Two miles off the lee end of Upolu is the low-lying island of Manono, which is, however, enclosed in the Upolu barrier reef.  It is only about three miles in circumference, exceedingly fertile, and is the most important place in the group, owing to the political influence wielded by the chiefly families who have always made it their home.  A mile from Manono, and in the centre of the deep strait separating Upolu from Savaii, is a curiously picturesque spot, an island named Apolima.[17] It is an extinct crater, but has a narrow passage on the north side, and is inhabited by about fifty people, who are delighted to see any papalagi (foreigner) who is venturesome enough to make a landing there.

Savaii is distant about ten miles from Upolu.  Its coast is for the most part itu papa—­i.e., iron bound—­but there are five populous towns there—­Palaulae, Salealua, Asaua, Matautu, and Safune.  After making the round of Savaii, the boat has to make back to Manono, and then can proceed inside the reef all the way to Apia, making stoppages at the many minor villages which stud the shore at intervals of every few miles.

These malaga by boat along the coast or from one island to another are much in favour with many of the white residents of Samoa, who find their life in Apia very monotonous.  European ladies frequently accompany their husbands, and sometimes quite a large party is made up.  More than five-and-twenty years ago, when the writer was gaining his first experiences of Samoan life, it was his good fortune to be one of such a party, and a right merry time he had of it among the natives; for in those days, although there was party warfare occasionally, the group was free from the savage hatreds and dissensions—­largely fomented by the interference and intrigues of unscrupulous traders and incapable officials—­which for the past ten or twelve years have made it notorious.

In travelling in Samoa one need not always rely upon native hospitality.  Though most of the white traders at the outlying villages nowadays make nothing beyond a scanty living, they are as a rule very hospitable and pleased to see and entertain white visitors as well as their poor means will allow, and in nine cases out of ten would feel hurt if they were ignored and the native teacher’s house visited first; for between the average trader and the native teacher there is always a natural and yet reasonable jealousy.  And here let me say a word in praise of the Samoan teacher—­in Samoa.  Away from his native land, in charge of a mission station in another part of Polynesia or Melanesia, he is too often pompous and overbearing alike to his flock and to the white trader.  Here he is far from the control and supervision of the white missionaries, who only visit him twice in the year, and consequently he thinks himself a man of vast importance.  But in Samoa his superiors are prompt to curb any inclination he may evince to ride the high horse over his flock or interfere with