Although the natives, who accompanied me in my various excursions,

usually displayed their skill in following a straight course through a

pathless wood where they could only see a few yards on either side of

them, yet on more than one occasion they were, to use a nautical

phrase, completely out in their reckoning, and I had to bring my compass

into use and become the guide myself in order to avoid passing the night

in the bush. When in the interior of the north-west part of Alu

accompanied by Gorai, the chief, and a number of his men, I was

astonished at the readiness with which, in the absence of any tracks,

they found their way to the coast. Gorai led the way; and on my asking

him how he managed to know the right direction in a thick forest with

neither sun nor trade-wind to guide him, he merely remarked that he

“saveyed bush,” and pointing with his hand in a particular direction, he

informed me that “Mono stopped there,” Mono being the native name for

Treasury. There was a little uncertainty among the natives as to whether

the old chief was guiding us aright; but there was no hesitation on the

part of Gorai, whose course as tested by my compass was always in the

same direction; he, however, disdained the use of the compass and

ultimately brought us back to the coast. When passing through a district

with which he is but little acquainted, the native frequently bends the

branches of the bushes as he passes, in order to strike the same path on

the way back. He must be frequently guided in his course through the

forest by noticing the bearing of the sun and the swaying of the upper

branches of the trees in the trade-wind, guides which were often

employed by myself when alone in the bush: but when, as not uncommonly

happens, there is such a dense screen of foliage overhead, that neither

the sun nor the upper branches of the trees can be seen, he must employ

other means of guidance. Rude tracks, usually traversed the least

frequented districts of the islands which we visited; and their

persistence appeared to be sometimes due to the fact that they were used

by the wild pigs.

Fallen trees commonly obstruct the most frequented paths in the vicinity

of villages: and there they remain until decay removes them, for the

native has no idea of doing an act for the public weal: with him, in

such and kindred matters, what is everybody’s business is nobody’s.

Captain Macdonald, in his capacity as a chief in Santa Anna, adopted the

serviceable method of employing natives, who had committed petty

offences, in making good walks in the vicinity of the houses of the

white residents. The example however was not followed by the natives for

the approaches to their own village of Sapuna. Being quite content with

their narrow footpaths, they probably could not understand that whatever

contributed to the public good was also to the advantage of the

individual.

CHAPTER IX.

PREVALENT DISEASES.

I HAVE previously remarked that in these islands the duties of the

sorcerer and the medicine-man are frequently combined. The same man, who

can remove a disease by exorcism and by ill-wishing can bring sickness

and death upon any obnoxious individual, may also be able in the

estimation of the people to procure a fair wind for an intended voyage,

or to bring about rain in a season of drought. I had more than one

opportunity of satisfying myself of the fact that the medicine-man often

trades upon the credulity of his patients, and that he is himself aware

that all his charms and incantations are mere trickery. In Santa Anna

his services are often employed to procure the recovery of a sick man,

and by some form of incantation he pretends to appease the anger of the

offended spirit to whom the illness is attributed. Captain Macdonald,

who has long resided in this island, informed me that when on one

occasion he had relieved by medicine the sufferings of a native who had

in vain employed the exorcisms of the village physician to effect his

cure, the success of his treatment did not detract in any way from the

reputation of the medicine-man, who, having informed himself of the

progress of the patient, after Captain Macdonald had given his remedy,

foretold his recovery and took to himself the whole credit of the cure.

In the island of Ugi chunam (burnt lime) is one of the domestic remedies

employed in sickness, being rubbed into the skin of the patient by his

friends. The chunam of some men is supposed to be more efficacious than

that of others, and messengers may be sent from one end of the island to

the other to procure it. One of our Treasury natives, who was employed

on board, had a reputation as medicine-man. His method of treatment in

the case of one of his own comrades consisted in tying a particular leaf

around the limbs and joints to localize the pain, and in striking the

affected part with the same leaf. On one occasion this man was himself

laid up with a large abscess in the buttock, which he attempted to cure

by tying a strip of the leaf around the thigh and by placing another for

a few moments over the seat of the abscess. He would not let me do much

for him; and from absorption of the purulent matter into the blood, a

number of abscesses began to form in other parts of the body which

brought him into a serious hectic condition. The poor fellow’s cries of

“Agai” “Agai,” corresponding to our exclamations of pain, made me feel

acutely for him; but he placed little faith in our offices, his great

desire, as intimated by his frequent cries of “Feli” (Fire), was to be

placed beside a large wood fire. He was sent on shore and given in

charge of his wife on our arrival off Treasury. When I landed to see him

a few hours after, I found him with his wish at last gratified; there he

lay beside a roasting fire, the very last condition that seemed likely

to promote his recovery. However he slowly regained his health, and I

did what I could for him in buying sago and other articles of food from

his own people who were not very ready with their supplies for the sick

man.

This brings me to the subject of the indifference often displayed

towards the sick and invalids. The natives view these things in a very

matter-of-fact way. On more than one occasion when in the house of

sickness, the son or the brother of the sick man has remarked to me, in

the coolest manner, “Him too much sick. I think by-and-by finish;” and

it is astonishing to hear of the manner in which they allow the sick to

shift for themselves. In the islands of Bougainville Straits the very

aged, who are unable to get about or to be of any service to themselves,

are placed in a house in which they are left alone although supplied

with food; and there they remain until they die. Two old and decrepit

men, who were both fast hastening to their ends, being the subjects of

chronic lung affections, were placed together in a house in Treasury

where they were supplied with food but rarely if ever visited. They were

placed there to die as the relations informed us; and there they

remained day after day until the end arrived. Mr. Stephens told me that

in his island of Ugi, if a cocoa-nut is placed by the side of the sick

man, his friends consider they have done all in their power. No attempt

is made to alleviate pain, or to soothe by companionship the tedious

hours of the sick. He lies deserted on his roughly plaited mat of

palm-leaves, in his wretched home where the sunlight rarely enters; and

there he awaits, perhaps without regret, his approaching death. When

consciousness leaves him, his friends regard him as already dead,

attributing the spasmodic breathing and the convulsive efforts of the

dying man to the agency of some evil spirit.

The influence of superstition probably explains the indifference which

prevails as to the welfare of the sick and aged. Those afflicted with

such an infirmity as blindness are kindly treated by their fellows. I

was particularly struck, whilst looking on at a feast in the village of

Treasury, by the attention that was paid to the wants of a young blind

man who sat aloof from the rest. He was blind from his birth, and I

particularly pleased him by sitting down beside him and giving him a

stick of tobacco.

In the case of those who have received some severe injury, such as a

gunshot wound, considerable care is shown by the friends in their

welfare. I saw much of the natives who were wounded during the

hostilities carried on between the natives of Treasury and the

Shortlands, and was astonished at the ease with which they recovered

from apparently hopeless injuries. My experience goes to support the

opinion laid down by Professor Waitz in his “Anthropology of Primitive

Peoples,”[149] that the healing power of nature is greater among savage

than among civilized races. The principle of non-interference was

literally carried out in defiance of the laws of hygiene and of the

experience of modern surgery. After the unfortunate conflict on the

islet of Tuluba, off the west coast of Alu, I visited the wounded man

and woman who had been brought back to their homes. I found the woman

lying in a dingy little house in which I had to stand still for a few

minutes before I could see my patient. Five days had elapsed since the

fight; and the condition of a wound, which has been left alone for this

period in a tropical climate, may be well imagined. She had received a

severe tomahawk wound just above the right knee, smashing the bone and

implicating the joint. The parts were much swollen and there was profuse

suppuration. No attempt had been made to wash the wound, and in

consequence it stunk horribly. A few pieces of split bamboo, less than a

foot in length, were lashed in a slack fashion around the joint by means

of rattan; but they could have given little or no support. Under the

couch, which was merely a layer of poles raised about a foot from the

ground, were placed hot stones wrapped up in leaves, from which the

warmth ascended to the injured limb which was left uncovered and exposed

to the flies and other insects. The poor woman was moaning terribly; and

her cries of “Agai” were painful to listen to, especially as I was

permitted to do but little. They would neither wash nor cover the wound,

and persisted in keeping up the hot air treatment by means of the hot

stones wrapped in leaves, which were placed under the couch. I

pronounced her recovery as hopeless; and was after a time obliged to

discontinue my visits, upon being told by one of the medicine-men that

as he could make her well, my presence was not required. I never saw the

woman again, but sometime after I learned that she was nearly well.

[149] English edition: translated by J. F. Collingwood: London,

1863: p. 126.

The man who was wounded at the same time had received a rifle-bullet

through the thigh without injuring the bone, and another through the

groin. I found his wounds in the same horrible condition, with the wound

of exit in the thigh as large as my fist. Nothing whatever had been done

except placing hot stones in leaves under the limb on the ground

beneath; and nothing more was done. There the man lay for several weeks

with his wounds unwashed and exposed to the air. In course of time he

recovered. One of the Treasury natives had been shot by one of his own

party, the rifle-bullet passing through the right elbow from behind, and

apparently disorganising the joint. I saw him a month after he had

received the injury, lying in a very emaciated condition on his couch,

with the wounded limb stretched out beside him quite unprotected and

displaying an extensive flesh-wound in front of the joint. The hot-stone

treatment had been the only one employed. In another month or five weeks

he was up and about, but of course with a useless elbow. One of the Alu

natives, who had been shot through the left shoulder from behind by the

Treasury chief, had nearly recovered when I saw him six or seven weeks

after, although the arm was useless.

Reflecting on the hot-stone treatment which the natives employed for

these severe injuries, I came to think that it was really efficacious.

They said themselves that the hot air eased the pain, and this was

probably effected, as I hold, by the warmth relaxing the parts after

suppuration had begun and thus assisting the escape of the purulent

discharges. The surgeon of our own time may take a hint from this

practice of the Solomon Islander. It would certainly scarcely accord

with the principles of modern surgery if a gunshot injury of one of the

larger joints was to be treated in one of our general hospitals by being

constantly kept in a current of heated air, uncovered and even unwashed.

The experiment, however, would be worth a trial in cases where

amputation is unpracticable and where death is the probable result.

It is a common saying amongst white men who have had to deal with these

natives, that when a man makes up his mind to die he assuredly will,

even although apparently in robust health. Such cases are not unusual on

board labour-ships on their way to the Queensland and Fiji plantations,

and they may be regarded as of the nature of nostalgic melancholy or

home-sickness. It is in truth hard to imagine the train of thoughts

which must pass through the simple mind of a native when his island-home

disappears below the horizon, and he is borne away to a strange land

from which, it may be, some of his acquaintances have never returned.

Even the attractions of the box of trade that his servitude will earn

may be insufficient to keep down the undefined apprehensions which fill

his breast; and the knowledge of the impossibility of seeking his

friends or his island again for what must appear to him an indefinite

period may only serve to strengthen his longing for home. Here we have

that disease with which the army surgeons of Europe were familiar, and

which has been most recently exhibited amongst the Italian troops

stationed at Masowah on the coast of the Red Sea. It is that “strange

disease” which Dr. Livingstone so pathetically describes in his “Last

Journals,” as affecting the victims of the slave-trade in the lake

region of Africa. I remember on one occasion, when visiting a

labour-vessel that had arrived in Treasury Harbour, my attention was

drawn by the mate to a native of New Ireland who had eaten little for

some days and was looking over the side of the ship towards the shore in

a depressed and moody manner. I saw that the thoughts of the poor fellow

were in reality far away; and I passed on to see some of the other sick

men. The next morning this New Ireland native was missing, and in the

evening his body was found washed up on the beach. . . . I would refer

my readers to some interesting remarks on this subject from the pen of

Mr. Romilly,[150] whose official experience in the Western Pacific

enables him to write with authority. The Solomon Islanders, according to

this author, are less affected by this disease than those of other

groups; whilst the New Hebrides natives appear to be most subject to

it. Not only do natives often die of nostalgia before they are landed,

but many die from this cause after their arrival in Fiji; and the only

way to cure those affected is the one least likely to be followed, that

is, “to send them home.”

[150] “The Western Pacific and New Guinea.” London, 1886: pp.

16,177.

