Rahe has just been to me to ask for boat medicine.
"What do you mean, Rahe?"
"I want you to give me some of that medicine you use to make your boat
sail."
"I use no medicine, only Motu strong arms."
"You could never have come along now without medicine."
"We use no medicine, and have come along well."
I had a splendid night's rest. My mosquito-net and blanket caused great
amusement. My attendants are innumerable and attentive, and will allow
no noise near. Our service in the morning was very noisy--everybody
anxious for quiet must needs tell his neighbour to be quiet. Our old
Port Moresby chief prayed in the Motumotu dialect. The Boera chief
translated for Piri and me. They are very anxious to know of the
resurrection and where Beritane spirits go after death.
In the afternoon we held service in the main street. The singing
attracted a very large and noisy crowd but when our old friend began to
pray it was as if a bomb-shell had exploded, men, women, and children
running as for dear life to their homes.
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