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

248 WITH NATIVES IN THE WESTERN PACIFIC

returns to his corner silent, but evidently satisfied.
His wife cannot quite hide a smile of pride.

The stranger now squeezes the cocoa—nut gratings
over a wooden bowl, and a creamy juice runs through
his fingers. The bowl is brought to Agelan, who
looks at it as if reading an oracle; then he selects a
hot stone from his own fire, and sends the bowl back
to be embedded in the gratings. He approaches with
his stone in a wooden fork, and squats down near the
bowl lost in thought, as if anxious not to miss the
right moment; then he drops the stone into the milk,
which hisses, bubbles and steams. A fine smell of
burnt fat is noticeable; and while the liquid thickens,
Agelan behaves as if he could perform miracles and
was in league with supernatural powers. After a
while his wife hands him the bowl, and he holds it
over the pudding, undecided how and where to pour
the milk; one would think the fate and welfare of
creation depended on his action. Being a man of
energy, he makes up his mind, and pours one stream
right across the pudding, then empties his bowl and
retires with a sigh to his seat. About ten more
bowlfuls are needed, but these are poured by Mrs.
Agelan without further ceremony. The solemn hush
is over. With a long bush-knife, Mama cuts the
pudding into strips and squares and distributes it, and
the meal proceeds amid general satisfaction. I am
given a large slab; fortunately it tastes very good
and is easily digestible, for politeness ordains that one ,
must eat enormous quantities. At one stage of the
proceedings the girls are sent to take some food to