In the eastern part of the Solomon Group, one commonly meets natives

limping along with large ulcerous sores on the soles of the feet, seated

usually near the base of the toes. They are often caused by stepping on

the sharp corals when fishing on the reefs, or by splinters of wood

piercing the skin of the soles of the feet when walking in the bush. As

a rule, the native pays no attention to these sores, and from neglect

the ulceration extends both on the surface and to the deeper tissues,

exposing the tendons and the metatarsal bones. Ultimately some or all

the toes may be lost, and an unshapely clubbed foot arises from the

subsequent contraction of the cicatrised surface. At other times, where

the ulceration has been superficial but has extended between the toes,

adhesion and perfect union of the lateral surfaces of the toes ensue,

and a continuous covering of skin bridges over the intervening spaces.

Mr. Nisbet, the government agent of the labour-schooner “Redcoat” from

Fiji, showed me a Solomon Island native with a foot of perfect form but

with apparently no toes. A continuous covering of skin covered the whole

foot like a thin sock, and the toes were only recognisable by the touch.

The man appeared to be but little incommoded by this obliteration of the

toes. Among the natives of New Britain, as we learn from Mr.

Romilly,[151] “the toes are not unfrequently joined together by a tough

membrane,” a defect which does “not seem to impair their activity.” This

evidently results from superficial ulceration in the manner I have above

described.

[151] “The Western Pacific and New Guinea.” London, 1886, p. 21.

These ulcerous sores, if left exposed to the irritation of sand, dirt,

and flies, may last for years and may ultimately cause death. Dr.

Livingstone in his “Last Journals” (vol. ii. chaps. 2 and 3) speaks of

the ulcers of the feet from which many of the slaves die in the region

west of Tanganyika. They eat through everything muscle, tendon, and

bone, and often lame permanently. “The wailing of slaves tortured with

these sores is one of the night sounds of a slave camp.” These ulcers,

however, as they affect the Solomon Islanders, have a natural tendency

to heal. When staying with Bishop Selwyn at Gaeta in Florida, I

accompanied him on his morning round of visits to his patients, most of

them being the subjects of these large ulcerous sores on the feet and

legs. He tells me that with rest and cleanliness they soon take on a

healing action. Carbolic oil was the application he used, and it seemed

well suited for these discharging, loathsome sores. Several of the men

of the “Lark” were laid up with these ulcers of the feet for many weeks.

The ulcers in their case assumed a circular form with raised callous

edges and an irritable inflamed surface, being attended by much pain in

the surrounding parts. The free application of lunar caustic every two

or three days followed by poulticing, I found to be the most effectual

treatment. Dr. Livingstone, who was himself laid up with these sores for

eighty days in the interior of Africa, found the best of all topical

applications to be malachite rubbed down with water on a stone and

applied with a feather. The natives of Treasury Island in the Solomon

Group use an application prepared by pounding the fruit of the _Cycas

circinalis_, which grows near the edge of the cliffs on the south coast

of the adjacent Stirling Island.

There is a loathsome skin disease very prevalent amongst the inhabitants

of this group, which is generally known as the Solomon Island or Tokelau

ringworm. I should estimate that two-fifths of the total population of

these islands are thus affected. We found it more prevalent in some

islands than in others. In Treasury, for instance, four-fifths of the

people are the subjects of this disease, and half of the chief’s wives

who number about thirty are almost covered with it. In the southern

large island of the Florida Islands, it appears to affect quite one half

of the population. It ranges from one end of the group to the other,

neither sex nor age affording any immunity. The chiefs and their

families, however, seem to be less liable to this disease. The skin of

every man does not appear to afford a suitable nidus for the growth of

the fungus which is the cause of the eruption; and this is evident from

the circumstance that one parent may be covered with the disease while

the other is entirely free from it. This skin-eruption, although so

repulsive in appearance in the eyes of the European when he first visits

the group, is not viewed with any feelings of disgust by the natives;

and even the European after spending some time in the group learns to

disregard its repulsiveness. Those affected show no anxiety to be quit

of it and evince great indifference when any offer is made to them to

cure it. It is to them only an inconvenience; and apparently causes no

irritation except when the skin is hot and perspiring, as after

exertion.

When this disease first came under my notice in the early part of 1882,

I was unacquainted with what had been previously written on the subject.

I accordingly made a microscopical examination of the affected skin and

arrived at the conclusion, previously formed by those far more competent

to express an opinion than myself, that the eruption was an inveterate

form of body-ringworm. As it is to be seen affecting the skin of young

children in the form of limited circular patches, which usually commence

on the belly, it displays all the essential characters of _Tinea

circinata_ or body-ringworm. Spreading all over the trunk and limbs, the

eruption assumes a chronic character and its typical characters become

obscured. The whole skin, with the exception of that of the face and

scalp which are not attacked by the disease, is covered by a great

number of wavy desquamating lines partly concentric in their

arrangement; and on account of the intervals between the lines being of

a paler hue, the whole skin obtains a singular marbled appearance.

To such a degree is the skin implicated in some cases of the disease

that the rapid desiccation and desquamation of the epidermal cells lead

to a partial decoloration of the deeper parts of the cuticle, as though

the rate of the production of pigment was less rapid than the rate of

its removal in the desquamative process. This disease, in other words,

tends to decolorize the skin. From this cause, one occasionally meets

with a native whose skin as compared with that of his fellows is of a

pale sickly hue. The tendency to produce a lighter colour by the too

rapid destruction of the pigment is especially noticeable in those cases

where the body is only partially covered with the eruption, there being

a marked contrast between the paleness of the affected surfaces and the

dark hue of the healthy skin. The influence of this cutaneous disease on

the colour was remarked by Commodore Wilkes amongst the natives of the

Depeyster Islands in the Ellice Group. He refers to the skin of those

affected as much lighter than in any Polynesian race he had hitherto met

with.[152] The same effect of this disease was noticed by Mr. Wilfred

Powell amongst the natives of New Britain.[153]

[152] “Narrative of the U.S. Exploring Expedition,” London, 1845;

vol. V. p. 40.

[153] “Three years amongst the Cannibals of New Britain,” London,

1883, p. 86.

I have entered somewhat at length into the subject of the partial

decoloration produced by this eruption, because it has a bearing on that

“quæstio vexata,” the causes of race-colour. Pathology, in fact, affords

more than one instance of changes, almost of a permanent character,

produced in the colour of the skin through the influence of abnormal

action. Dr. Tylor in one of his lectures[154] alludes to “the morbid

appearance of race-character” produced by the bronzing of the skin in

Addison’s disease, which is shown to be immediately due to a deposit of

pigment in the _rete mucosum_ closely resembling that of the negro. “The

importance of the comparison,” he says, “lies in its bridging over the

physiological differences of race, by showing that morbid action may

bring about in one race results more or less analogous to the normal

type in another.” To the partial decoloration of the skin in Tokelau

ringworm and to the bronzing of the skin in Addison’s disease, these

remarks equally apply.

[154] Delivered at Oxford on Feb. 15th, 1883: (“Nature” vol.

xxviii., p. 9). _Vide_ also Topinard’s “Eléments d’Anthropologie

générale:” Paris 1885, p. 325.

This disease has been variously spoken of by different authors and

travellers as Leprosy, Icthyosis, Psoriasis, Pityriasis versicolor, and

Tokelau Ringworm, of which it is needless to remark that the last is the

only name which is correct. The medical officers of the United States

Exploring Expedition, under Commodore Wilkes in 1841, were the first to

recognise the nature of the eruption in the case of the inhabitants of

the Depeyster Islands in the Ellice Group.[155] In 1874 Dr. Tilbury Fox,

after having examined some scrapings of the skin which had been sent to

him from Samoa, published in the “Lancet” (August 29th) a paper on

“Tokelau Ringworm and its Fungus,” in which he established the true

character of the disease, and disposed of a view held by the Rev. Dr. G.

Turner of the Samoan Medical Mission and by Dr. Mullen, R.N. of H.M.S.

“Cameleon,” that its origin may have been connected with the occurrence

of numerous dipterous insects found in scrapings of the skin after the

use of sulphur ointment. This last he showed to be only an accidental

feature of the eruption. Two years afterwards, Dr. Fox in connection

with Dr. Farquhar wrote an account of “Certain Endemic Skin and other

Diseases in India and Hot Climates generally” (London 1876), in which

further reference was made to this disease. It was there shown that

Tokelau ringworm, Burmese ringworm, Chinese ringworm, and the Indian

ringworms known familiarly as “dhobie itch,” “washerman’s itch,”

“Malabar itch,” etc., are all of them forms of _Tinea circinata tropica_

variously modified by such circumstances as the personal habits, the

nature of the apparel, and the character of the climate. A proof of the

correctness of this conclusion came under my observation in the Solomon

Islands, where the white men in taking this disease from the natives

suffer from it frequently in the form of “dhobie itch.” The parasitic

disease _Tinea circinata tropica_ to which, as above shown, all tropical

ringworms should be referred is, as Dr. Fox remarks in his work on “Skin

Diseases” (3rd edit., 1873, p. 451), “nothing more or less than ordinary

ringworm of the body (_tinea circinata_), such as we have in Europe,

determined in its occurrence to certain parts of the body by peculiar

circumstances, and assuming characters somewhat different from those

observed in the disease as it exists in colder climates, in consequence

of the greater luxuriance of the parasite consequent upon the presence

in one case of a greater amount of heat and moisture, which are

favourable to the development and speed the growth of fungi.”

[155] “Narrative of the U. S. Explor. Exped.”: vol. v., p. 40.

The particular form of the disease to which the name Tokelau Ringworm

should be applied has a very wide distribution. Mr. G. W. Earl in his

work on “The Papuans” (London, 1853; p. 37) speaks of this disease under

the name of “icthyosis” as being very prevalent amongst all the coast

tribes of the Indian Archipelago: but I gather from some references made

by Mr. Wallace to this affection in his account of the Malay Archipelago

(3rd edit., 1872, p. 449) that it is not to be found so much amongst the

pure Malays as amongst the tribes of mixed origin. Mr. Marsden in his

“History of Sumatra” (London 1811, p. 190) refers to it as being very

common amongst the inhabitants of Pulo Nias, an island which lies off

the west coast of Sumatra. His description of the disease leaves no

doubt as to its true character, but he himself is uncertain as to

whether it is an “impetigo” indicating a mild type of leprosy, or

whether it is not ordinary “shingles” or a confirmed stage of ringworm.

The same disease was recently observed by Mr. H. O. Forbes amongst the

natives of Timor-laut and of the island of Buru, islands which lie at

the opposite end of the Indian Archipelago.[156] Two centuries since,

Dampier well described this disease in the case of the inhabitants of

Mindanao in the Philippines and of those of Guam in the Ladrones.[157]

[156] “A Naturalist’s Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago;” pp.

331, 402; London, 1885.

[157] “Voyage round the World.” London 1729, vol. i., p. 334.

Coming to New Guinea, I find that this disease prevails all along its

coasts and in many of the off-lying islands, such as the Ki and Aru

Islands, Teste Island, Woodlark Island, etc. The authorities on which I

have founded this general statement are numerous and include, Modera,

Bruijn Kops, Wallace, Mosely, Miklouho-Maclay, Comrie, W. Turner,

Chalmers, Wyatt Gill, Romilly, Lyne, and others, whose descriptions,

though they often did not recognise the true character of the eruption,

leave no reasonable doubt on the matter.

This disease was observed by Mr. Wilfred Powell to be very frequent

amongst the natives of New Britain and the Duke of York Islands, where

it is called “buckwar.”[158] Dr. Comrie, R.N., when serving in H.M.S.

“Dido,” found it to be very frequent amongst the natives of New

Ireland.[159] Through the islands of the Solomon Group it is widely

spread, as I have already shown: and from them it has extended to the

different groups to the eastward, reaching the Gilbert, Ellice, Tonga

and Samoa Groups.

[158] “Three years among the Cannibals in New Britain,” London,

1883, p. 54.

[159] Journal of the Anthropological Institute, vol. vi. p. 102.

In the Western Pacific we are able in some instances to trace the

eastward extension of this disease during the last half century. Dr. G.

