[Note: this transcription was produced by an automatic OCR engine]

44 WITH NATIVES IN THE WESTERN PACIFIC

at midnight a long row of full sacks stood in the
shed. We stopped the work and told the boys to
go to sleep. But the demon of dancing had taken
hold of them, and they kept it up all night, and then
went straight to work in the fields when the sun rose.
By the third evening everything was ready for the
arrival of the Pacific, and the boys were deadly tired
and lame.

We were just sitting down to dinner one dull,
heavy night, when we heard a steamer’s long, rough
whistle. The Pacific. Everyone jumps up in ex—
citement, for the Pacific brings a taste of civilization,
and her arrival marks the end of a busy week and
breaks the monotony of daily life. We run to the
shore and light strong lamps at fixed points, to in—
dicate the anchorage, and then we rush back to finish
dinner and put on clean clothes. Meanwhile, the boys
have been roused, and they arrive, sleepy, stiff and
unwilling, aware that a hard night’s work is before
them, loading the produce into the tenders.

The steamer approaches quickly, enormous and
gay in the darkness, then she slowly feels her way
into the harbour, the anchor falls, and after a few
oscillations the long line of brightly lit portholes lies
quiet on the water, only their reflection flickers
irregularly on the waves through the night. In all -
directions we can see the lights of the approaching
boats of the planters, who come to announce their
shipments and to spend a gay evening on board.
There are always some passengers on the steamer,
planters from other islands on their way to Vila or