The sufferings which Jarwin with his little dog had hitherto undergone
were as nothing compared to those which he endured for some months after
being taken prisoner by the savages. At first he gave himself up for
lost, feeling assured that ere long he would be sacrificed in the temple
of one of their idols, and then baked in an oven and consumed as food,
according to the horrible practice of the South-Sea Islanders. Indeed
he began to be much astonished that, as day after day passed, there was
no sign of any intention to treat him in this way, although several
times the natives took him out of the hut in which he was imprisoned,
and, placing him in the centre of a circle, held excited and sometimes
angry discussions over him.
It was not till months afterwards, when he had acquired a slight
knowledge of their language, that he came to understand why he was
spared at this time. It appeared that four shipwrecked sailors, who had
been cast on a neighbouring island, had been killed, baked, and eaten,
according to usage, by the chief and his friends. Immediately
afterwards, those who had partaken of this dreadful food had been seized
with severe illness, and one or two had died. This fact had been known
for some time to Jarwin's captors, and the discussions above referred to
had been engaged in with reference to the question whether it was likely
that the flesh of the white man who had been thrown on their island
would be likely to disagree with their stomachs! It was agreed that
this was highly probable, and thus the seaman's life was spared; but he
was sometimes tempted to wish that it had not been spared, for his
master, the Big Chief, was a very hard man; he put him to the most
toilsome labour, and treated him with every sort of indignity.
Moreover, he was compelled to be a witness of practices so revolting and
cruel, that he often put the question to himself whether it was possible
for devils to display greater wickedness and depravity than these
people.
Jarwin was frequently tempted to resent the treatment he received, but,
fortunately, he was prudent enough to bear it submissively, for it is
certain that if he had rebelled he would have been slain on the spot.
Moreover, he set himself to carry out his favourite maxim--namely, that
it was wise in all circumstances to make the best of everything. He
laboured, therefore, with such goodwill, that he softened the breast of
the Big Chief, who gradually became more amiable, and even indulgent to
him. Thus he came to know experimentally the wisdom of that Scripture,
"Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good."
John Jarwin possessed a remarkably fine sonorous bass voice, which, in
former days, had been a source of great delight to his messmates.
Although strong and deep, it was very sweet and tender in its tones, and
eminently suited for pathetic and sentimental songs. Indeed Jarwin's
nature was so earnest, that although he had a great deal of quiet humour
about him, and could enjoy comic songs very much, he never himself sang
anything humorous. Now, it chanced that the Big Chief had a good ear
for music, and soon became so fond of the songs which his slave was wont
to hum when at work, that he used to make him sit down beside him
frequently and sing for hours at a time! Fortunately, Jarwin's lungs
were powerful, and his voice being full-toned and loud, he was able to
sing as much as his master desired without much exertion. He gave him
his whole budget which was pretty extensive--including melodies of the
"Black-eyed Susan" and "Ben Bolt" stamp. When these had been sung over
and over again, he took to the Psalms and Paraphrases--many of which he
knew by heart, and, finally, he had recourse to extempore composition,
which he found much easier than he had expected--the tones flowing
naturally and the words being gibberish! Thus he became a sort of David
to this remarkable Saul. By degrees, as he learnt the native tongue, he
held long conversations with the Big Chief, and told him about his own
land and countrymen and religion. In regard to the last the Chief was
very inquisitive, and informed his slave that white men had been for
some time in that region, trying to teach their religion to the men of
an island which, though invisible from his island, was not very far
distant. Jarwin said little about this, but from that time he began to
hope that, through the missionaries, he might be able to make his escape
ere long.