Turner in his annual report of the Samoan Medical Mission, dated

October, 1869, refers to the recent introduction of the Tokelau Ringworm

amongst the Samoan Islanders as the introduction of a new disease. It

was brought to Samoa from Bowditch or Tokelau Island where it had been

also unknown until about ten years before, when it was introduced by a

native of the Gilbert Group who had been landed by a whaler. The Gilbert

or Kingsmill Islanders, according to the narrative of Commodore Wilkes,

believed that the disease came from the south-west, and called it the

“south-west gune,” the nearest islands in that direction being those of

the Solomon and Santa Cruz groups, between 800 and 900 miles away.

Commodore Wilkes, however, was of opinion that this disease had reached

the Kingsmill Group from the Depeyster Islands in the Ellice Group to

the south-south-east; and he refers to the circumstance that the disease

was most prevalent in the southern islands of the Kingsmill Group, being

apparently absent from Makin the northernmost island;[160] but this

distribution of the disease may be also urged in support of the more

probable view of the natives that it came from the south-west. We are

thus able to trace one probable track of this disease from the Solomon

Islands, or one of the groups immediately adjacent to them, across a

wide tract of sea to the Gilbert and Ellice Groups, and from there to

Tokelau Island, and thence to Samoa. The French navigator,

Dentrecasteaux,[161] found the same disease to be very prevalent amongst

the inhabitants of the Tonga Islands towards the end of last century;

and it seems strange that it did not reach the Samoa Group until about

seventy years after. The Tonga natives, however, may have derived it by

another and more direct course from the westward, namely through the New

Hebrides and the Fiji Groups.

[160] “Narrative of the U. S. Explor. Exped.” vol. v. p. 105.

[161] “Voyage de Dentrecasteaux,” par M. de Rossel, tom. I. p. 329,

Paris 1808.

I may appear to have entered with unnecessary detail into this subject,

but it is apparent that this fungoid skin disease, disseminated as it is

by personal contact and other similar agencies, would have reached these

sub-central Pacific Groups long ago if they had been occupied through

ages by their present inhabitants. The same evidence, therefore, which

can be brought forward to prove the recent appearance of this disease

amongst the natives of these groups may also be advanced in support of

the recent occupation of these islands by the eastern Polynesians.

From the previous remarks on the distribution of Tokelau Ringworm it may

be inferred that in New Guinea and in the islands of the Malay

Archipelago we have the home of the disease. From this region it has

spread eastward towards the centre of the Pacific; and we may also infer

that this eastward extension of the disease has occurred within the last

three hundred years, since in the accounts which Gallego and Quiros give

of the natives of the Solomon, Santa Cruz, and New Hebrides Groups at

the time of their first discovery by the Spaniards, there is no

reference to the prevalence of any cutaneous disease, which, if it had

existed, would most certainly have attracted the notice of these early

navigators.

I only had one opportunity of treating this affection, and that was in

the person of a native of Guadalcanar, who was shipped on board as an

interpreter, and who had been the subject of the disease for about five

months. Partly from its obstinacy, and partly from the difficulty of

ensuring that the remedies were regularly and thoroughly employed, my

experience was not very satisfactory. Sulphur ointment, mercurial

ointment, tincture of iodine, and a lotion of hyposulphite of soda (1 in

12) were severally used, and after about three weeks the skin was almost

clean. Some weeks afterwards, the eruption re-appeared on the forearms

in the form of the characteristic small circumscribed patches of

body-ringworm. The local remedy, which I found most rapid in its effect

as a parasiticide in the treatment of this case, was the tincture of

iodine of which two applications completely removed the disease from the

fore-arms. The lotion of the hyposulphite of soda and the mercurial

ointment had apparently but little influence on the disease. The sulphur

ointment, however, had a gradual curative action. To many of the vessels

which leave Queensland and Fiji to recruit labour in the Solomon and New

Hebrides groups, sulphur ointment is supplied; and the government-agents

are instructed to use it in all cases of this disease amongst the

natives recruited. I learned from some of these gentlemen that, when the

remedy is applied thoroughly, and under superintendence, they usually

succeed in thoroughly cleansing the skin from the eruption before the

ships return to the colonies.

A pustular eruptive disease peculiar to children, which has been

referred to by various authors as prevalent in the New Hebrides, Fiji,

Tonga, and Samoa groups, affects many of the young children of the

Solomon Islands, usually occurring about the age of five. A number of

large papules, twice the size of a split pea, which subsequently become

filled with a pustular fluid, appear on the face. These pustules by

rupturing tend to unite and form unhealthy-looking sores of the size of

a florin. The disease pursues a regular course of papule, pustule, and

sore; and is said never to recur. As far as I could learn, the natives

interfere but little with its progress; and, as in Fiji where it is

known as _coko_,[162] they regard the disease as having a salutary

influence on the future health of the child.

[162] “Fiji and the Fijians,” by Messrs T. Williams and J. Calvert.

3rd edit. 1870, p. 151.

That peculiar spinal disease, which produces so many hunch-backs in the

Society and Samoan groups, and which is so well described by Mr. Ellis

in his “Polynesian Researches” (2nd edit., 1831, vol. iii. pp. 39, 40),

does not prevail among the Solomon Islanders. I can only recall one

instance of spinal deformity which came under my observation. It was in

the person of a little boy about ten or eleven years old, who was the

subject of lateral and posterior curvature of the spine. The little

fellow, who was a native of Simbo, apparently experienced no

inconvenience from the deformity, since a firm ankylosis had occurred.

He was able to accompany me in my ascents to the summit of his island,

which is elevated about 1,100 feet above the sea.

An epidemic catarrhal disease, which is allied to influenza, is very

prevalent amongst the natives of these islands. It is commonly followed

by lung-complications, which not infrequently cause the death of the

sufferer. Such an epidemic in running through a village sometimes

carries off several of the inhabitants. The elderly natives are, in

fact, very liable to pulmonary affections; such diseases usually

terminate their lives.

From the occurrence of an epidemic of this catarrhal disease, a village

often obtains an unhealthy reputation; and the natives abandon it for

some other situation, which is selected rather for the convenience of

its position than for its freedom from unhealthy influences. A

generation ago, one of the principal villages in the island of Ugi was

situated on the level summit of a hill overlooking Selwyn Bay on the

west coast, a site which would have at once been chosen both for its

salubrity and for its capability of defence. However, a number of deaths

occurred in the village from epidemic catarrhal disease; and the

inhabitants shifted their homes to the low-lying unhealthy situation

where the village of Ete-ete now stands.

Epidemics of mumps occur occasionally amongst these islanders. In

October, 1882, whilst we were taking to Ugi the crew of the “Pioneer,” a

schooner which had been wrecked off the coast of Guadalcanar, some cases

of this disease appeared among the natives belonging to that ship,

affecting ten out of the twenty on board, and pursuing its usual course.

It was evident that the disease had been originally brought from

Brisbane, as the ship which was engaged in returning natives from the

Queensland plantations, had had three cases previously, the first having

occurred on her arrival at Makira harbour, just a week after she left

Brisbane. That mumps is sometimes a fatal disease amongst these races,

there is no reason to doubt. Mr. Stephens of Ugi informed me that a few

years since, some natives of Lord Howe Islands, whom he was employing on

his premises, rapidly succumbed to this disease.

Men who were the subjects of _Elephantiasis arabum_ were occasionally

seen in the different islands we visited. Instances of “lymph-scrotum”

most frequently typify this disease, but now and then cases of “swollen

leg” occur. In the island of Faro or Fauro in Bougainville Straits, the

natives attribute this disease to the water of particular streams. There

is a stream on the west side of the island, the water of which when

drunk is said to produce “swollen legs.” For this reason the water is

never employed; and the ban is even extended to the cocoa-nut trees on

its banks.

Natives, who are the subjects of such congenital deformities as

“hare-lip,” are rarely seen. Very probably in such cases life is

destroyed by the parents soon after birth. I only observed one instance

of “hare-lip” which occurred in the case of a man of Simbo. This

malformation, which was of the single character, was associated with

abnormal development of crisp hair on the body and more particularly on

the back. As an instance of another kind of congenital deformity, which

however came but rarely under my observation, I may refer to a man of

Ugi who had six perfect toes on the right foot, both fifth and sixth

toes being provided with nails and apparently arising from a common

metatarsal bone. None of his family had the same deformity, which in his

case was probably inconvenient in more ways than one, as the print of

his foot was familiar to every native in the island.[163]

[163] Mr. Romilly, in the work referred to on page 168, alludes to

the strange prevalence of these congenital deformities of the hands

and feet in New Britain.

Strabismus is not uncommon amongst the natives of these islands, and

appears to occur with the same relative frequency as amongst more

civilised people.

Venereal diseases, both constitutional and local, are said by traders to

be very frequent in certain islands, as in Ugi, which have had most

intercourse with the outer world. I rarely however came upon unequivocal

evidence of the constitutional form of these diseases, those cases which

came under my immediate observation being of the non-constitutional

types which, as in other tropical regions, are often of a rapidly

destructive character. The natives of Ugi assert that these diseases

have not been introduced within the memory of any living man, and no

tradition prevails with reference to their origin. I shall scarcely

enter into the question of the introduction of these diseases into the

more central groups of the Pacific, a subject which is discussed in most

of the narratives of the early expeditions to those regions, but in a

spirit of unfairness and mutual recrimination which goes far to

invalidate the conclusions arrived at. Negative evidence, however, must

be of a very exhaustive character before it would warrant the inference

that to the licence, so freely permitted to the crews of the English and

French expeditions during the latter half of the last century, must be

attributed the presence of these diseases among the Polynesian races.

M. Rollin, who, as surgeon of the frigate “Boussole,” accompanied La

Pérouse on his ill-fated voyage, adduces evidence to show the

probability of these diseases having existed in the Pacific before the

discoveries of the French and English navigators in that region;[164]

and La Pérouse himself approaches very near the truth when he suggests

that the free intercourse, which prevailed between the natives and the

crews during those expeditions, may have increased the activity and

destructive tendency of the pre-existing diseases.[165] For, not only

has M. Parrot of Paris demonstrated from an examination of the skulls of

some South American aborigines the existence of Syphilis in the New

World before Columbus set foot on its shores, but he affirms without

hesitation, after examining three fragments of infant skulls from a

dolmen in central France, that this disease existed in prehistoric times

(“Lancet,” May 10th, 1879). We are not therefore surprised at finding

references to venereal diseases in the ancient literature of China,

India, Arabia, Greece and Rome (Aitken’s “Medicine,” 6th edit, 1872, vol

i. p. 859); and having regard to the ethnological past of the Pacific,

we can with some confidence assume that the original stock, derived in

the first place from the Asiatic continent, brought with them these

diseases.

[164] “Voyage round the World, by La Pérouse,” edit. by

Milet-Mureau: London: vol. iii., p. 180.

[165] Ibid. vol. ii. p. 52.

The susceptibility of these islanders to comparatively small falls of

temperature is an element in their predisposition to disease which

should not be disregarded. This susceptibility was strikingly shown to

me on one occasion, at the end of August 1882, when I was following up

the course of a stream at Sulagina on the north coast of St. Christoval.

Accompanied by a party of natives, I was wading up the stream for

several hours, the water often reaching the waist, whilst a steady

deluge of rain completed the wetting. Although the air was merely

comparatively cool for this latitude (10° 30′ S.), the thermometer in

the shade standing at 80° Fahr, my natives were shivering with the cold;

whilst I myself felt only the inconvenience of having been soaked

through for so many hours. As soon as we returned to the coast, all my

party huddled themselves together around their wood-fires in a little

hut and warmed their hands and feet as eagerly as we should in

winter-time at home. As I stood in the hut looking comfortably on at my

naked companions who, shivering and with their teeth chattering, were

endeavouring to warm themselves around the fires, I recalled to my mind

an incident which Mr. Darwin relates in his “_Journal of the Beagle_”

(p. 220), which although analogous, illustrates the converse of these

conditions. “A small family of Fuegians”--he writes--“soon joined our

party round a blazing fire. We were well clothed, and though sitting

close to the fire were far from too warm; yet these naked savages,

though further off, were observed, to our great surprise, to be

streaming with perspiration at undergoing such a roasting.”

