the night on” and not have so long to wait till morning!
December 1900.
When I rose in the morning I hastened on deck to see what this new land was like. The gale still continued in heavy squalls alternating with quiescent lulls, the dying throes of the great monsoon. There was a very heavy swell and a tumultuous surf. It was a beautiful scene. A great mass of green cocoanut palms bordered the high green bank which descended steeply to the surf-beaten shore, and hills of considerable height formed a background. Amongst the palms a few wooden houses, looking neat and pretty from the ship, but somewhat primitive, appeared irregularly, and at one end, some distance from what was actually Herbertshöhe, rose the large Catholic churchsurroundedby the many wooden-verandahed buildings of the Mission. The church appeared to be a most substantial, almost imposing, building of stone—in reality it is of wood and corrugated iron painted in imitation of stone.
We have come through the worst monsoon that has been known for over seven years. The damage it has done has been great. The small piers have all been wrecked, the boats dashed ashore and carried by the wind inland in a shattered condition, and the small steamboat belonging to the Mission is also ashore. The settlement has been badly selected, and is open to every storm. It is, however, a beautiful spot.
Such boats as could manage it were soon battling through the surf to the Stettin, the arrival of which with the mails is a great event. As they approached, the occupants cried shrilly,