During all this time poor Cuffy experienced a variety of vicissitudes,
and made several narrow escapes. At first he had been caught and was on
the point of being killed and roasted, when he wriggled out of his
captor's grasp and made off to the mountains, terrorstruck! Here he
dwelt for some weeks in profound melancholy. Being unable to stand
separation from his master any longer, he ventured to return to the
village, but was immediately hunted out of it, and once again fled in
horror to the hills. Jarwin was not allowed to quit the village alone,
he therefore never saw his little dog, and at length came to the
conclusion that it had been killed. When, however, he had ingratiated
himself with his master, he was allowed more freedom, and one day,
having wandered a considerable distance into the mountains, he came
suddenly and unexpectedly upon Cuffy. Having experienced nothing from
man of late but the most violent and cruel treatment, Cuffy no sooner
beheld, as he supposed, one of his enemies, than, without giving him a
second glance, he sprang up, put his ears back, his tail between his
legs, and, uttering a terrible yell, fled "on the wings of terror!" But
Jarwin put two fingers in his mouth and gave a peculiarly shrill
whistle, which brought the dog to a sudden stop. He looked back with
ears cocked. Again Jarwin whistled. Instantly Cuffy turned and ran at
him with a series of mingled yells, whines, and barks, that gave but a
faint idea of his tumultuous feelings. It would scarcely be too much to
say that he almost ate his master up. He became like an india-rubber
ball gone mad! He bounded round him to such an extent that Jarwin found
it very difficult to get hold of or pat him. It is impossible to do
justice to such a meeting. We draw a veil over it, only remarking that
the sailor took his old favourite back to the village, and, after much
entreaty and a good deal of persuasive song, was permitted to keep him.
About ten months after this event, war broke out between the Big Chief
and a neighbouring tribe of natives, who were a very quarrelsome and
vindictive set. The tribe with whom Jarwin dwelt would gladly have
lived at peace, but the other tribe was stronger in numbers and thirsted
for conquest--a consequence of strength which is by no means confined to
savages!
When war was formally declared, the Big Chief told Jarwin to prepare
himself for battle. At first our hero had some qualms of conscience
about it, but on reflecting that on the part of the tribe to which he
belonged it was a war of self-defence, his conscience was pacified.
The Big Chief ordered him to throw away his now ragged garments, smear
his whole body over with oil and red earth, paint black spots on his
cheeks, and a white streak down his nose, and put on warrior's costume.
In vain Jarwin begged and protested and sang. The Big Chief's blood was
up, and his commands must be obeyed, therefore Jarwin did as he was bid;
went out to battle in this remarkable costume--if we may so style it--
and proved himself such a prodigy of valour that his prowess went far to
turn the tide of victory wherever he appeared during the fight. But we
pass over all this. Suffice it to say, that the pugnacious tribe was
severely chastised and reduced to a state of quiet--for the time at
least.
One day, not long after the cessation of the war, a canoe arrived with
several natives, all of whom wore clothing of a much more civilised
description than is usually seen among South-Sea savages. They had a
long, earnest talk with the natives, but Jarwin was not allowed to hear
it, or to show himself. Next day they went away. For some time after
that Big Chief was very thoughtful, but silent, and Jarwin could not
induce him to become confidential until he had sung all his melodies and
all his psalms several times over, and had indulged in extempore melody
and gibberish until his brain and throat were alike exhausted. The Big
Chief gave way at last, however, and told him that his late visitors
were Christians, who, with two native teachers, had been sent from a
distant island by a white chief named Williams, to try and persuade him
and his people to burn their idols.
"And are 'ee goin' to do it?" asked Jarwin.
"No," replied the Chief, "but I am going to Raratonga to see Cookee
Williams."
Of course they conversed in the native tongue, but as this would be
unintelligible to the reader, we translate. It may also be remarked
here that "Cookee" signified a white man, and is a word derived from the
visit of that great navigator Captain Cook to these islands, by the
natives of which he was ultimately murdered.
Jarwin had heard, while in England, of the missionary Williams. On
learning that he was among the islands, his heart beat high, and he
begged earnestly that he might be allowed to go with the chief and his
party to Raratonga, but his wily master would not consent "You will run
away!" he said.
"No, I won't," said Jarwin, earnestly. Big Chief shook his head. "They
will take you from me," he said, "when they find out who you are."
"I'll not let 'em," replied Jarwin, with pathetic sincerity, and then
began to sing in such a touching strain, that his master lay back on his
couch and rolled his large eyes in rapture.
"You shall go, Jowin," (that was the best he could make of the name),
"if you will make me a promise."
"Name it, old boy," said Jarwin.
"That you will go dressed like one of my young men, and never open your
lips to speak a word, no more than if you were dumb, whether the Cookees
speak to you or not."