Instances of mental weakness or of insanity amongst the natives of these

islands rarely came under my notice. However, more than one of the

chiefs whom we met had a half-witted individual on his staff, who made

himself generally useful to his master. The chief’s fool, as we called

him, was frequently my guide in the island of Santa Anna. He was the

general butt of the village; and I was told the girls would sometimes

seize hold of him and roll him about in the sand. Insanity would appear

to be of uncommon occurrence amongst these islanders; but I suspect that

such individuals are not permitted to live. Whilst the “Lark” was

engaged in the survey of Faro Island in Bougainville Straits, I learned

that there was a madman, who was partially dumb, living in the bush in

the interior of the island. Having murdered his wife about five months

before our visit, he had taken to the forest where he led a solitary

life at enmity with his fellow-islanders, who would have killed him, as

they told me, if they found him. He frequently used to steal from the

plantations; and during our stay in the island he was observed by a

woman near one of the yam patches. The chief’s son came up to me one

afternoon, after I had returned to the coast from an ascent of one of

the principal summits, to advise me to shoot this unfortunate being if

ever I saw him; and he added that if this madman should see me,

unobserved, he would either run away or take his opportunity of killing

me. However, I made several excursions into the interior afterwards; but

I never fell in with him.

CHAPTER X.

VOCABULARY OF THE ISLANDS OF BOUGAINVILLE STRAITS--TREASURY ISLAND, THE

SHORTLAND ISLANDS, FARO OR FAURO ISLAND, WITH CHOISEUL BAY.

THIS vocabulary was formed in great part by Lieutenant A. Leeper, to

whom I may take this opportunity of expressing my thanks for his

kindness, in thus placing it at my disposal. I have supplemented this

list from smaller vocabularies made by Lieutenant C. F. de M. Malan and

by myself. It is to be regretted that, owing to Lieutenant Malan taking

up a Colonial appointment in Fiji during the last year of the

commission, we were unable to avail ourselves in a further degree of his

knowledge of the Fijian tongue, and of his general acquaintance with the

construction of the Polynesian languages. We are, however, especially

indebted to him for the recognition of the pronominal suffixes.

The spelling follows to a great extent the mode adopted in the

missionary alphabet of Professor Max Müller, as given on page 116 of the

Anthropological Notes and Queries drawn up at the request of the British

Association. The vowels and diphthongs are pronounced as in the

following examples;--_a_ as _a_ in father, _e_ as _a_ in fate, _i_ as

_i_ in marine, _o_ as _o_ in note, _u_ as _oo_ in moon, _ai_ as _ai_ in

aisle, _au_ as _ou_ in proud. Where there has been an evident want of

agreement in the three vocabularies, I have given the different words or

the different spellings, as the case may have occurred. We have thus

been, in some degree, “checks” to each other: and I hope we have

avoided, in this manner, many of those errors into which the unassisted

framer of a vocabulary is so liable to fall. The accented syllable is

thus indicated (´) in most instances where it is needed, the accent

being usually placed on the penultimate.

_Miscellaneous Words_

Afraid Fulau.

Angry Fangolu; Gafolu.

Armlet Pago.

Arrow Iliu.

Ashes Oafu.

Awl Nila.

Axe Libba-libba; Levo-levo.

Back Aro.

Bad Paiténa.

Bag Ko-isa.

Basket Koko; Besa.

Beat (to) Lapu.

Before Gaga.

Behind Arogu.

Big Yolulla; Kana-kana.

Blood Masíni.

Blow Ifu.

Bow Lili.

Boy Taui.

Break (to) Taposha.

Bring Galómi.

Brother Manai-ina.

Bury (to) Nafu.

Buy Fūna-aili.

Calico Bauro.

Canoe Obuna.

Cap So-so.

Capsize (to) Igomo.

Charcoal Sibi.

Chew Tatau.

Chief Lálafa; Yolóna.

Chief’s eldest son Natuna.

Clean Lapu; Sapolu.

Club Peko.

Club (dancing) Toko; Toku.

Cold Lulu-gulu.

Comb Supi.

Cut Ausi.

Dance Gatu.

Dark Lali.

Day Boï.

Dead Mate; Imati.

Deaf Kipau.

Devil (_i.e._, bad spirit) Nito paiténa.

Dig (to) Eli.

Dirty Mati.

Drift (to) Ali.

Drink (to) Atali aoa.

Drinking-vessel (a cocoanut).

with neck of bamboo Dogo.

without neck Droo.

Dry Dūgga-dūgga.

Earthquake Nono.

Eat (to) A-am.

Egg I-au.

Empty Golu.

Enough Sumána.

Fall Kappa.

Fan Etif.

Far De-apína.

Fat Hatutu.

Father Apa.

Few Alua-tapoína.

Fight Tala.

Finish (end) Egáfulu.

Finished Sumána.

Fire Feli.

Fish-hook A-ili.

Flint Kilifela.

Fly (to) Lofu.

Food Dorómi; Darámi.

„ (cooked) Selo-selo.

Full Forna.

Gift Teletafala.

God (_i.e._, good spirit) Nito drékona.

Good Drékona; Dékona.

Great Yolulla; Kana-kana.

Half Koputi.

Heaven Lavia.

Heavy Mamma.

Hot Posella.

House Numa; Fale-fale.

„ (tambu) Olatu.

Hungry Belu.

Inside Uni; Fakoria.

Jew’s harp Mako-mako.

Jump (to) Subolosa.

Kick (to) Savulu.

Kill (to) So-orti.

Kneel (to) Fasiliki.

Knife Papalana.

Know (to) Atai.

Lick (to) Damíti.

Lift (to) Ikoti.

Light (in weight) Dugga-dugga.

Live (to) Peoka.

Long Deapa.

Mad Kipau.

Man Kániga; Tium; Kániga-tium.

Many Tapóina.

Mat Sararang; Pota.

(The names of the two pandanus trees, from the leaves of which the

mats are made.)

Match Sararang (_vide_ preceding).

Moon Ilala; Ilella.

Mother Unka.

Naked Ampea-paiia.

Net (fishing) Sorau (large).

Sai-aili (small).

Awi-sulu.

(The plant supplying the fibre is named awi-sulu, probably a species

of “Lyonsia.”)

New Faolu.

Night Lali.

No Api; Apea.

Noise So-orli.

None Ausaka.

Now Ivai.

Old Purafalu.

Open Kapeta.

Outside Ampapaluna.

Paddle (noun and verb) Fosi; Fose.

Pay Aili.

Path Poa.

Pearl Bor-otulu.

Pestle and mortar (wooden),

used for pounding food Tagero.

Plane (a) Ketuma.

Plenty Tapóina.

Pot (cooking) Kore.

Present (a) Teletafala.

Quarter Totoli.

Queen Mamaifi.

Quick Fakare.

Rain Laiti.

Resin { Anóga, for torches.

„ [166]{ Tita, for canoe seams.

Rope Fili.

Run Gágona.

Same Umbilua.

Sea Keno; Kelo.

Short Papa.

Shut Dakopi.

Sick Mate; Sali.

Sing (to) Gatu.

Sister Fafini.

Sit Ahotu.

Sky Abu; Avu.

Sleep Suéli.

Small Kaidakína.

Smoke Tula.

Speak Arei; Selli-selli.

Spear Portulu.

Spirit Nito; Nitu.

Star Bito-bito.

Stone Patu.

Stop Aru.

Sun Feo; Isang.

Swim (to) Usu.

Tail Aukuna.

Tambu (forbidden) Olatu.

Tear Igati.

Thin Morsu.

Thirsty Fana-oa.

To-day Ibai.

To-morrow Boiwa

Town Famaca.

Tray Kisu; Kishu.

(The name of the palm supplying the material for making the trays

is also “kisu.”)

Tree Au; Ava.

Waist-cloth Malioto.

Wait Au.

Walk (to) Dagona.

Wash (to) Sisi.

Water Ateli (fresh).

„ Kelo; Keno (salt).

Wet Pu-un.

What? Afana?

When? Lefila?

Whistle (to) Faso.

Wife Ewa.

Wind Oa.

Woman Batafa; Bataha; Talai-ina.

Wood Au.

Work Karre.

Worn Tualina.

Yes O-o.

Yesterday Lafi.

[166] These are also the native names of the trees supplying the

resins, the _anoga_ being probably a species of “Canarium,” the

_tita_, “Parinarium laurinum.”

_Numerals._

One Ilia; Kala.

Two Elua.

Three Épisa; Ébisha.

Four Efáte; Efatsi.

Five Lima.

Six Onomo; Onoma.

Seven Fito; Fit.

Eight Alu.

Nine Ulia.

Ten Láfulu.

Eleven Láfulu kala.

Twelve Láfulu élua.

Thirteen Láfulu épisa

Fourteen Láfulu efáte

Fifteen Láfulu lima.

Sixteen Láfulu ónomo.

Seventeen Láfulu fito.

Eighteen Láfulu alu.

Nineteen Láfulu úlia.

Twenty Tanuge; Tana oge.

Thirty Pisa-vulu.

Forty Fatia-vulu.

Fifty Lima-hulu.

Sixty Nomo-fulu.

Seventy Fitua-fulu.

Eighty Alua-fulu.

Ninety Tia-fulu; Sia-fulu.

Hundred Latu; Latu-u.

_Parts of Body._

Ankle Sapolu.

Arm Pagolo.

Beard Polu.

Cheek Papala.

Chest Ate.

Chin Ali.

Ear Tana.

Elbow Tau.

Eye Mata; Shoï.

Eyebrow Metapolissi.

Face Laia.

Finger Kim.

Fist Gogumu.

Foot Toto.

Hair Tawo; Uutu.

Hand Imai; Ime.

Head Alapatu; To-o.

Leg Tatabua; Nanabu; Tato.

Lip Ulu.

Mouth Uruguru.

Neck Lua.

Nose Leo; Le-u.

Shoulder Fali.

Stomach Muru.

Thumb Gagata.

Toe Kuri-kurisi.

Tongue Miata.

Tooth Nifo; Nifa.

Trunk Tia.

Waist Buli.

_Geographical and Nautical._

Cape Manavo.

Drift Ali.

Hill Soma.

Island Nua-nua; Pete.

Land Mesola.

Mountain Olo.

Passage Ai.

Rain Laiti.

Reef Aru-oshe; Butulu.

River Ateli; Atele; Sallile.

Rock Pushai.

Sand Mesola-lanun.

Sea Keno; Kelo.

Shallow Seala.

Sky Abu.

Steep (to) Suele.

Stream Ateli; Atele; Sallile.

Tide Tofala.

Wind Oa.

{Pull Fosi.

Rowing {Back Palma.

{Stop Atti-horsi.

_Animal Kingdom._

Ant Doku.

Bat (Pteropidæ) Dramo.

Bird Maraka; Maruka.

Butterfly Bebe.

Cockatoo Anau.

Crocodile Umau.

Dog Au-au.

Eel Tolo.

Fire-fly Bito-bito.

Fish Ianna; Ienna.

Fly Lau-au.

Fowl Kokole.

Frog Appa-appa.

Hornbill Po-po.

Lizard Kurru-rupu.

Opossum (Cuscus) Mali.

Osprey Manuella.

Parrot Karro.

Pig Boa.

Pigeon Baólo.

Rat Kuáki.

Shark Bao.

Snake Nifii.

Turtle Palúsi.

Turtle-shell Purai.

_Pronouns._

My Gu, as a suffix, _e.g._ Toto-gu, my

foot.

Your Ng, as a suffix, _e.g._ Toto-ng, your

foot.

You Maito.

Him Ealai.

These Ea.

Those Oa.

_Names of Natives._

Men.--Gorai; Mule; Kópana; Krepas; Kurra-kurra; Erosini; Tutu; Lawi;

Sege; Fauli; Kiliusi; Gégora; Nito; Émara; Olega; Malakolo; Butiu;

Igeti; Ki´kila; Totono; Gélesi; Dúkutau; Alisa; Iri-isa; Sahi; Oïsi;

Karubo; Devi; Dansi; Kamo; Fulagi; Pilaisi; Maluka; Tokura; Misiki;

Levo; Tunu; Biro.

Women.--Kaika; Bito; Siali; Évenu; Bose; Omakau; Domari; Duia.

_Vegetables, Fruits,[167] &c._

[167] The native names of most of the common plants will be found in

the list given on pages 294-304. _Vide_ also remarks on page 280.

Banana Toitoi.

Wild Plantain Kalula.

Breadfruit Balia.

Betel-nut Olega.

Cocoa-nut Niu.

