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would be more tedious still if I wasted my time upon such 

infantile and sucking…bottle details。  If ever I put in any 

such detail; it is because it leads into something or serves 

as a transition。  To tell it for its own sake; never!  The 

mistake is all through that I have told too much; I had not 

sufficient confidence in the reader; and have overfed him; 

and here are you anxious to learn how I … O Colvin!  Suppose 

it had made a book; all such information is given to one 

glance of an eye by a map with a little dotted line upon it。  

But let us forget this unfortunate affair。





WEDNESDAY。





Yesterday I went down to consult Clarke; who took the view of 

delay。  Has he changed his mind already?  I wonder: here at 

least is the news。  Some little while back some men of Manono 

… what is Manono? … a Samoan rotten borough; a small isle of 

huge political importance; heaven knows why; where a handful 

of chiefs make half the trouble in the country。  Some men of 

Manono (which is strong Mataafa) burned down the houses and 

destroyed the crops of some Malietoa neighbours。  The 

President went there the other day and landed alone on the 

island; which (to give him his due) was plucky。  Moreover; he 

succeeded in persuading the folks to come up and be judged on 

a particular day in Apia。  That day they did not come; but 

did come the next; and; to their vast surprise; were given 

six months' imprisonment and clapped in gaol。  Those who had 

accompanied them cried to them on the streets as they were 

marched to prison; 'Shall we rescue you?'  The condemned; 

marching in the hands of thirty men with loaded rifles; cried 

out 'No'!  And the trick was done。  But it was ardently 

believed a rescue would be attempted; the gaol was laid about 

with armed men day and night; but there was some question of 

their loyalty; and the commandant of the forces; a very nice 

young beardless Swede; became nervous; and conceived a plan。  

How if he should put dynamite under the gaol; and in case of 

an attempted rescue blow up prison and all?  He went to the 

President; who agreed; he went to the American man…of…war for 

the dynamite and machine; was refused; and got it at last 

from the Wreckers。  The thing began to leak out; and there 

arose a muttering in town。  People had no fancy for amateur 

explosions; for one thing。  For another; it did not clearly 

appear that it was legal; the men had been condemned to six 

months' prison; which they were peaceably undergoing; they 

had not been condemned to death。  And lastly; it seemed a 

somewhat advanced example of civilisation to set before 

barbarians。  The mutter in short became a storm; and 

yesterday; while I was down; a cutter was chartered; and the 

prisoners were suddenly banished to the Tokelaus。  Who has 

changed the sentence?  We are going to stir in the dynamite 

matter; we do not want the natives to fancy us consenting to 

such an outrage。



Fanny has returned from her trip; and on the whole looks 

better。  The HIGH WOODS are under way; and their name is now 

the BEACH OF FALESA; and the yarn is cured。  I have about 

thirty pages of it done; it will be fifty to seventy I 

suppose。  No supernatural trick at all; and escaped out of it 

quite easily; can't think why I was so stupid for so long。  

Mighty glad to have Fanny back to this 'Hell of the South 

Seas;' as the German Captain called it。  What will 

Cedarcrantz think when he comes back?  To do him justice; had 

he been here; this Manono hash would not have been。



Here is a pretty thing。  When Fanny was in Fiji all the Samoa 

and Tokelau folks were agog about our 'flash' house; but the 

whites had never heard of it。





ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON;

Author of THE BEACH OF FALESA。







CHAPTER XI







SEPT。 28。





MY DEAR COLVIN;  … Since I last laid down my pen; I have 

written and rewritten THE BEACH OF FALESA; something like 

sixty thousand words of sterling domestic fiction (the story; 

