Summary

Portrait of Louis Becke Louis Becke The Call of the South

I said to the teacher, “walk with me round the island. I would once more look upon the lagoon and sit with you a little while as we have sat many times before, under the great toa tree that grows upon the point on the weather side.”
And so we two passed out of the mission house, and hand in hand, like children, went into the quiet village and along the sandy path that wound through the vista of serried, grey-boled palms, till we came to the white, inner beach of the calm lagoon, which shone and glistened like burnished silver. On the beach were some canoes.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Louis Becke Louis Becke The Call of the South

In an instant, men, women and children were on their feet. Torches of dried coco-nut leaves were deftly woven by the women, sleeping mats rolled up and given to the children to carry, baskets of cold baked fish and vegetables hurriedly taken down from where they hung under the eaves of the thatched huts, and away we trooped eastward along the narrow path, the red glare of the torches shining upon the smooth, copper-bronzed and half-nude figures of the native men and women.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Louis Becke Louis Becke The Call of the South

They are ships at anchor. Six leagues to the westward the white line of reef trends away from the shore, makes a sharp turn, and then runs southward. Within this bend the water is a brilliant green, and resting upon it are two small islands. One is Manono, a veritable garden, lined with strips of shining beaches and fringed with cocos. It is the home of the noble families of Samoa, and most of the past great chiefs are buried there. Beyond is the small but lofty crater island of Apolima—a place ever impregnable to assault by natives.
Source: Gutenberg

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