Sago Nami; Bia.

Taro (small) Koko.

Taro (large) Karafai.

Tobacco Brubush.

_Short Sentences and Phrases._

Where have you come from? Tiga fina?

I come from Alu. Tiga Alu.

I want it. Ai peko.

I do not want it. Abu ai peko.

I give you. Fantellao.

Give me. Tellao.

Will you give me? Tellao fa?

I do not give you. Abu hanatellao.

Do I go this way? Fina fanato?

What do you want? Ahana pe-una? Ahampeo?

What do you do? Ahana wussa?

What is this? Mai-ito ahampeo?

I go. Falalau.

Go away. Fato.

He goes. Onalau.

Let me see. Fanaroro.

Take it. Na.

I take it. Nto.[168]

[168] This is an expression of acknowledgment rather than of

thanks.

In a recent work on the Melanesian languages, the Rev. Dr.

Codrington[169] deals with the languages of the islands of the Solomon

Group which lie east of New Georgia. Some of them, as he observes, fall

naturally into two divisions: those which belong to Ulaua, Malaita, Ugi,

San Cristoval, and the part of Guadalcanar adjacent; and those of

Florida, the parts of Guadalcanar opposite, and the nearest extremity of

Ysabel. In the first region, the language of Fagani on the north coast

of San Cristoval, is somewhat distinct; and in the second, that of Savo

is strangely different in some respects.[170]

[169] “The Melanesian Languages,” by R. H. Codrington, D.D.

Clarendon Press, 1885.

[170] For instance, the Savo notation forms an exception to the

decimal system of counting which prevails in the Solomon Islands.

The languages of the large islands of Choiseul, Bougainville, and Bouka

and of the numerous smaller islands in their vicinity, or, in other

words, the languages of the western portion of the Solomon Group have

hitherto scarcely come within the cognizance of the philologist, and are

therefore not referred to by Dr. Codrington in his comprehensive work.

It is probable that that of the islands of Bougainville Straits may form

the centre of another group of the Solomon Island languages, as it is

spoken by a dominant tribe of natives who have extended their raids to

the island of Bouka. Yet, it is a singular circumstance that the natives

of Takura, a village on the adjoining coast of Bougainville, cannot

understand the language spoken by the inhabitants of the islands of

Bougainville Straits. I met twelve of the Takura men visiting the island

of Faro, who were only able to make themselves understood by the Faro

people through the medium of an interpreter.

Little communication appears to take place between the natives of the

Straits and those of the islands of Vella-la-vella, Ronongo, and Simbo

(Narovo) to the eastward; and judging from a vocabulary obtained by

Captain Cheyne[171] in 1844 from the inhabitants of Simbo, or Eddystone

Island as it is also called, a native of this island would be scarcely

able to make himself understood by the people of Treasury Island nearly

eighty miles away. As shown in the foot-note[172] where the numerals up

to ten are compared, all the Simbo numbers with the exception of those

signifying _five_, _seven_, and _eight_ are apparently distinct. Many of

the common terms are equally different; so that it would appear that the

inhabitants of this island speak a language referable to a distinct

group of the Solomon Island languages, probably to be classed with those

spoken by the natives of Ronongo, Vella-la-vella, Kulambangra, and

perhaps New Georgia.

[171] “A Description of Islands in the Western Pacific Ocean.”

London 1852.

[172] _Simbo_ _Treasury_

_One_ Kamee { Ilia

{ Kala

_Two_ Karu Elua

_Three_ Kuay Episa

_Four_ Mantee Efate

_Five_ Leema Lima

_Six_ Wouama Onomo

_Seven_ Weetu Fito

_Eight_ Kalu Alu

_Nine_ Seang Ulia

_Ten._ Manosa. Lafulu.

_Sun_ Gawaso { Feo

{ Isang

_Moon_ Popu Ilella

_Fire_ Eku Feli

_Sleep_ Puta Sueli

_Spear_ Opuree Portulu

_Bad_ Ekarenah Paitena

_Star._ Keenda. Bito-bito.

I forbear from making many remarks on the general affinities of the

language of the islands of Bougainville Straits, and prefer to leave

such a comparison to those qualified to pronounce on the subject. There

are, however, certain points to which I will briefly refer.

Professor Keane, to whom I sent a portion of this vocabulary, informs me

that whilst the structure of the language and most of the words are

distinctly Papuan, the numerals and several terms are Polynesian.

However, whilst I was engaged in collecting plants and making general

botanical notes in this locality, it occurred to me that by comparing

the names of the common littoral trees with those of the same trees in

other Pacific groups and in the Indian or Malay Archipelago, I might

obtain some important additional clues as to the sources of the

language. In so doing I have obtained some interesting results, to which

I have briefly alluded on a previous page, and which go to show that the

peoples who originally migrated from the Indian Archipelago to the

various Pacific groups carried with them the names of several of their

common littoral trees, some of which may still be found in the

intermediate groups of islands, such as the Solomon Islands, which have

served as stepping-stones or halting places along the line of migration.

On page 101 I have taken “Barringtonia speciosa” as an illustration. I

will now refer to some other instances.

After examining the pages of Crawfurd’s Malay Dictionary, together with

the extensive list of the native names of plants obtained by G. J.

Filet, I have ascertained that the following names of pandanus-trees

belonging to languages of the Indian Archipelago may be traced across

the South Pacific to the Austral Islands, viz., _Harassas_,

_Haragh-hagh_, _Pudak_, _Putih_.[173][174] In the islands of

Bougainville Straits the four common pandanus-trees are known as

_Darashi_, _Sararang_, _Pota_, and _Samala_. In the Sikyana or Stewart

Islands off the eastern end of the Solomon Group, the pandanus is named

_Dawa_.[175] The Fijians name the “Pandanus odoratissimus”

_Balawa_.[176] In the Hervey Group and in the surrounding islands, as we

learn from Mr. Wyatt Gill,[177] the “Pandanus odoratissimus” is the

_Ara_ of the natives, whilst the “Pandanus utilis” is the _Rauara_; the

first being the Thatch-tree, and the last the Mat-tree. In the Austral

Islands further to the eastward, the names of the pandanus-trees were

ascertained by Dr. G. Bennett to be _Hoshoa_, _Sahang_, and _Pauhuf_

(“Pandanus odoratissimus.”)[178]

[173] _Pudak_ (Pandanus inermis), _Pandan-pudak_ (P. moschatus),

_Pandan-putih_ (P. leucacanthus). _Vide_ Crawfurd’s Malay

Dictionary.

[174] _Haragh-hagh_ (Pandanus moschatus) Sundaneesch, _Harassas

leutiek_ (P. humilis) Sundaneesch, _Harrassas gedeh_ (P. caricosus)

Sundaneesch. _Vide_ “De Inlandsche Plantennamen,” by G. J. Filet,

published in “Natuurkundig Tijdschrift voor Nederlandsch Indie.”

Deel xix. vierde serie, deel v. Batavia, 1859. Another list by J. C.

M. Radermacher occurs in “Bataviaasch Genootschap,” deel i. p. 87.

[175] Scherzer’s “Voyage of the Novara,” vol. ii. p. 617. London,

1861-63.

[176] Seemann’s “Mission to Viti.” London, 1862.

[177] “Jottings from the Pacific,” pp. 183, 188. London, 1885.

[178] “Gatherings of a Naturalist in Australasia,” p. 389. London,

1859.

Indian Archipelago Haragh-hagh Harrassas Pudak, Putih.

Bougainville Straits Sararang Darashi Pota.

Sikyana Islands Dawa.

Fiji Group Balawa.

Hervey Group, and vicinity Rauara, Ara.

Austral Islands Sahang Hoshoa Pauhuf.

By arranging these names as in the above list, the important bearings of

such a comparison are at once seen; and I may here remark that I have

attached no weight to the non-retention of the same native name for the

same species of “Pandanus” in different localities, since as in the

instance of “P. odoratissimus,” there is no evidence that would lead us

to expect such a close agreement. Most of the common pandanus-trees have

a very similar appearance, and there is often a general name given to

them in addition to their distinctive names. Thus the natives of the

Bougainville Straits often designate all the species by the term

_Sararang_. In the Indian Archipelago, the general names are _Pandan_,

_Haragh-hagh_, _Harassas_, _Pudak_, _Rampai_, &c. These are the names

which would be applied to any new kind of pandanus-tree during the

migration eastward of the races of this archipelago; and it is manifest

that as the separate Pacific groups of islands came to be occupied by

different offshoots of the main migration, the same tree might have

received a different general name. Therefore, in investigating the

nomenclature of the pandanus-trees throughout the Pacific, we should

concern ourselves not with a comparison of the names of identical

species in different groups, but with the general names for the whole

genus of “Pandanus.” We desire, in fact, to find the equivalent of such

terms as the _Ara_ of the Hervey Group, and the _Sararang_ of

Bougainville Straits.

That the names of trees possessing such conspicuous characters as those

of the genus “Pandanus,” can be traced from the Indian Archipelago

eastward through the Solomon Islands, and across the Central Pacific to

the Austral Islands, is a circumstance of considerable interest to the

philologist and anthropologist. We have already seen (page 101) that in

the instance of “Barringtonia speciosa,” the name may be similarly

traced from the Indian Archipelago across the Pacific to the Society

Islands. Another example is to be found in the case of “Morinda

citrifolia,” the Indian mulberry, a common littoral tree in the Indian

and Pacific regions; it supplies a yellow dye extensively used by the

inhabitants. It is the _Bangkudu_ or _Mangkudu_ of the Indian

Archipelago and the _Wongkudu_ or _Kudu_ of Java in particular.[179] In

Bougainville Straits it is known as the _Urati_; in Fiji as the

_Kura_;[180] and in Tahiti as the _Aari_;[181] names which are evidently

different forms of the same word, probably the _Kudu_ of the Indian

Archipelago. Another tree, “Fagræa Berteriana,” the sacred tree of the

South Central Pacific groups, is the _Bubulata_ of Bougainville Straits,

the _Bua_ of Fiji,[182] and the _Pua_ or _Bua_ of the Hervey and Society

Groups.[183] I have not yet found the original of this name in the

Indian Archipelago, the only suggestive word being _Büa_ or _Buwah_, the

Malay word for fruit.

[179] Crawfurd’s Malay Dictionary. Raffles’ “History of Java.”

[180] Seemann’s “Mission to Viti.”

[181] Bennett’s “Gatherings of a Naturalist,” p. 399.

[182] Seemann. (Ibid.)

[183] Wyatt Gill’s “Life in the Southern Isles” (p. 275), and

“Jottings from the Pacific.”

Before proceeding further I should observe that an inquiry into the

names of the common littoral trees, such as “Barringtonia speciosa,”

“Morinda citrifolia,” and the species of “Pandanus,” which are yet

preserved in the languages of the islands of the Indian Ocean, might be

productive of important results. Being unable to follow up this branch

of the subject, I would recommend it to some of my readers. As an

encouragement, I would point out that there appears to be a resemblance

between the names for the pandanus-tree in northern Madagascar, and in

the Pacific Islands. Thus the _Hoshoa_ of the Austral Islands, the

_Darashi_ of Bougainville Straits, the _Harrassas_ of the Indian

Archipelago, and the _Vua-tchirié_[184] of North Madagascar, may be the

same compound word in different forms. _Vua_, it should be remarked, is

a prefix attached to many trees and plants in this part of Madagascar.

With this digression, I will now proceed.

[184] Rochon’s “Voyage a Madagascar et aux Indes Orientales.” Paris,

1791, p. 319.

