Note 4 — My Further Adventures with Ratu Lala.

In spite of my sickness I managed to shoot a fair number of duck, wild chickens and pigeon, and also a few birds for my collection. One day, in spite of the rain, I was rowed over to Ngamia, which is a wonderfully beautiful island, about three hours from Qelani. It was thickly covered with a fine cycad which grows amongst the rocks overhanging the sea. The natives call it “loga-loga,”4 and eat the fruit. I landed and botanized a bit, finding some new and interesting plants, and then rowed on a few miles to call on the only white man on the island, an Australian named Mitchell, who has a large coconut property. He was astonished and pleased to see me, and introduced me to his Fijian wife, and his two pretty half-caste daughters soon got together a good breakfast for me. He seemed glad to see a white man again, and nearly talked my head off, and was full of anecdotes about the fighting they had with the Fijian cannibals in 1876. He told me that in the last great hurricane his house was blown over on to a small island which he owned nearly half-a-mile away.