Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from Samoa and Its Story
By sunset we had passed through the storied strait of Manono, separating the rounded island of that name and the curiously shaped volcanic crater-isle of Apolima from massive Savaii, and were coasting Apia-wards along Upolu's shores with the fringing reef gleaming white with surf on the starboard side. Apolima was a place to fascinate; even a fleeting view made one long to land and explore it. It is a small place, not much more than a mile in diameter but it is a natural fortress, a long-dead volcano, submerged until only its upper part remains above the ocean; one side of the great crater - now filled with luxuriant vegetation - slashed down so that the sea flows in by a narrow passage, and fills the hollow with a. Calm lagoon. There is no entrance but this one narrow sea-passage. For else where the island presents precipitous, dark, rocky ramparts, quite unscalable. Apolima may be likened to an immense cup, with one side broken out; the Samoans compared it to the upturned hollow palmbf the hand. And this is how it received its name, Apolima. Which means The Hollowed Hand, or Spear-poising Hand. A small, but unconquerable, tribe lives on the lakelike lagoon-side, under its sheltering palms. These men have held Apolima, and can still hold it, against a host. Nothing but artillery would shift them from this cuppedretreat, a hollow Iotos land if ever there was om, standing like a sentry-crag at the gateway to the much coveted islands of Samoa. Then. Skirting the Upolu coast, as night came down, we saw the land-lights burning on this strange new tropic world. Later we came to know that the lights we saw, as if those of fairy Venices, were the fishermen's torches. Flying-fish catching at night is the Samoan Islander's favourite sport. When the cool evening time comes, the canoes are launched, and with blazing torches the crews paddle to and fro, with their hand-nets capturing the foolish flying fish as they come leaping towards the light. In fine weather all round the coasts of these isles of Polynesia, as you sail along outside the fringing reefs, you will see inshore the torchlights of the fishing canoes, dancing like so many fireflies in the gloom of the splendid trepic night. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.