Amongst the native names of trees in the Indian or Malay Archipelago

which are to be found in an altered form in the islands of Bougainville

Straits, I may refer to _Kanari_, which is the common appellation of

“Canarium commune,” in the former region.[185] The kernels of the fruits

of this tree furnish a frequent source of food to the Malay races and

also to the inhabitants of the Maclay coast of New Guinea, where the

tree is known by the similar name of _Kengar_.[186] In the islands of

Bougainville Straits, where the same or an allied species of “Canarium”

is found, the fruits of which form a staple article of food, the Malay

name of _Kanari_ and the New Guinea name of _Kengar_ have been

contracted to _Ka-i_. . . . The sago-palm (“Sagus,” sp.) affords another

instance. It is, according to Crawfurd, the _Râmbiya_ of the Indian

Archipelago.[187] Earl informs us that in Kisa, one of the islands of

the Sarawati group in the Banda Sea, it is known as the _Pihir_.[188] On

the Maclay coast of New Guinea it is the _Buam_.[189] In Bougainville

Straits it receives two names, _Bia_ and _Nami_, the former (I think)

being applied to the tree and the latter to the sago. . . . Then again,

the two similar names, the _Katari_ of Bougainville Straits and the

_Gutur_ of the Maclay coast,[190] are applied in both regions to

resin-yielding trees which belong, however, to different genera, the

_Katari_ being a species of “Calophyllum,” and the _Gutur_ a species of

“Canarium.” In both localities the name is also given to the resin

itself, which is employed by the natives for various purposes. But the

important point is that these two words are merely slightly altered

forms of _Gâtah_, which is the general name for gums and resins in the

Indian Archipelago;[191] and I need scarcely add that gutta-percha is

but the _gâtah_ of the _Pârcha_ tree, the familiar “Isonandra gutta” of

this region.[192] . . . . Some of the names of trees in Bougainville

Straits I have been unable to trace further westward than New Guinea.

Thus, the breadfruit-tree (“Artocarpus incisa”) is the _Balia_ of

Bougainville Straits and the _Boli_ of the Maclay coast of New

Guinea.[193]

[185] In the numerous works referring to the Indian Archipelago,

this word is sometimes written _kanary_ or _kanarie_.

[186] Miklouho-Maclay in Proc. Lin. Soc, N.S.W. Vol. X., p. 349.

[187] Crawfurd’s “Grammar and Dictionary of the Malay Language.”

[188] “Journal of the Indian Archipelago.” Vol. II., p. 695 (1848).

[189] Miklouho-Maclay Proc. Lin. Soc, N.S.W. Vol. X., p. 349.

[190] Miklouho-Maclay (Ibid., p. 353, 357).

[191] Crawfurd’s “Malay Dictionary.”

[192] By an easy transition from _gâtah_ through _katari_ to _kauri_

we have the probable origin of the native name of the resin-yielding

“Dammara australis” (Kauri Pine) of New Zealand.

[193] Miklouho-Maclay in Proc. Lin. Soc., N.S.W. Vol. X., p. 348.

The term _Uri_, which is applied in a slightly altered form to different

fruits in the Melanesian Islands, would seem to be derived from the

Indian Archipelago. Proceeding westward from the Banks Group where _Ur_

is the name of the fruit of “Spondias dulcis,” we find that in New

Georgia in the Solomon Islands _Ure_ is a designation for fruit. In the

neighbouring islands of Bougainville Straits, several species of “Ficus”

and their fruits receive the name of _Uri_. To the westward of the

Solomon Islands we come upon the same term in the Mafoor of New Guinea,

where the breadfruit is known as _Ur_. Lastly, in the island of Ceram in

the Indian Archipelago, the fruit of the banana is called _Uri_.[194]

[194] I am mainly indebted to Dr. Codrington’s “Melanesian

Languages” for the distribution of this term.

On this unequivocal evidence of one of the sources of the languages of

the islands of Bougainville Straits it is unnecessary to dilate. It

should, however, be remembered that other words are distinctly

Polynesian in their origin, and must be sought for in the languages of

the Pacific groups. Thus, whilst _numa_, the word for “house,” finds its

counterpart in the Malay _rumah_ and the Javanese _uma_, _fale-fale_,

which also signifies a house, is the _vale_ of the New Hebrides (Lepers

Island and Aurora Island), the _vale_ of Fiji, the _fale_ of Samoa and

Tonga, and the _whare_ of the Maori. According to Dr. Codrington, these

two words signifying a house, _fale_ and _ruma_, with their various

forms, have an interesting distribution. The first belongs to the

eastern Pacific, and the second to the western Pacific; but they overlap

in the intermediate districts as in the New Hebrides and the Solomon

Islands. It is, however, significant that both these words should be

included in the language of Bougainville Straits.

I will conclude my remarks on this vocabulary with a reference to the

imitative character of the names of some of the animals. In Bougainville

Straits, the frog is known as _appa-appa_ in imitation of its cry. For

a similar reason it is known in New Britain as _rok-rok_,[195] in

Australia as _twonk_,[196] and in the Malay Archipelago as _codac_.[197]

The lizard is named _kurru-rupu_ by the natives of these straits, an

appellation which is suggested by its cry; in the Malay Archipelago it

is known as _kikia_.[198] The hornbill is called _po-po_ by the natives

of Bougainville Straits in imitation of the rushing sound that it makes

during its flight, which has been aptly compared by travellers to the

noise of a locomotive. For this reason the natives of New Britain term

it _banga-banga_;[199] whilst at Redscar Bay, New Guinea, it is called

_pawporo_.[200] In a like manner the native dog of these straits is

named _au-au_, and the bush-hen (Megapod) _kokole_; there is, however,

no necessity to supplement these more familiar imitative names from the

numerous examples in the languages of neighbouring regions. The native

names, which the frog and the hornbill have received in the localities

alluded to, will serve to show how varied may be the form of the name

which has been suggested by the noise or cry of the animal. There would,

thus, appear at first sight to be but little connection between the

names _po-po_ and _banga-banga_; yet those persons who have been

familiar with the noise made by the hornbill during its flight will

recognise these terms as distinctly imitative of such a sound. Again,

few would guess that such different sounding names, as _appa-appa_,

_rok-rok_, _twonk_, and _codac_, have been very naturally suggested by

the cry of the frog.

[195] Wilfred Powell’s “Wanderings in a Wild Country,” &c.

[196] Tylor’s “Primitive Culture.”

[197] Labillardière’s “Voyage in search of La Pérouse.”

(Vocabularies in Vol. II.)

[198] Labillardière. Ibid.

[199] Wilfred Powell. Ibid.

[200] Macgillivray’s “Voyage of H.M.S. ‘Rattlesnake.’”

CHAPTER XI.

THE JOURNAL OF GALLEGO--PREFATORY REMARKS.

A CONSIDERABLE interest was aroused in the minds of geographers, rather

more than a century ago, by the recent discoveries of French and English

navigators in that portion of the Western Pacific in which the Solomon

Islands are now known to lie. M. M. Buache and Fleurieu (pages 263-265)

endeavoured to show that the islands there discovered were none other

than the mysterious Islands of Solomon discovered two centuries before

by the Spaniards, the existence of which had been long treated as a

myth, and in fact, had almost been forgotten. This view was opposed by

Mr. Dalrymple, one of the foremost of the English geographers; and it

laboured under the serious disadvantage that the only existing narrative

of this Spanish voyage, on which such a conclusion could be based, was a

very brief and imperfect account incorporated by Dr. Figueroa[201] in a

work that was published at Madrid nearly half a century after the return

of the voyagers to Peru. There were some reasons for believing that

Hernando Gallego, the chief pilot of the expedition, had kept a journal

of the voyage;[202] but the geographical writers of the close of last

century failed to have access to such an account, and its existence was

doubted by some of them. The only other account, worthy of the name,

that was known to these writers was one included by Herrera in his

“Descripcion de las Indias Occidentales,” a work which was published at

Madrid about the year 1601, or more than thirty years after the Spanish

voyagers had returned to Peru. But this account was a somewhat vague,

general description of the Solomon Islands, which, although it

contained a few additional particulars, was of little service to the

cartographer.

[201] Hechos de Don Garcia Hurtado de Mendoza, Quarto Marques de

Canete; por el Doctor Christoval Suarez de Figueroa. Madrid, 1613.

_Vide_ Note I. of the Geographical Appendix.

[202] A MS. journal of Gallego was referred to by Penelo as

occurring in the Barcia Library. (Dalrymple’s Hist. Coll. Voy. and

Disc.: p. 96.)

It appears to have been only in the second quarter of the present

century that the existence of a journal written by Gallego became known

to geographers. It may seem at first sight difficult to explain the

reason of this narrative being so long unknown; but its author tells us

in his prologue that it was through fear he did not publish it; and from

other circumstances, referred to in the succeeding pages, it may be

inferred that pressure was brought to bear on him, and that the journal

was intentionally withheld in order to keep Drake, who had recently

appeared in the South Sea, in ignorance of the position of these

islands. The journal has for this reason always remained in manuscript.

The original manuscript was a few years since in the possession of Mr.

Amhurst. There is a copy in the library of the British Museum, which was

purchased of M. Fr. Michelena y Roiss in 1848;[203] and it is a

translation of this copy that is given in great part in the following

pages. In undertaking this translation, I have been greatly assisted by

my acquaintance with these islands; and I have thus been able to avoid

the pitfalls into which the somewhat careless copyist might have led me.

[203] The British Museum Reference number is 17,623; and the title

is as follows: “Descubrimiento de las Islas Salomon en el Mar del

Sur: 1566,” by Hernando Gallego, native of Corunna.

If M. M. Buache and Fleurieu could have had access to this journal of

Gallego, they would have been saved much laborious criticism, both on

their own part and on the part of others. That they were able to employ

the scanty data, furnished by Figueroa, for the identification of the

lost Isles of Solomon with the recent discoveries of their own day, is

an accomplishment concerning which any adulation on my part would be

both unnecessary and unbecoming. Even with the comparative wealth of

materials which the journal of Gallego affords, as contrasted with the

account of Figueroa, all that remained to be done was to fill in the

rude outline originally sketched by the French geographers.

The story of the gradual identification of the Isles of Solomon forms an

interesting and instructive episode in the history of geographical

discovery. In the sketch which I have given, I have, so to speak, raked

up the ashes of a controversy which burnt itself out some generations

ago; but the labour expended in its preparation will not have been

unprofitable, if I have been successful in placing before my readers a

clear and connected account of how the Isles of Solomon were discovered,

lost, and found.

THE JOURNAL OF GALLEGO.

We find in the prologue, with which Gallego commences his account of

this voyage, an explanation not only of the principal object of the

expedition, but also of the motive which led the Spanish navigator to

draw up his narrative. It was for the propagation of the Christian faith

amongst the peoples of the unknown islands of the West that this

expedition was dispatched from the shores of Peru; and it was to guide

the missionary to the field of his labour that the chief pilot drew up

his relation of the voyage.

“I understand it to be incumbent”--thus Gallego writes--“on the men who

follow the nautical profession, and have had the good fortune, in some

degree, to take precedence of their fellows, to give an account of their

success. And there are many reasons why it is necessary that from the

ignorant these things should not be concealed. But for me, Christian

piety affords the principal inducement; and especially since it moved

the mind of that most Christian and most Catholic monarch, Don Philip,

to write to his Governor, the most illustrious Lope Garcia de Castro,

that he should convert every infidel to Christ. Imbued with this

feeling, I have made it my first object, by means of this relation and

of the additions made by me to the sea-chart, to enable the

missionaries, who are to guide the infidels into the vineyard of the

Lord, to know where these places will be found and to learn how to

navigate these seas exposed to the fury of the winds, and how all

dangers and enemies may be avoided. This is my design, unless I am

otherwise convinced. Let the curious accept this brief discourse. It is

from fear that its author has not wished to print it. This is my object:

such is my desire. Receive, reader, this token of esteem, and be

steadfast in God. Farewell!”

Before proceeding with the journal of Gallego, it is necessary for me to

remark that I have relegated to an appendix much of that which is of

interest to the geographical student. The reason is an obvious one and

needs no further reference, since the narrative often takes the

character of a sea-log, and the geographical and critical points

involved are necessarily only of special interest.

The Governor, Lope Garcia de Castro, gave orders for the equipment of

two ships of the fleet for the discovery of certain islands and a

continent (tierra firme) concerning which His Catholic Majesty D. Philip

II. had summoned a number of persons versed in mathematics in order to

deliberate on the plan to be followed. After selecting the vessels, he

nominated as General in command of the expedition his nephew, Alvaro de

Mendana; as Commander of the troops (maestre de campo), Pedro de Ortega

Valencia; as the Royal Ensign, D. Fernando Enriquez; and lastly, as

Chief-Pilot--to quote the words of the journal--“myself, the said

Hernando Gallego.”

