Presently we pass a native "camp" under an overhanging rock: it consists of a few parallel sticks, on which the native sleeps as well as any European on a spring-mattress, and a hollow in the ground, with a number of cooking-stones.
After a stiff climb we stop for our meal, then follow a path which gradually widens and improves, a sign that we are nearing a village. Towards evening we come to some gardens, where the natives plant their yam and taro. At the entrance of the village I make my boys close up ranks; although the natives are not supposed to be hostile, my people show signs of uneasiness, keeping close together and carrying the few weapons we have very conspicuously.
We cross the village square to the gamal, a simple place, as they all are, with a door about a yard from the ground, in order to keep out the pigs which roam all over the village. In line with the front of the house is a row of tall bamboo posts, wound with vines; their hollow interior is filled with yam and taro, the remains of a great feast. The village seems quite deserted, and we peep cautiously into the interior of the gamal, where, after a while, we discern a man, lying on the damp and dirty ground, who stares at us in silent fright. He gets up and comes slowly out, and we can see that he has lost half of one foot from leprosy. From him the moli learns that the two chiefs are away at a great "sing-sing," and the rest of the men in the fields or in their wives' houses. There is nothing for us to do but sit down and wait, and be sniffed at by pigs, barked at by dogs and annoyed by fowls. The moli beats vigorously on one of the wooden drums that lie in the mud in front of the house. He has his own signal, which most of the natives know, so that all the country round is soon informed of his arrival.
One by one the men arrive, strolling towards the gamal as if unconscious of our presence; some of them greet one or the other of my boys whom they have met when visiting at the shore. Nearly all of them are sick with leprosy or elephantiasis or tuberculosis, and after the long rainy period they all have colds and coughs and suffer from rheumatism; altogether they present a sad picture of degeneration and misery, and there are few healthy men to be seen.