188 
Wild Life in Southern Seas . 
marked by the shrill scream of the paroquets, 
and the proud, haughty “ boom ! ” of the red- 
crested pigeon. 
Now we near the village and the deep quiet of 
the forest is broken by sounds like chopping 
and tapping on wood. It is the native women, 
beating out with heavy wooden mallets the bark 
of the paper mulberry to make tappa , the native 
cloth. Our natives quicken their steps and 
break into song ; the sounds from the village 
cease, and then we hear plainly enough the soft 
voices of the women borne through the forest 
in an answering chorus of welcome. Ten 
minutes more, the ladies stepping out bravely in 
our midst, and we round the bend of the track, 
and there before us is a pretty little Arcadian- 
Polynesian village of some ten or a dozen 
thatch-covered houses. In the centre stands 
the largest edifice, a great mushroom-roofed 
house, open at the sides, and the floor covered 
with rough but clean mats made from the 
coconut leaf. Seated in the house are some 
five or six women, engaged in making tappa; 
but they hastily lay their implements aside, and 
one, quite an ancient lady, bids us come in ; 
and, as is ever the case in Samoa with European 