The number of all that embarked on this voyage, including, besides the

soldiers and sailors, four Franciscan friars and the servants, was a

hundred. The preparations were made with such alacrity and willingness

that the ships were fitted out with a dispatch that seemed scarcely

credible; and on the 19th day of Nov., 1566,[204] being Wednesday, the

day of St. Isabel, the two ships sailed from Callao, the port of the

City of Kings, which is situated, as Gallego remarks, in 12½° S. lat.

Shaping their course to the south-west, they had not to allow for the

variation of the compass, since the needle pointed direct to the pole;

and reference is here made in the journal to the circumstance that in

Spain, more particularly in the city of Seville, the needle varied one

point to the north-west. Steering in the same southerly and westerly

direction until the 27th of the same month, they reached the latitude of

15½°, being by their reckoning 57 leagues[205] due west from the “morro

de Uacaxique,” which was in the same latitude.[206] They now shaped

their course west, following along the parallel of 15¾°, because “the

Lord President had said that in the latitude of 15°, at a distance of

600 leagues from Peru, there were many rich islands.” With the wind “a

long time in the south-east,” they accomplished a usual daily run of

from 20 to 30 leagues. By the third of December, they were by their

reckoning in the meridian of the bay of Fego,[207] which is stated by

Gallego to be situated in 16° north of the equinoctial and 546 leagues

due north of their position. On the 7th of the same month, the

Chief-Pilot recorded his observation that the needle showed no

variation from the pole and that it neither dipped nor tilted up.

[204] _Vide_ Note II. of Geographical Appendix.

[205] Spanish leagues, 17½ to a degree, all through the narrative.

[206] I have not been able to find this name in any maps or charts.

[207] In the maps I have examined there is no bay of this name

given.

“At this time,” he writes, “I inquired of the pilots as to our position;

but I only provoked their obstinacy: and we went on our voyage sailing

across the ocean to discover land. We noticed the flight of the birds

that passed us in the morning and evening, and whence they came, and

whither they went towards the setting sun. All this was no certain

guide, as some flew north and others south; and there was nothing to

justify our pursuing the flying-fish which abounded in those seas.” It

is right that I should here allude to the importance attached by the

voyagers of this period to the flight of birds which had often guided

them to the discovery of new lands. It was for this reason, it will be

remembered, that Columbus swerved from his westerly course when

approaching the American Continent.

Gallego soon began to lose confidence in the opinion of the Lord

President, because pursuing their course along the same parallel of 15¾°

they failed to observe any signs of land. On the 12th of December, being

in the meridian of the harbour of La Navidad (a port on the Pacific

coast of Mexico, in lat. 19° 12′ N., long. 104° 46′ W.), there was a

consultation between Gallego and the other pilots, when their latitudes

were found to agree, but the dead reckoning of the pilots was greater.

At length, on the 16th of the month, it was resolved by the Chief-Pilot

to leave this parallel and head more to the northward, as they were now

620 leagues rather more than less from Peru and there were no signs of

their approaching land.

Accordingly the course was altered; and for four days they ran

west-by-north reaching the latitude of 13¾°, and accomplishing 166

leagues. During the 20th and 21st of December they steered north-west

for 65 leagues, keeping a good look-out for land, but to no purpose. On

the 22nd, after steering to the north-west-by-west for 30 leagues, they

reached the parallel of 11°. They then coursed north-west until the

26th, which was St. Stephen’s Day, having gone by their reckoning 95

leagues and attaining, as their observations showed, a latitude rather

under nine degrees (nueve grados escasos). It is worthy of note that in

the daily record, which was at this time kept by Gallego of the course

and distance and of the latitude obtained by observation, it usually

happens that the computed latitude is considerably less than that

observed.[208] In this journal, however, the latitudes are all those of

observation except where it is otherwise mentioned. During the 27th and

28th of December they stood to the west-north-west for 60 leagues; and

on the two following days they steered west-by-north for 62 leagues,

reaching the latitude of 6¼°. It is here recorded that the needle was

deflected a third of a point to the north-west. On the last day of the

year they sailed 30 leagues to the west, experiencing strong currents.

[208] This circumstance was, probably, due to a strong southerly

drift.

Hitherto no signs of land had been observed, and, in consequence,

symptoms of uneasiness showed themselves amongst the crews. As they

sailed along, they were led in their imaginations to believe that they

were always on the point of making the land; but no land appeared. “The

pilots told me,” writes Gallego in his journal, “that I was the only

person who was not disheartened after having sailed so many leagues

without seeing land: and when I told them that they would suffer no ill

and that, with the favour of God, they would see the land at the end of

January, they all kept silent and made no reply.”

The 1st of January, 1567, found the Spanish voyagers steering west along

the parallel of 6¼°; and in accordance with the opinions of his fellow

pilots, Gallego kept this course until the 7th, traversing in the time

about 125 leagues.[209] They now experienced unsettled weather, the wind

shifting to the north and subsequently to the north-east. Although

steering west-by-south, they did not change their latitude as much as

they expected; and, on the 10th, after accomplishing 30 leagues on this

course during the past three days they found their latitude in 6½°.

During the 11th and 12th with a very favourable wind they sailed 55

leagues to the west on the same parallel. Heavy rain-squalls here

overtook them; and they ran along under easy sail.

[209] For one day, Saturday the 3rd, there is no record in the

Journal of the distance run. To allow for this omission, I have

taken 18 leagues as being the average daily run during this week.

“On this day,” writes Gallego, “they signalled from the “Almiranta” (the

general’s ship) to ask where the land should be. I replied that it lay,

in my opinion, 300 leagues away; and that at all events we should not

sight it until the end of the month. At this time some of the people

began to doubt whether we should ever see the land. But I always told

them that, if God was with them, it would be His pleasure that they

should not suffer ill.” During the 13th they steered west 25 leagues and

found themselves in the parallel of 6°. On the following day they ran in

the same direction for 30 leagues, experiencing much rain and varying

winds. Their water supply was failing, and the minds of many were the

more depressed; for these reasons they ran on with eased sheets and did

not shorten sail.

But the long-expected land was near, and I will permit Gallego for the

time to tell his own story. “On the Thursday the 15th of January, we had

heavy showers of rain and such thunder and lightning as we had not seen

in all the voyage. We were distant from the land of Peru, on the course

which we had steered, 1450 leagues. In the following[210] morning we ran

with a light wind 15 leagues south-west-by-west, and were in the

latitude of 6½°. A seaman went to the top and discovered land in the

shape of a small island, which appeared on the port hand to the

south-west-by-west. We were about six leagues from it, because being a

low island it could not be seen at a greater distance. Keeping away, we

reached it at sunset. This island is low and level. It has many reefs

around it, and has quite a bay of the sea in the middle of it. After we

had arrived, I found the latitude to be 6¾°. We were eager to send a

boat in; but, however, it was thought best to await the arrival of the

‘Almiranta’ which was much behind us.

[210] The word “following” has been added by me, since from the

subsequent remarks of Gallego, it is evident that this land was

sighted on the 16th.

“In the meantime seven canoes full of people started from the island.

Some turned back to the shore and the remainder came off to the ship.

But when they saw so many persons, they returned to the beach and made

great bonfires. That night they put up flags, seemingly for the

protection of the island. We were not able to determine whether they

were mats of palm-leaves or of cotton, they were bleached so white.[211]

The people in the canoes were naked and of a tawny hue. When the

‘Almiranta’ arrived, we agreed that no boats should land until the next

day, as it was then evening. And when it dawned, it blew so strong from

the north-west that we drifted a quarter of a league to leeward of the

island. I wished to reach it, but could not, as the wind was so strong

that we could carry no sails. I advised that, if we beat up to reach the

island with the wind so strong and contrary, the ships might be broken

in pieces (on the reefs); that it would not be wise to run the risk of

losing all our lives for an island so small; and that seeing that the

island was inhabited, the rest could not be far away. Although being so

near to this island, we could not get bottom with 200 fathoms.”

[211] Mats of very fine quality are manufactured in many of the

Pacific islands.

The decision of Gallego naturally caused much discontent amongst the

crews. “The soldiers murmured”--thus the Journal continues--“because

they were unwilling to leave this island, notwithstanding that they

would run the chance of losing their lives. Being weary of the voyage,

they took no pains to conceal their displeasure. But I cheered them and

consoled them with the assurance that they would meet with no

misfortune, and that with the grace of God, I would give them more land

than they would be able to people; for this island (as I pointed out to

them) was not more than five or six leagues in size. I gave it the name

of the Isle of Jesus, because we arrived at it on the day after that

which we accounted the 15th of January.”[212]

[212] It is scarcely possible to identify this island with any of

the islands marked in the latest Admiralty charts. _Vide_ Note III.

of the Geographical Appendix.

As the Spanish voyagers were now approaching the scene of their future

discoveries, their course becomes of peculiar interest to the historical

geographer.[213] Continuing their voyage on the 17th of January, they

had before them a long and tedious passage, having to contend with

contrary winds and being swept north and south in turns by the currents.

On the 23rd, they were in the latitude of 6°, and on the 28th in 5½°. At

length on Sunday the 1st of February, when they were according to their

reckoning 165 leagues from the Isle of Jesus, they discovered two

leagues away[214] some banks of reefs with some islets in the middle of

them. “These shoals”--as described by Gallego--“ran obliquely from

north-east to south-west. We were not able”--so he writes--“to get their

extremity within our range of sight; but as far as we could see them

they extended more than fifteen leagues. We gave them the name of ‘Los

Bajos de la Candelaria,’ because we saw them on Candlemas Eve: and I

took the latitude near them, when we lay east and west with their

centre, and found it to be 6¼°.” On referring to the present Admiralty

charts, it will be noticed that the name “Candelaria Reef,” is applied

to an atoll lying about eighty miles to the north of the large island of

Isabel in the Solomon Group and named “El Roncador” by Maurelle the

Spanish navigator in 1781. Now, seeing that this atoll is not more than

six miles across, it cannot possibly be identical with the extensive

reefs which are above described by Gallego under the name of the

Candelaria Shoals. As shown in the appendix,[215] it is highly probable

that these shoals are the same with those which lie about 35 miles to

the north of the Roncador Reef, where they constitute an atoll fifty

miles in width which was discovered by the Dutch navigators Le Maire and

Schouten in 1616, and was named “Ontong Java” by Tasman in 1643.

[213] I would direct the nautical reader to Note V. of the

Geographical Appendix which refers to Gallego’s observations of

latitude in this group. He will thus be saved some confusion in

comparing the Spanish latitudes with those of the present charts.

[214] Thus the distance of these shoals from the Isle of Jesus would

be probably about 167 leagues in all. Figueroa gives the distance as

160 leagues.

[215] _Vide_ Note IV. of the Geographical Appendix.

Leaving these shoals, they steered south-west, expecting to sight land,

which could not have been, in the opinion of Gallego, more than fifty

leagues distant. During the night, however, they had to heave-to on

account of the heavy weather; and on the following day, which was the

day of our Lady of Candlemas, they experienced the same weather and were

obliged to take in all sail. During the next day, which was the 4th of

February, the weather improved; and steering at first west-by-north they

subsequently stood to the south-west; and as night approached they

shortened sail, in the event of there being other reefs and shoals such

as those they had already passed. The prevailing winds had been

north-west; but on the following day the wind went round to the west and

fell very light. For four days they had been unable to take observations

on account of the thick weather. On the 5th,[216] their latitude was

found in 7° 8′, from which Gallego inferred that in those four days they

had drifted fifteen leagues to the south-by-west. They now made sail and

headed north.[217] (?)

[216] There is apparently an error in the journal with reference to

this date, since the 6th is omitted altogether.

[217] The subsequent remarks relative to the course show that there

is here an error in the M.S., or in the original journal.

“This day,” writes Gallego, “was Saturday, the 7th of February, and the

80th day since we set out from Callao, the port of the City of the

Kings. In the morning I ordered a seaman to go aloft to the top and scan

the south for land, because there seemed to me to be in that quarter an

elevated mass; and the seaman reported land. The land soon became

visible to us; and a signal of our discovery was made to the ‘Almiranta’

which was half a league from the ‘Capitana’ (Gallego’s vessel). Every

one received the news with feelings of great joy and gratitude for the

favour which God had granted them through the intercession of the

Blessed Virgin, the Glorious Mother of God, whom we all believed to be

our mediator; and the ‘Te Deum laudamus’ was sung.”

