rred on a girl of good family, and has many honours and
emoluments in the way of presents attached to it. In some
cases a _taupo_ will not marry till she reaches middle age,
and occasionally will remain single.

In all the many years that I had spent on Manono, I had not once seen
the boy Manaia--he who had taken me from the water--though I had heard
of him as having been tattooed and grown into a tall man. But on the
same day that I returned and was taken to the _fale taupule_ (council
house) to be received by the people as their _taupo_, a girl named
Selema who attended me whispered his name, and pointed him out to me.
He was sitting with the other young men, and like them, dressed in his
best, and carrying a musket and the long knife called _nifa oti_. I saw
that he was very, very tall and strong, and Selema told me that there
were many girls who desired him for a husband, though he was poor, and,
it was known, was disliked by my father.

Now this girl Selema, who was of my own age, was given to me as my
especial _tavini_ (maid) and I grew to like her as my own sister. She
told me that already my father was casting about in his mind for a rich
husband for me, and that the man he most favoured was old Tamavili,
chief of Tufa, in Savai'i, who would soon be sending messengers with
presents to him, which if they were accepted, would mean that my father
was inclined to his suit, and that he, Tamavili, would follow himself
and pay court to me.

All this frightened me, and I told Selema I would escape to my uncle in
Manono, but she said that that would not do, as if he tried to protect
me it would mean war. So I said nothing more, though much was in my
mind, and I resolved to run away to the mountains, rather than be made
to marry Tamavili, who was a very old man.

One day Selema and I went to the river to wash our hair with the pith
of the wild oranges. We sat on the smooth stones near the water, and had
just begun to beat the oranges with pieces of wood to soften them, when
we saw a man come down the bank and enter a deep pool further up the
stream.

"'Tis Manaia," said Selema; "he hath come to drag the pool for fish."
Then she called out to him, "_Ola_, Manaia," and he looked at us and
laughed as he spun his small hand-net into the pool. We sat and watched
him and admired his strength and skill and the clever way in which he
dived and took the fish from his net. In a little while he had caught
seven-