FATE OF SCEPTICS. 403 



approach Naicobocobo. One calls, " Please, Sir, we want 

 a canoe to take us to Bulu." An invisible hand places 

 a canoe, built of the timber of the breadfruit tree, 

 within their reach. " Oh, Sir," said the spokesman, " we 

 are not slaves ; we want to go to Bulu like chiefs." 

 The canoe is withdrawn, and its place supplied with 

 one built of ironwood. No sooner is it near them, than 

 the sceptics throw their spears at it, and exclaim, with 

 a derisive laugh, " Oh, we are not going to die just yet." 

 A voice was heard, " Young men, unbelievers, you have 

 called for two canoes : they have not returned empty ; 

 both have conveyed your own relatives. There is death 

 in the houses of both of you." Thoroughly alarmed, 

 they hurry home. The sounds of wailing are heard as 

 they near their town. Both their mothers are dead. 



But I must conclude, for fear that I may be served as 

 Dr. Brower, the American Consul in Fiji, served a man 

 residing on his estate at Wakaya, who nightly would 

 persist in attracting all the boys of the neighbourhood 

 by telling stories, and inflaming their youthful imagina- 

 tion to such an extent, that not one of them would stir 

 abroad for fear of meeting some of the mighty person- 

 ages to w r hom he had been introduced. Dr. Brower, 

 not liking the whole troop to sleep on his premises, 

 hit upon the expedient of requesting the story-teller 

 to accompany every one of those he had frightened to 

 his respective home, and, as the youthful listeners live 

 in every direction of the compass, it takes him a good 

 time to comply with the request ; still, it does not 

 prevent him from again and again indulging in his 

 old weakness of telling fairy and ghost stories. 



2 D 2 



