The chief of Paitana and two followers,
with my friend Lauma, of Lolo, waited to accompany me. After breakfast
we got into the boat, Lavao in charge. We entered the same creek as for
Motu Lavao, and when up it some distance turned up another to the right,
too narrow to use oars. When two miles up we anchored boat, then walked
or waded for two miles through swamp and long grass. When near the
village we heard loud wailing, and Lavao, who was leading, thought it
better we should wait for the old chief, who was some distance behind. On
coming up they spoke in Lolo, then threw down his club, calling on one of
his followers to pick it up. He went in front, and called on me to
follow close to him, the others coming after; and so we marched into the
village and up on to his platform. Then began speechifying, presenting
cooked food, betel-nuts, pig, and feathers. When all was finished I gave
my present, and said a few words in the Motu dialect. The uncle of the
man shot by Dr. James came on to the platform, caught me by the arm and
shouted, _Maino_! (peace), saying that they, the chiefs, knew nothing of
the attack.
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