Wild Life in Southern Seas. 
1 48 
This I blushingly declined, preferring a gar¬ 
ment of my own design—a pair of dungaree 
pants razeed from the knees down. Then, 
bidding me hurry up and meet the swimming 
party on the beach, Toria and his sister ran 
back to the village to attend early morning- 
service, to which the wooden cylinder that did 
duty for a church bell was already summoning 
the people. 
Now, in some of the Pacific Islands surf¬ 
swimming is one of the forbidden things, for 
many of the native teachers hold the sport to 
savour of the fo uli — i.e ., the heathen days— 
and the young folks can only indulge in the 
innocent diversion away from the watchful eye 
of the local Chadband and his alert myrmidons, 
the village police, among whom all fines are 
divided. But in this particular little island we 
had for our resident missionary a young stalwart 
Samoan, who did not forbid his flock to dance 
or sing, nor prohibit the young girls from wear¬ 
ing flowers in their dark locks. And he him¬ 
self was a mighty fisherman and a great diver 
and swimmer, and smoked his pipe and laughed 
and sang with the people out of the fulness of 
his heart when they were merry, and prayed for 