Jarwin hesitated, but reflecting that there was no chance of his seeing
the missionary at all if he did not give this promise, he consented.
A week after that all the preparations were made, and four large canoes,
full of well-armed men, set out for Raratonga.
At the time we write of, the island of Raratonga had been recently
discovered by the missionary Williams. The success of the labours of
that devoted man and his native teachers, is one of the most marvellous
chapters in the history of the isles of the Pacific. At Raratonga, God
seemed to have prepared the way for the introduction of the Gospel in a
wonderful manner, for although the native teachers who first went ashore
there were roughly handled, they were enabled, nevertheless, to
persevere, and in not much more than a single year, the Gospel wrought a
change in the feelings and habits of the people, which was little short
of miraculous. Within that brief period they had given up and burnt all
their idols, had ceased to practise their bloody and horrible rites, and
had embraced Christianity--giving full proof of their sincerity by
submitting to a code of laws founded on Scripture, by agreeing to
abandon polygamy, by building a large place of worship, and by leading
comparatively virtuous and peaceful lives. And all this was begun and
carried on for a considerable time, not by the European missionaries but
by two of the devoted native teachers, who had previously embraced
Christianity.
The extent of the change thus wrought in the Raratongans in so short a
time by the Gospel, may be estimated by a glance at the difficulties
with which the missionaries had to contend. In writing of the ancient
usages of the people, Mr Williams, [See Williams' most interesting
work, entitled "A Narrative of Missionary Enterprises in the South-Sea
Islands"], tells us that one of their customs was an unnatural practice
called _Kukumi anga_. As soon as a son reached manhood, he would fight
and wrestle with his father for the mastery, and if he obtained it,
would take forcible possession of the farm belonging to his parent, whom
he drove in a state of destitution from his home. Another custom was
equally unnatural and inhuman. When a woman lost her husband, the
relatives of the latter, instead of paying visits of kindness to the
fatherless and widow in their affliction, would seize every article of
value belonging to the deceased, turn the disconsolate mother and her
children away, and possess themselves of the house, food, and land. But
they had another custom which caused still greater difficulties to the
missionaries. It was called "land-eating"--in other words, the getting
possession of each other's lands unjustly, and these, once obtained,
were held with the greatest possible tenacity, for land was exceedingly
valuable at Raratonga, and on no subject were the contentions of the
people more frequent or fierce.
From this it will be seen that the Raratongans were apparently a most
unpromising soil in which to plant the "good seed," for there is
scarcely another race of people on earth so depraved and unnatural as
they seem to have been. Nevertheless, God's blessed Word overcame these
deep-rooted prejudices, and put an end to these and many other horrible
practices in little more than a year.
After this glorious work had been accomplished, the energetic
missionary--who ultimately laid down his life in one of these islands
[_The Island of Erramanga_] for the sake of Jesus Christ--resolved to go
himself in search of other islands in which to plant the Gospel, and to
send out native teachers with the same end in view. The record of their
labours reads more like a romance than a reality, but we cannot afford
to diverge longer from the course of our narrative. It was one of these
searching parties of native teachers that had visited the Big Chief's
island as already described, and it was their glowing words and
representations that had induced him to undertake this voyage to
Raratonga.
Big Chief of course occupied the largest of the four canoes, and our
friend Jarwin sat on a seat in front of him--painted and decorated like
a native warrior, and wielding a paddle like the rest. Of course Cuffy
had been left behind.
Poor Jarwin had, during his captivity, undergone the process of being
tatooed from head to foot. It had taken several months to accomplish
and had cost him inexpressible torture, owing to the innumerable
punctures made by the comb-like instrument with which it was done on the
inflamed muscles of his body. By dint of earnest entreaty and much
song, he had prevailed on Big Chief to leave his face and hands
untouched. It is doubtful if he would have succeeded in this, despite
the witching power of his melodious voice, had he not at the same time
offered to paint his own face in imitation of tatooing, and accomplished
the feat to such perfection that his delighted master insisted on having
his own painted forthwith in the same style.
During a pause in their progress, while the paddlers were resting, Big
Chief made his captive sit near him.
