang and no mistake, and, my stars, if he didn't
pull in the slack! He made up to the Mission house like he was their
long-lost brother; threw fits of reformation till they took him back
into church membership again; and not a blessed day passed but it was
pigs or chickens or sugar cane or pineapples at the Mission-house door,
and please, might their servant Afiola approach their Excellencies! It
was as good as a play to see the rascal winding them around his little
finger and doing injured innocent on their front stoop. To hear him gas,
you'd think there was a conspiracy to run him out of Fale a Lupo; and
even when he owned up to some of his misdeeds, it was like a compliment
to the Tweedies for having yanked in such a black sheep. I read
somewheres that the road to success is to trade on people's weaknesses,
and the soft spot with the Tweedies was their desire to make a
thundering success and leave all their predecessors in the soup. After
having captured the chief white sinner, Elijah Coe, they were now
hauling in the boss brown one, Afiola, and I guess they felt as plea