equal to that of other similar regions. In the dense tropical forests, which cover large areas, tree ferns, screw pines, and a multitude of other strange forms contend with one another for the light of day, while affording nourishment to an immense variety of epiphytic mosses, lianas, and ferns, which connect the larger stems and branches with an almost impenetrable network of green.
There are few really indigenous species of animals; rats and flying foxes being the only mammals. As to the others now found here, the names by which they are known point to their European origin; thus we have seepi (sheep), goti (goat), collie (dog), pussi (cat), etc. Even the hogs and fowls which run wild in the jungles came originally from the Friendly Islands, where they were introduced by the early navigators.
Living in such a little world as this, the Fijians were of necessity much in advance of the races inhabiting the neighboring Pacific islands. The struggle for securing and holding this fair domain must of itself have led to its possession by a superior race. We find evidences of this superiority not only in the splendid physical development of the Fijians, but also in their relatively advanced religious notions and in their rather elaborate system of mythology. One traveler has likened this people, in some respects, to the primitive Greeks. If we compare the petty maritime enterprises celebrated in Fijian song and story with those recorded by the early Greek poets, we may imagine the difference to be in some measure due to the difference in character of the two archipelagoes which were their respective scenes of action. Upon taking the trouble to translate certain books of Homer into Fijian it was found that their recital was listened to by a company of these untutored savages with the most appreciative attention. This fact certainly speaks well for the mental quality of the race. The one foul blot upon the character of the Fijians was their cannibalism; but, in view of the readiness with which they have abandoned this practice, now that animal food can be easily obtained, we must hold Nature responsible, not only for this curse, but also for the many other barbarities attending it.
The national character of Fiji finds its best expression in the songs once common among the natives, but now, under Christian influences, almost obsolete. . These songs or mekkés, as they are called, generally recount the story of some ancient hero, of some military campaign or naval expedition, or perhaps of a peaceful fishing excursion. They are generally sung of evenings by the men only, who assemble for the purpose in one of their long, low huts. Here they sit in solemn state on mats laid upon the ground, the only light being that of a smoky fire in one end. According
