the gorge of a brook. An endless
fusillade and shouting maintained the spirit of the warriors; and at
night, even if the firing slackened, the pickets continued to exchange
from either side volleys of songs and pungent pleasantries. Nearer
hostilities were rendered difficult by the nature of the ground, where
men must thread dense bush and clamber on the face of precipices. Apia
was near enough; a man, if he had a dollar or two, could walk in before
a battle and array himself in silk or velvet. Casualties were not
common; there was nothing to cast gloom upon the camps, and no more
danger than was required to give a spice to the perpetual firing. For
the young warriors it was a period of admirable enjoyment. But the
anxiety of Mataafa must have been great and growing. His force was now
considerable. It was scarce likely he should ever have more. That he
should be long able to supply them with ammunition seemed incredible; at
the rates then or soon after current, hundreds of pounds sterling might
be easily blown into the air by the skirmishers in the course of a few
days. And in the meanwhile, on the mountain opposite, his outnumbered
adversary held his ground unshaken.

By this time the partisanship of the whites was unconcealed. Americans
supplied Mataafa with ammunition; English and Americans openly
subscribed together and sent boat-loads of provisions to his camp. One
such boat started from Apia on a day of rain; it was pulled by six
oars, three being paid by Moors, three by the MacArthurs; Moors himself
and a clerk of the MacArthurs' were in charge; and the load included not
only beef and biscuit, but three or four thousand rounds of ammunition.
They came ashore in Laulii, and carried the gift to Mataafa. While they
were yet in his house a bullet passed overhead; and out of his door they
could see the Tamasese pickets on the opposite hill. Thence they made
their way to the left flank of the Mataafa position next the sea. A
Tamasese barricade was visible across the stream. It rained, but the
warriors crowded in their shanties, squatted in the mud, and maintained
an excited conversation. Balls flew; either faction, both happy as
lords, spotting for the other in chance shots, and missing. One point is
characteristic of that war; experts in native feeling doubt if it will
characterise the next. The two white visitors passed without and between
the lines to a rocky point upon the beach. The person of Moors was well
known