you will understand; is only half that length); and now I 

don't want to write any more again for ever; or feel so; and 

I've got to overhaul it once again to my sorrow。  I was all 

yesterday revising; and found a lot of slacknesses and (what 

is worse in this kind of thing) some literaryisms。  One of 

the puzzles is this: It is a first person story … a trader 

telling his own adventure in an island。  When I began I 

allowed myself a few liberties; because I was afraid of the 

end; now the end proved quite easy; and could be done in the 

pace; so the beginning remains about a quarter tone out (in 

places); but I have rather decided to let it stay so。  The 

problem is always delicate; it is the only thing that worries 

me in first person tales; which otherwise (quo' Alan) 'set 

better wi' my genius。'  There is a vast deal of fact in the 

story; and some pretty good comedy。  It is the first 

realistic South Sea story; I mean with real South Sea 

character and details of life。  Everybody else who has tried; 

that I have seen; got carried away by the romance; and ended 

in a kind of sugar…candy sham epic; and the whole effect was 

lost … there was no etching; no human grin; consequently no 

conviction。  Now I have got the smell and look of the thing a 

good deal。  You will know more about the South Seas after you 

have read my little tale than if you had read a library。  As 

to whether any one else will read it; I have no guess。  I am 

in an off time; but there is just the possibility it might 

make a hit; for the yarn is good and melodramatic; and there 

is quite a love affair … for me; and Mr。 Wiltshire (the 

narrator) is a huge lark; though I say it。  But there is 

always the exotic question; and everything; the life; the 

place; the dialects … trader's talk; which is a strange 

conglomerate of literary expressions and English and American 

slang; and Beach de Mar; or native English; … the very trades 

and hopes and fears of the characters; are all novel; and may 

be found unwelcome to that great; hulking; bullering whale; 

the public。



Since I wrote; I have been likewise drawing up a document to 

send it to the President; it has been dreadfully delayed; not 

by me; but to…day they swear it will be sent in。  A list of 

questions about the dynamite report are herein laid before 

him; and considerations suggested why he should answer。





OCTOBER 5TH。





Ever since my last snatch I have been much chivied about over 

the President business; his answer has come; and is an 

evasion accompanied with schoolboy insolence; and we are 

going to try to answer it。  I drew my answer and took it down 

yesterday; but one of the signatories wants another paragraph 

added; which I have not yet been able to draw; and as to the 

wisdom of which I am not yet convinced。





NEXT DAY; OCT。 7TH; THE RIGHT DAY。





We are all in rather a muddled state with our President 

affair。  I do loathe politics; but at the same time; I cannot 

stand by and have the natives blown in the air treacherously 

with dynamite。  They are still quiet; how long this may 

continue I do not know; though of course by mere prescription 

the Government is strengthened; and is probably insured till 

the next taxes fall due。  But the unpopularity of the whites 

is growing。  My native overseer; the great Henry Simele; 

announced to…day that he was 'weary of whites upon the beach。  

All too proud;' said this veracious witness。  One of the 

proud ones had threatened yesterday to cut off his head with 

a bush knife!  These are 'native outrages'; honour bright; 

and setting theft aside; in which the natives are active; 

this is the main stream of irritation。  The natives are 

generally courtly; far from always civil; but really gentle; 

and with a strong sense of honour of their own; and certainly 

quite as much civilised as our dynamiting President。



We shall be delighted to see Kipling。  I go to bed usually 

about half…past eight; and my lamp is out before ten; I 

breakfast at six。  We may say roughly we have no soda water 

on the island; and just now truthfully no whisky。  I HAVE 

heard the chimes at midnight; now no more; I guess。  BUT … 

Fanny and I; as soon as we can get coins for it; are coming 

to Europe; not to England: I am thinking of Royat。  Bar wars。  

If not; perhaps the Apennines might give us a mountain refuge 

for two months or three in summer。  How is that for high?  

But the money must be all in hand first。





OCTOBER 13TH。





How am I to describe my life these last few days?  I have 

been wholly swallowed up in politics; a wretched business; 

with fine elements of farce in it too; which repay a man in 

passing; involving many dark and many moonlight rides; secret 

counsels which are at once divulged; sealed letters which are 

read aloud in confidence to the neighbours; and a mass of 


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