THE VALLEY OF MARTAIR WE went up through groves to an open space, where we heard voices, and a light was seen glimmering from out a bamboo dwelling.

It was the planters' retreat; and in their absence, several girls were keeping house, assisted by an old native, who, wrapped up in tappa, lay in the corner, smoking.
A hasty meal was prepared, and after it we essayed a nap; but, alas! a plague, little anticipated, prevented.

Unknown in Tahiti, the mosquitoes here fairly eddied round us.

But more of them anon.
We were up betimes, and strolled out to view the country.

We were in the valley of Martair; shut in, on both sides, by lofty hills.