every point of land.  There is no thought in this of saving time, for they will pull a long way in to skirt a point that is embayed.  It seems that, as they can never get their houses near enough the surf upon the one side, so they can never get their boats near enough upon the other.  The practice in bold water is not so dangerous as it looks—­the reflex from the rocks sending the boat off.  Near beaches with a heavy run of sea, I continue to think it very hazardous, and find the composure of the natives annoying to behold.  We took unmingled pleasure, on the way out, to see so near at hand the beach and the wonderful colours of the surf.  On the way back, when the sea had risen and was running strong against us, the fineness of the steersman’s aim grew more embarrassing.  As we came abreast of the sea-front, where the surf broke highest, Kauanui embraced the occasion to light his pipe, which then made the circuit of the boat—­each man taking a whiff or two, and, ere he passed it on, filling his lungs and cheeks with smoke.  Their faces were all puffed out like apples as we came abreast of the cliff foot, and the bursting surge fell back into the boat in showers.  At the next point ‘cocanetti’ was the word, and the stroke borrowed my knife, and desisted from his labours to open nuts.  These untimely indulgences may be compared to the tot of grog served out before a ship goes into action.

My purpose in this visit led me first to the boys’ school, for Hatiheu is the university of the north islands.  The hum of the lesson came out to meet us.  Close by the door, where the draught blew coolest, sat the lay brother; around him, in a packed half-circle, some sixty high-coloured faces set with staring eyes; and in the background of the barn-like room benches were to be seen, and blackboards with sums on them in chalk.  The brother rose to greet us, sensibly humble.  Thirty years he had been there, he said, and fingered his white locks as a bashful child pulls out his pinafore.  ’Et point de resultats, monsieur, presque pas de resultats.’  He pointed to the scholars:  ’You see, sir, all the youth of Nuka-hiva and Ua-pu.  Between the ages of six and fifteen this is all that remains; and it is but a few years since we had a hundred and twenty from Nuka-hiva alone.  Oui, monsieur, cela se deperit.’  Prayers, and reading and writing, prayers again and arithmetic, and more prayers to conclude:  such appeared to be the dreary nature of the course.  For arithmetic all island people have a natural taste.  In Hawaii they make good progress in mathematics.  In one of the villages on Majuro, and generally in the Marshall group, the whole population sit about the trader when he is weighing copra, and each on his own slate takes down the figures and computes the total.  The trader, finding them so apt, introduced fractions, for which they had been taught no rule.  At first they were quite gravelled but ultimately, by sheer hard thinking, reasoned out the result, and came one