In order to visit one of the typical, large settlements of these natives, let us say near Fife Bay, on the South coast, or on the island of Sariba, or Roge’a, it would be best to go ashore in some big, sheltered bay, or on one of the extensive beaches at the foot of a hilly island. We enter a clear, lofty grove, composed of palms, bread fruit, mangoes, and other fruit trees, often with a sandy subsoil, well weeded-out and clean, where grow clumps of ornamental bushes, such as the red-flowering hybiscus, croton or aromatic shrub. Here we find the village.
Fascinating as may be the Motuan habitations standing on high piles in the middle of a lagoon, or the neat streets of an Aroma or Mailu settlement, or the irregular warren of small huts on the Trobriand coast, all these cannot compete in picturesqueness or charm with the villages of the Southern Massim. When, on a hot day, we enter the deep shadow of fruit trees and palms, and find ourselves in the midst of the wonderfully designed and ornamented houses hiding here and there in irregular groups among the green, surrounded by little decorative gardens of shells and flowers, with pebble-bordered paths and stone-paved sitting circles, it seems as if the visions of a primeval, happy, savage life were suddenly realised, even if only in a fleeting impression.
Big bodies of canoes are drawn high up the beach and covered with palm leaves; here and there nets are drying, spread out on special stands, and on the platforms in front of the houses sit groups of men and women, busy at some domestic work, smoking and chatting.
