boat, food, and servants. The story of the _malaga_ to the village
of Vaiee follows in Mrs. Strong's own words:

"There was only a footpath over the mountain, and as we had to cross
many torrents on no better bridge than a felled cocoanut tree, we
could not even go on horseback. My mother was not able to make the
trip on foot, and I conceived the brilliant idea of slinging a chair
with ropes to two poles and having our Samoan men carry her in it. So
all was arranged, and we made an early morning start. I walked
barefoot and my mother sat in her 'sedan chair' like an island
princess, with her little bare feet swinging with the swaying of the
chair. We had four men for relays in carrying the chair, while others
carried our presents--tins of biscuits, barrels of salt beef, rolls of
calico, and numerous trinkets--besides our wardrobe, which contained a
'silika' (silk) dress for each of us in which to do honor to our
hosts.

"As we swung into the Ala Loto Alofa[60]--an odd procession, for our
boys had decorated us with wreaths and garlands--we passed a
carriage-load of surprised 'steamer-day' tourists who had come up the
mountainside to look at Vailima. As our little party wound into the
forest the road grew gradually steeper, and we walked under the dense
shade of huge trees, hung with lianas, orchids, and other parasitic
plants. The jungle was so thick that now and then the men had to cut
away branches with their cane knives to make a passage for us. This
sounds like hard work, but the wild banana plants, giant ferns, lush
grass, and fat leaves fell before one slash of the knife. It was damp
and a little breathless in the depths of the forest, but we rested
often on the way. The worst place was about a mile of swamp land that
was full of leeches. They fell on us from the overhanging branches of
the trees, and as our feet sank into the mud they stuck to our ankles.
However, the men were constantly on the lookout for them, and when
they saw one would sprinkle salt on it and it would immediately fall
off. We had invited an English couple, a Captain F. and his wife, who
were staying at the hotel, to go with us. The lady wore shoes, and as
her feet grew more and more soppy from walking in the damp grass and
through the swamps she suffered a good deal. I was much better off
walking barefoot.

[Footnote 60: This was the "Road of the Loving Hearts,"
built by the Mataafa chiefs in return for Tusitala'