wound.  The Samoans showed themselves extremely enterprising:  pushed their lines forward, ventured beyond cover, and continually threatened to envelop the garden.  Thrice, at least, it was necessary to repel them by a sally.  The men were brought into the house from the rear, the front doors were thrown suddenly open, and the gallant blue-jackets issued cheering:  necessary, successful, but extremely costly sorties.  Neither could these be pushed far.  The foes were undaunted; so soon as the sailors advanced at all deep in the horse-pasture, the Samoans began to close in upon both flanks; and the sally had to be recalled.  To add to the dangers of the German situation, ammunition began to run low; and the cartridge-boxes of the wounded and the dead had been already brought into use before, at about eight o’clock, the Eber steamed into the bay.  Her commander, Wallis, threw some shells into Letongo, one of which killed five men about their cooking-pot.  The Samoans began immediately to withdraw; their movements were hastened by a sortie, and the remains of the landing-party brought on board.  This was an unfortunate movement; it gave an irremediable air of defeat to what might have been else claimed for a moderate success.  The blue-jackets numbered a hundred and forty all told; they were engaged separately and fought under the worst conditions, in the dark and among woods; their position in the house was scarce tenable; they lost in killed and wounded fifty-six,—­forty per cent.; and their spirit to the end was above question.  Whether we think of the poor sailor lads, always so pleasantly behaved in times of peace, or whether we call to mind the behaviour of the two civilians, Haideln and Hufnagel, we can only regret that brave men should stand to be exposed upon so poor a quarrel, or lives cast away upon an enterprise so hopeless.

News of the affair reached Apia early, and Moors, always curious of these spectacles of war, was immediately in the saddle.  Near Matafangatele he met a Manono chief, whom he asked if there were any German dead.  “I think there are about thirty of them knocked over,” said he.  “Have you taken their heads?” asked Moors.  “Yes,” said the chief.  “Some foolish people did it, but I have stopped them.  We ought not to cut off their heads when they do not cut off ours.”  He was asked what had been done with the heads.  “Two have gone to Mataafa,” he replied, “and one is buried right under where your horse is standing, in a basket wrapped in tapa.”  This was afterwards dug up, and I am told on native authority that, besides the three heads, two ears were taken.  Moors next asked the Manono man how he came to be going away.  “The man-of-war is throwing shells,” said he.  “When they stopped firing out of the house, we stopped firing also; so it was as well to scatter when the shells began.  We could have killed all the white men.  I wish they had been Tamaseses.”  This is an ex parte statement, and I give it for