Old Samoan Days. 
l 7S 
from Apia, and I had to cross several tiny rivers 
ere I came to the final stretch of beach that led 
to the place. The air was full of a sweet 
summer softness, and as I walked along the 
firm, hard sand, with the cool shade of the 
forest on my right, and the wide sweep of reef- 
bound water on my left, I felt a strange but 
delightful elasticity of spirits. Now and then a 
native carrying a basket of fruit or vegetables 
would pass me with swinging tread, and give 
me a kindly T alofa ! 1 or, perhaps, setting down 
his load, would stop and chat for a few minutes. 
Presently, as I turned into a bend of the 
beach, I came across a party of some eight or 
ten people, seated under the shade of a coconut 
tree, and talking eagerly together. Most of 
them were old acquaintances, so laying down 
my gun, I acepted their invitation to stay and 
nofo ma tala tala fua , i.e., rest and indulge in a 
little talk ; “ for,” said one of them, “ we have 
news. There is now an American man-of-war 
at anchor in Saluafata. She came there last 
night, and now are we moved in our minds to 
know what this may mean to Samoa. What 
do you think ? ” 
1 The Samoan salutation—“ My love to you.” 
