I looked round to see whether I could possibly be in Polynesia. There
were the palm-trees; but how to account for the lady?
Stepping to one side as the apparition drew near, I made a polite
obeisance. It gave me a bold, rosy look; and then, with a gay air,
patted its palfrey, crying out, "Fly away, Willie!" and galloped
among the trees.
I would have followed; but Willie's heels were making such a pattering
among the dry leaves that pursuit would have been useless.
So I went straight home to Po-Po's, and related my adventure to the
doctor.
The next day, our inquiries resulted in finding out that the stranger
had been on the island about two years; that she came from Sydney;
and was the wife of Mr. Bell (happy dog!), the proprietor of the
sugar plantation to which I have previously referred.
To the sugar plantation we went, the same day.
The country round about was very beautiful: a level basin of verdure,
surrounded by sloping hillsides. The sugar-cane - of which there was
about one hundred acres, in various stages of cultivation - looked
thrifty. A considerable tract of land, however, which seemed to have
been formerly tilled, was now abandoned.
The place where they extracted the saccharine matter was under an
immense shed of bamboos. Here we saw several clumsy pieces of
machinery for breaking the cane; also great kettles for boiling the
sugar.
