SHOWS HOW SOUTH SEA MISSIONARIES DO THEIR WORK, AND THAT IF THE WHITES
CAN SURPRISE THE NATIVES THE LATTER CAN SOMETIMES ASTONISH THE WHITES!
For three months did Wandering Will and his friends remain concealed in
the mountains. Of course they were pursued and diligently sought for by
the natives, and undoubtedly they would have been discovered had the
search been continued for any length of time, but to their great
surprise, after the first week of their flight, the search was
apparently given up. At all events, from that period they saw nothing
more of the natives, and gradually became more fearless in venturing to
ramble from the cave in search of food. They puzzled over the matter
greatly, for, to say the least of it, there appeared to be something
mysterious in the total indifference so suddenly manifested towards them
by the savages; but although many were the guesses made, they were very
far from hitting on the real cause.
During this period they subsisted on the numerous fruits and vegetables
which grew wild in great abundance on the island, and spent their days
in gathering them and hunting wild pigs and snaring birds. As Larry was
wont to observe with great satisfaction, and, usually, with his mouth
full of victuals--
"Sure it's the hoith o' livin' we have--what with cocky-nuts, an' taros
an' bananas, an' young pigs for the killin', an' ginger-beer for the
drinkin', an' penny loaves growin' on the trees for nothin', wid no end
o' birds, an' pots ready bilin', night an' day, to cook 'em in--och! it
would be hiven intirely but for the dirty savages, bad luck to 'em!"
There was more truth in Larry's remark than may be apparent at first
sight. Vegetation was not only prolific and beautiful everywhere, but
exceedingly fruitful. The bread-fruit tree in particular supplied them
with more than they required of a substance that was nearly as palatable
and nutritious as bread. Captain Dall fortunately knew the method of
cooking it in an oven, for the uncooked fruit is not eatable. The milk
of the young cocoa-nuts was what the facetious Irishman referred to
under the name of ginger-beer; but his remark about boiling pots was
literally correct. The summit of that mountainous island was, as we
have already said, an active volcano, from which sulphurous fumes were
constantly issuing--sometimes gently, and occasionally with violence.
Several of the springs in the neighbourhood were hot--a few being almost
at the boiling point, so that it was absolutely possible to boil the
wild pigs and birds which they succeeded in capturing, without the use
of a fire! Strange to say, they also found springs of clear _cold_
water not far from the hot springs.
There is a species of thin tough bark round the upper part of the stem
of the cocoa-nut palm--a sort of natural cloth--which is much used by
the South Sea islanders. Of this they fashioned some rude but useful
garments.
"It seems curious, doesn't it," said Will Osten to Captain Dall, one
day, referring to these things and the beauty of the island, "that the
Almighty should make such a terrestrial paradise as this, and leave it
to be used, or rather abused, by such devils in human shape?"
"I'm not sure," answered the captain slowly, "that we are right in
saying that _He_ has left it to be so abused. I'm afraid that it is
_we_ who are to blame in the matter."
"How so?" exclaimed Will, in surprise.
"You believe the Bible to be the Word of God, don't you?" said Captain
Dall somewhat abruptly, "and that its tendency is to improve men?"
"Of _course_ I do; how can you ask such a question?"
"Did you ever," continued the captain pointedly, "hear of a text that
says something about going and teaching all nations, and have, you ever
given anything to send missionaries with the Bible to these islands?"
"I--I can't say I ever have," replied Will, with a smile and a slight
blush.
"No more have I, lad," said the captain, smiting his knee emphatically;
"the thought has only entered my head for the first time, but I _do_
think that it is _we_ who leave islands such as this to be abused by the
human devils you speak of, and who, moreover, are not a whit worse--nay,
not so bad--as many _civilised_ human devils, who, in times not long
past, and under the cloak of religion, have torn men and tender women
limb from limb, and bound them at the stake, and tortured them on the
rack, in order to make them swallow a false creed."
This was the commencement of one of the numerous discussions on
religion, philosophy, and politics, with which the echoes of that cavern
were frequently awakened after the somewhat fatiguing labours of each
day's chase were over, for a true Briton is the same everywhere. He is
a reasoning (if you will, an argumentative) animal, and our little band
of fugitives in those mountain fastnesses was no exception to the rule.
Meanwhile, two events occurred at the native village which require
notice. Their occurrence was not observed by our friends in hiding,
because the summit of the mountain completely shut out their view in
that direction, and they never wandered far from their place of retreat.
