I trust, my friends," he added, looking earnestly into
our faces--"I trust that if you ever return to England, you will tell
your Christian friends that the horrors which they hear of in regard to
these islands are _literally true,_ and that when they have heard
the worst, the _'half has not been told them;'_ for there are
perpetrated here foul deeds of darkness of which man may not speak. You
may also tell them," he said, looking around with a smile, while a tear
of gratitude trembled in his eye and rolled down his coal-black cheek
--"tell them of the blessings that the Gospel has wrought _here_!"
We assured our friend that we would certainly not forget his request.
On returning towards the village, about noon, we remarked on the
beautiful whiteness of the cottages.
"That is owing to the lime with which they are plastered," said the
teacher. "When the natives were converted, as I have described, I set
them to work to build cottages for themselves, and also this handsome
church which you see. When the framework and other parts of the house
were up, I sent the people to fetch coral from the sea. They brought
immense quantities. Then I made them cut wood, and piling the coral
above it, set it on fire.
"'Look! look!' cried the poor people in amazement, 'what wonderful
people the Christians are! He is roasting stones. We shall not need
taro or bread-fruit any more; we may eat stones!'
"But their surprise was still greater when the coral was reduced to a
fine, soft white powder.
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