Kone
at once offered me as much land as I wanted. After thinking it over on
board, I decided on building. I landed tents, and pitched them on the
rise above the village. My experience is that places quite exposed to
south-east wind are _more_ unhealthy than swampy country. On Rarotonga
there were more deaths on the windward side of the island than on the
leeward.
On the Sunday after landing, we went down and had service in the village.
Kone interpreted into Lolo. When telling the people we had no work for
them on Sunday, Kone said: "Oh! we know, and we, too, are going to be
_helaka_ (sacred) to-morrow." I asked him, "Come, Kone, how do you
know?" "From Boera." I met a lad repeating the Lord's Prayer in Motu,
and found he had been taught by Piri. The Motu tribe has already had
great influence, and will have more and more every year. I have an
interesting class of children, and hope, before we leave, they will know
their letters well.
What nonsense one could write of the reception here--such as "Everybody
at service this morning listened attentively; commented on address or
conversation; children all come to school, so intelligent, and seemingly
anxious to learn; and, altogether, prospects are bright.
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