its time as accurately as a railroad train. Two hours before, the island had been in sight, and long before turning into the harbor we skirted the island so closely that we could see children waving at us from the shore. The island is mountainous, but along the shore were many villages of grass-covered houses, and many groves of cocoanut trees. The harbor of Pago Pago is completely land-locked, and has deep water, but the mountains surrounding it are very high, and we found the weather very warm. As we approached the dock we passed the little gunboat "Princeton," the captain of which acts as governor of American Samoa. His crew comprises the defensive force, except that fifty natives are employed by our government to act as police. These men receive a dollar a day, and the sons of the most aristocratic native chiefs are anxious to enlist. The entire native population of Tutuila and Manua, the two islands we control, is seven thousand, whereas the total white population is only a hundred. This is made up largely of the crew of the "Princeton." Mail is received from home only once a month, and as the "Sonoma" was their Christmas boat, you can imagine that nearly all of the white population greeted our landing. Packages of newspapers were thrown out before the lines were made fast, and soon there was cheering: we brought the news that the naval school at Annapolis won the football game from Hartford. Mingling with the white men and women of the naval establishment were hundreds of natives, who looked a good deal like our Indians, except that they were better dressed. One swell we saw was barefoot, and carried a cane. The officers told us he was the head
