Wild Life in Southern Seas. 
196 
between the two places they dared not. Only a 
few months before, so they told us, a war party 
of Safatans had made an attack on their village, 
but had been beaten off; some heads were taken 
on both sides, and the Safatans had retreated, 
vowing vengeance. 
After lunch, which we ate under a huge 
banyan tree, we began our march again, and in 
a few minutes emerged from the gloom of the 
mountain forest out upon the verge of a plateau 
overlooking the coast for a dozen miles east and 
west. But much as we desired to stay awhile 
and feast ourselves upon the gorgeous panorama 
of tropical beauty that lay beneath us, we could 
not, for there were dark clouds sweeping up 
from the north, and a deluge of rain might fall 
upon us at any moment. So off we started 
down the steep and slippery path, catching hold 
of vines, hanging creepers, and branches of 
trees, to save ourselves from getting to the base 
of the mountain too quickly. Gafalua had sent 
Vaitupu and her brother on to announce the 
approach of a malaga (a party of visitors), and 
soon after we reached the level ground, and just 
as the first drops of rain began to fall, we heard 
the sounds of a native drum beating—the people 
