Little men are sometimes very potent, and rags sometimes cover very extensive pretensions.

In fact, this funny little image was the 'crack' god of the island; lording it over all the wooden lubbers who looked so grim and dreadful; its name was Moa Artua*.

And it was in honour of Moa Artua, and for the entertainment of those who believe in him, that the curious ceremony I am about to describe was observed.
*The word 'Artua', although having some other significations, is in nearly all the Polynesian dialects used as the general designation of the gods.
Mehevi and the chieftains of the Ti have just risen from their noontide slumbers.

There are no affairs of state to dispose of; and having eaten two or three breakfasts in the course of the morning, the magnates of the valley feel no appetite as yet for dinner.

How are their leisure moments to be occupied?
They smoke, they chat, and at last one of their number makes a proposition to the rest, who joyfully acquiescing, he darts out of the house, leaps from the pi-pi, and disappears in the grove.