"You tell me that Cookee-men" (by which he meant white men) "never lie,
never deceive."
"I shud lie an' deceive myself, if I said so," replied Jarwin, bluntly.
"What did you tell me, then?" asked the Chief, with a frown.
"I told you that _Christian_ men don't lie or deceive--leastwise they
don't do it with a will."
"Are _you_ a Christian man, Jowin?"
"I am," replied the sailor promptly. Then with a somewhat perplexed
air, "Anyhow I _hope_ I am, an' I try to act as sitch."
"Good, I will soon prove it. You will be near the Cookee-men of
Raratonga to-morrow. You will have chance to go with them and leave me;
but if you do, or if you speak one word of Cookee-tongue--you are _not_
Christian. Moreover, I will batter your skull with my club, till it is
like the soft pulp of the bread-fruit."
"You're a cute fellar, as the Yankees say," remarked Jarwin, with a
slight smile. This being said in English, the Chief took no notice of
it, but glanced at his slave suspiciously.
"Big Chief," said Jarwin, after a short silence, "even before I was a
Christian, I had been taught by my mother to be ashamed of telling a
lie, so you've no occasion for to doubt me. But it's a hard thing to
stand by a countryman, specially in my pecooliar circumstances, an' not
let him know that you can speak to him. May I not be allowed to palaver
a bit with 'em? I wont ask 'em to take me from you."
"No," said the Chief sternly. "You came with me promising that you
would not even speak to the Cookee-men."
"Well, Big Chief," replied Jarwin, energetically, "you shall see that a
British seaman can stick to his promise. I'll be true to you. Honour
bright. I'll not give 'em a word of the English lingo if they was to
try to tear it out o' me wi' red hot pincers. I'll content myself wi'
lookin' at 'em and listenin' to 'em. It'll be a comfort to hear my
mother-tongue, anyhow."
"Good," replied the Chief, "I trust you."
The interval of rest coming to an end at this point, the conversation
ceased and the paddles were resumed.
It was a magnificent day. The great Pacific was in that condition of
perfect repose which its name suggests. Not a breath of air ruffled the
wide sheet of water, which lay spread out like a vast circular
looking-glass to reflect the sky, and it did reflect the sky with such
perfect fidelity, that the clouds and cloudlets in the deep were exact
counterparts of those that floated in the air, while the four canoes,
resting on their own reflections, seemed to be suspended in the centre
of a crystal world, which was dazzlingly lit up by two resplendent suns.
This condition of calm lasted the whole of that day and night, and the
heat was very great; nevertheless the warriors--of whom there were from
forty to fifty in each canoe--did not cease to paddle for an instant,
save when the short spells of rest came round, and when, twice during
the day, they stopped to eat a hasty meal.
When the sun set they still continued to paddle onwards, the only
difference being that instead of passing over a sea of crystal, they
appeared to traverse an ocean of amber and burnished gold. All night
they continued their labours. About daybreak the Chief permitted them
to enjoy a somewhat longer period of rest, during which most of them,
without lying down, indulged in a short but refreshing nap. Resuming
the paddles, they proceeded until sunrise, when their hearts were
gladdened by the sight of the blue hills of Raratonga on the bright
horizon.
"Now we shall soon be at the end of our voyage," said the Chief, as he
pointed to the distant hills, and glanced at Jarwin as he might at a
prize which he was much afraid of losing. "Remember the promise, you
Christian. Don't be a deceiver, you `Breetish tar!'" (He quoted Jarwin
here.)
"Honour bright!" replied our hero.
The savage gazed earnestly into the sailor's bright eyes, and appeared
to think that if his honour was as bright as they were, there was not
much cause to fear. At all events he looked pleased, nodded his head,
and said "Good," with considerable emphasis.
By this time the hills of Raratonga were beginning to look less like
blue clouds and more like real mountains; gradually as the canoes drew
nearer, the markings on them became more and more defined, until at last
everything was distinctly visible--rocky eminences and luxuriant
valleys, through which flowed streams and rivulets that glittered
brightly in the light of the ascending sun, and almost constrained
Jarwin to shout with delight, for he gazed upon a scene more lovely by
far than anything that he had yet beheld in the Southern Seas.