The first event was very sad, and is soon told. One morning a schooner
anchored off the village, and a party of armed seamen landed, the leader
of whom, through the medium of an interpreter, had an interview with the
chief. He wished to be permitted to cut sandal-wood, and an agreement
was entered into. After a considerable quantity had been cut and sent
on board, the chief wanted payment. This was refused on some trivial
ground. The savages remonstrated. The white men threatened, and the
result was that the latter were driven into their boats. They pulled
off to their vessel, loaded a large brass gun that occupied the centre
of the schooner's deck, and sent a shower of cannister shot among the
savages, killing and wounding not only many of the men, but some of the
women and children who chanced to be on the skirt of the wood. They
then set sail, and, as they coasted along, fired into several villages,
the people of which had nothing to do with their quarrel.
Only a week after this event another little schooner anchored off the
village. It was a missionary ship, sent by the London Missionary
Society to spread the good news of salvation through Christ among the
people. Some time before, a native teacher--one who, on another island,
had embraced Christianity, and been carefully instructed in its leading
truths--had been sent to this island, and was well received; but, war
having broken out, the chief had compelled him to leave. A second
attempt was now being made, and this time an English missionary with his
wife and daughter were about to trust themselves in the hands of the
savages.
They could not have arrived at a worse time. The islanders, still
smarting under a sense of the wrong and cruelty so recently done them,
rushed upon the little boat of the schooner, brandishing clubs and
spears, the instant it touched the land, and it was with the utmost
difficulty that the missionary prevailed on them to stay their hands and
give him a hearing. He soon explained the object of his visit, and, by
distributing a few presents, so far mollified the people that he was
allowed to land, but it was plain that they regarded him with distrust.
The tide was turned in the missionary's favour, however, by the runaway
sailor, Buchanan, or Bukawanga. That worthy happened at the time to be
recovering slowly from the effects of the wound he had received in the
fight, which had so nearly proved to be his last. On hearing of the
arrival of strangers he feared that the savages would kill them out of
revenge, and hastened, weak and ill though he was, to meet, and, if
possible, protect them. His efforts were successful. He managed to
convince the natives that among Christians there were two classes--those
who merely called themselves by the name, and those who really did their
best to practise Christianity; that the sandal-wood traders probably did
not even pretend to the name, but that those who had just arrived would
soon give proof that they were of a very different spirit. The result
of this explanation was, that the chiefs agreed to receive the
missionary, who accordingly landed with his family, and with all that
was necessary for the establishment of a mission.
Those who have not read of missionary enterprise in the South Seas can
form no conception of the difficulties that missionaries have to contend
with, and the dangers to which they are exposed on the one hand, and, on
the other, the rapidity with which success is sometimes vouchsafed to
them. In some instances, they have passed years in the midst of
idolatry and bloody rites, the mere recital of which causes one to
shudder, while their lives have hung on the caprice of a volatile chief;
at other times God has so signally blessed their efforts that a whole
tribe has adopted Christianity in the course of a few weeks.
Misunderstand us not, reader. We do not say that they all became true
Christians; nevertheless it is a glorious fact that such changes have
occurred; that idolatry has been given up and Christianity embraced
within that short period, and that the end has been the civilisation of
the people; doubtless, also, the salvation of some immortal souls.
In about two months after their arrival a marvellous change had taken
place in the village.
The natives, like very children, came with delight to be taught the use
of the white man's tools, and to assist in clearing land and building a
cottage. When this was finished, a small church was begun. It was this
busy occupation that caused the savages to forget, for a time, the very
existence of Wandering Will and his friends; and if Bukawanga thought of
them, it was to conclude that they had taken refuge with one of the
tribes on the other side of the island.
That which seemed to amuse and delight the natives most in the new
arrivals was the clothing which was distributed among them. They proved
very untractable, however, in the matter of putting it on. One man
insisted on putting the body of a dress which had been meant for his
wife on his own nether limbs--thrusting his great feet through the
sleeves, and thereby splitting them to the shoulder. Another tied a
tippet round his waist, and a woman was found strutting about in a pair
of fisherman's boots, and a straw bonnet with the back to the front!
One of the chiefs thus absurdly arrayed was the means of letting the
fugitive white men have an idea that something strange had occurred at
the village. This man had appropriated a scarlet flannel petticoat
which had been presented to his mother, and, putting it on with the
waist-band tied round his neck, sallied forth to hunt in the mountains.
He was suddenly met by Larry O'Hale and Will Osten.
"Musha! 'tis a ow-rangy-tang!" cried the Irishman.
His companion burst into a fit of loud laughter. The terrified native
turned to flee, but Larry darted after him, tripped up his heels, and
held him down.
"Kape quiet, won't ye?" he said, giving the struggling man a severe
punch on the chest.
The savage thought it best to obey. Being allowed to get on his legs he
was blindfolded, and then, with Will grasping him on one side, and the
Irishman on the other, he was led up to the mountain-cave, and
introduced to the family circle there, just as they were about to sit
down to their mid-day meal.