They were distant from the land, when they first saw it, about 15

leagues. It is described in the journal as “very high.” Turning the

ships’ heads in that direction, after they had gone 3 or 4 leagues, they

discovered much more land belonging to the same island which appeared to

be a continent. They did not get up to it until the evening of the next

day, which was Sunday the 8th of February.

“Shortly after we arrived,” continues Gallego in his narrative, “many

large and small canoes came off to see us, displaying signs of amity.

But they did not dare to come alongside the vessels; and as we

approached the land, they kept away. However the General threw them some

coloured caps, and being thus assured they came alongside the ship. The

boat was launched, and in it went Juan Enriquez with eight musketeers

and target-men (rodeleros) to see if they could find a port to anchor

in, and also to search for the place whence the canoes had come. The

rest of the natives became more confident, and some of them came on

board the ship. As they behaved well, we gave them things to eat and

drink; and they remained on board until it began to grow dark, when they

got into their canoes and went ashore. And those who had gone away in

the boat, seeing that it was getting dusk, returned without having found

any port. As soon as it was dark we stood out to sea, and the natives in

the canoes returned to their homes. They told us that for the sake of

friendship we should have gone with them, and that they would have

entertained us and given us plenty to eat.

“We stood to windward that night with a light wind; and the currents

carried us more than three leagues to the west-north-west, bringing us

over some reefs on which we might have been lost as the sea was breaking

around them. Finding ourselves in seven fathoms of water, we at once

made course to stand clear of them. We remained under easy canvas until

it dawned, when we saw that the currents had carried us right upon the

shoals; and as the sea broke around us, we made more sail. I hailed the

‘Almiranta’ to make the best of her way out of her position among the

shoals; and we accordingly stood away until we found a sufficient

depth.”

Juan Enriquez was now dispatched in the boat to find a harbour for the

ships; but he was deterred by the sight of all the reefs and returned to

the ship. He was ordered by the General to go back again and carry out

his search, and “I told him”--adds Gallego--“that it was necessary for

the safety of the ships that he should find a port without delay.” The

position of the Spanish vessels was a truly critical one; and only those

who have been similarly situated in a sailing ship in unsurveyed waters,

studded with unknown coral reefs, can realise how anxious the moment

was.

“Committing ourselves to God”--thus Gallego writes--“I sent a man aloft

to the fore-top, and placed another on the bowsprit, and I told them to

notice where the shoals were white. The sounding-lead was kept in hand;

and in the event of our having to go about or to anchor, we stood by the

sheets and bowlines and had the anchor cleared. I steered for the place

where we found seven fathoms of water, as it seemed to me that we should

not find a less depth. The boat had not yet reached the shore, so I

determined to sound and I got twelve fathoms with a clear bottom; and

farther on it was deeper and also clear of rocks. Although it was

mid-day, a star appeared to us over the entrance of the reef. Taking it

as a guide and as a good omen, we were cheered in spirit and became more

hopeful. As we proceeded, the water deepened little by little: and I

informed the General that we were already clear of the reefs . . . I

signalled to the ‘Almiranta’ to follow us. As we neared the harbour

where the boat had gone, they signalled to us that they had found a good

anchorage. Presently we entered the harbour with the star over the bow,

and we anchored, the ‘Almiranta’ entering shortly afterwards. At the

entrance of the port is a rock (or islet), in size larger than the ship.

“It was the day of Santa Polonia, the 9th of February. The harbour,

which is in the latitude of 7° 50′, we named the port of Santa Isabel

del Estrella; and we named the island, Santa Isabel. The Indians called

the island Camba; and their cacique is named Billebanarra. This harbour

lies nearly in the middle of the north coast of the island, and is 26

leagues north-east and south-west from the reefs.[218] Having

disembarked with the other captains, I took possession of the island in

the name of His Majesty. A cross was erected: and I chose a convenient

place for building a brigantine.”

[218] The reefs, here referred to, are evidently the Candelaria

Shoals. This bearing of the harbour with these shoals does not

warrant the position which has been assigned to Estrella Bay in the

present Admiralty Chart, its position there being due south of these

reefs.

On the following day, Gallego landed with the carpenters; and they began

with all diligence to fell the trees and to saw the planks for the

construction of the brigantine. Meanwhile the General had sent Pedro

Sarmiento with thirty men into the interior. They penetrated about five

leagues, and met with some Indians, one of whom they took as a hostage.

This native was treated kindly by the General; and he was set at liberty

in order that he might carry a favourable account to the other natives

of the island. During this incursion, a soldier had been struck by an

arrow, but received no hurt. Shortly afterwards, a larger force was

dispatched under Pedro de Ortega to explore the interior. The expedition

included 52 persons, and comprised 35 soldiers, with some seamen and

negroes. They were absent seven days from the ship; and from the account

of Gallego, we may infer that but little discretion was employed in

their dealings with the natives. They burned “many temples dedicated to

the worship of snakes, toads, and other insects;” and, as the result of

such proceedings, two soldiers were wounded, one of whom subsequently

died of tetanus. His name was Alonzo Martin, and he bore the character

of a good soldier.

“These people,” writes the Chief Pilot, “are tawny and have crisp hair.

They go naked, wearing only short aprons of palm leaves. They have as

food some maizes or roots which they call _benaus_ and plenty of fish.

They are, in my opinion, a clean race, and I am certain that they eat

human flesh.” On the 15th of March, whilst the Spaniards were at mass on

shore, a fleet of fourteen canoes arrived at the place where the

brigantine was being built. The cacique, who was in command, sent the

General a present of a quarter of a boy, including the arm and hand,

together with some roots (benaus), which he requested him to accept. In

order that the natives should understand that the Spaniards did not eat

human flesh, the General ordered it to be buried in their presence, at

which they were abashed and hung their heads, and returned to an islet

which was situated at the entrance of the harbour. This cacique, who is

termed in the Journal the Taurique Meta, lived at a place fifteen

leagues from the harbour to the west-by-north. Pedro de Ortega, with the

two pilots, Pedro Roanges and Juan Enriquez, were sent with thirty

soldiers and four Indians to visit the place where this taurique lived.

They were absent four days, and effected nothing except the capture of

four Indians, two of whom they retained as hostages in order to compel

the natives to bring them provisions.

On the 4th of April, the brigantine was launched, and the rigging was

set up. It having been resolved that she should proceed on a voyage to

discover the other islands and harbours, Gallego, Ortega, with 18

soldiers[219] and 12 sailors, embarked on board; and on the 7th of April

they left the port. Following the coast along to the south-east, they

came to two islets, lying six leagues away from the port of Santa Isabel

de la Estrella, and situated, according to an observation of Gallego,

exactly in the latitude of 8°. On these islets were many palms which

were deemed to be palmettos and cocoa-nut trees. “This land,” as the

Chief Pilot remarks, “trends south-east and north-west. The needle stood

a point to the north-east and there remained. Proceeding on our cruise,

we saw many islets in the same direction . . . .[220] 5 leagues from

where we had started; and we anchored at an islet in which we found a

canoe and three houses. We landed 7 soldiers; and they went up towards

the houses in search of the Indians, who, however, carried off their

canoe. On reaching the houses, the soldiers found a quantity of

provisions, which they brought on board the brigantine. Continuing our

voyage along the coast, 17 canoes came out to us. In them came an

exceedingly daring Indian, who, calling himself the cacique Babalay,

held his bow towards us, and signified to us that we should go with him,

and that, if we should not wish to go, he would carry us by force and

would kill us. On account of his audacity, the “maestre de campo”

ordered them to fire and knocked him down with a shot; and when those in

the canoes saw him fall, they all fled to the shore. Shortly afterwards,

I tacked towards the shore in order to make a port, as the wind was

strong. In a little time we came to an anchor, and I found by

observation that the latitude was 8⅙°. . . .[221]” Leaving this

anchorage, they stood out to sea, with the wind in the north-north-west;

and in a short time they kept away and followed the coast along to the

south-east-by-east.

[219] According to the MS. in this passage, only 10 soldiers

embarked; but on one occasion during the cruise it is stated that 18

soldiers were landed (_vide_ p. 207), a number which agrees with

that given by Figueroa.

[220] The words omitted here are in the Spanish: “hasta la provincia

de Vallas.”

[221] Reference is here made to the fact that the coast ran

north-west-by-west with the island of Meta, which was seven (?)

leagues distant. This island of Meta was probably a small coast

island on which the chief of that name lived.

“And as we sailed on,” continues Gallego, “the mast sprung and nearly

fell on us. Seeing what had happened, I ordered the sails to be secured

and the tackle to be brought to the weather side, and in this manner

the mast was “stayed.” When the night overtook us we were without

knowledge of any port, having much thick weather with wind and rain.

Guided by the phosphorescence of the sea we skirted the reefs; and when

I saw that the reefs did not make the sea phosphorescent, I weathered

the point and entered a good harbour at the fourth hour of the night,

where, much to our ease, we passed (the remainder of) the night.[222]

This port is 6 leagues from where we set out, and is in a great bay. It

is capacious and has 7 or 8 inhabited islands. The next day I

disembarked the people to get water and wood; and we saw coming to the

beach more than a hundred Indians, carrying their bows and arrows and

clubs with which they are accustomed to fight. The ‘maestre de campo’

ordered those on shore to embark, fearing some ambuscade. Soon the

Indians arrived but they did nothing, and a canoe came. Seeing that they

made no attack, the ‘maestre de campo’ ordered four soldiers to go

ashore and fire three or four shots to frighten them; and when this was

done and the Indians saw it, they shot their arrows and took to flight.

Thus passed the 12th of April.

[222] To find in a dark night and in thick weather an opening in a

line of coral-reef on an unknown coast, is an undertaking fraught

with the greatest hazard, even for a ship possessing steam power.

The only available guide is that which was followed by this

clear-headed navigator; but it is one which, as it depends on the

luminosity of the sea, can only be of occasional service. When the

sea has been unusually phosphorescent, each roller, as it breaks on

the weather-edge of the reef, is marked by a disconnected line of

light, reminding one of the straggling fire of a line of musketry. I

once saw this phenomenon splendidly exhibited on the coast of Japan,

the sea-surface being crowded with myriads of “Noctilucæ.”

“Whilst in this bay we saw to seaward a very large island which lies

east and west with this bay. This island is called in the language of

those Indians, Malaita. The west extreme of this island lies east and

west with the point of Meta.[223] This island lies with the shoals of

Candelaria north-west-by-west and south-east-by-east 52 leagues;[224]

and the extremity of this island of Malaita is in 8°; it is distant from

the island of Santa Isabel 14 leagues; it has 5 or 6 islets at the

extremity, which are, each of them, 2 leagues in circuit. There are two

islets in the middle, between the two large islands. The name of the

Isle of Ramos suggested itself for this Island of Malaita, because it

was discovered on Palm Sunday (Domingo de Ramos).[225]

[223] The point of Meta is probably near the place where the chief

of that name lived. _Vide_ page 203.

[224] “Norueste sueste quarta de leste hueste” is the bearing given

in the MS. The distance of 52 leagues very closely corresponds with

the distance indicated on the present chart between the west end of

Malaita and Ontong Java. (_Vide_ appendix: note iv.)

[225] Through an unconscious error in the translations by Mr.

Dalrymple and Capt. Burney of the account given by Figueroa, the

name “Isle of Ramos” has been applied in modern charts to an islet

nearly in the middle of the passage between Isabel and Malaita. For

further particulars consult Note VI. of appendix.

“Coasting further along from this bay, we saw a fleet of more than seven

large canoes making for the shore where there were fisheries. The canoes

came on with us; and many Indians shot their arrows at us with great

shouting. The ‘maestre de campo,’ on seeing their daring, ordered some

muskets to be fired; and one Indian was killed and the rest took to

flight. On the following day, which we made the 14th of April, running

further along the coast to the east-south-east (?) we sailed nearly 6

leagues. Here the Indians came out to us in a friendly manner, bringing

cocoa-nut and other things which we needed. Here we saw a hog, which was

the first we had seen. The next day we went further out in quest of the

point and extremity of this island, running to the south-east. From the

bay to the point of the island, the coast ran north-west and south-east.

There are some islets near this point; and from this point to the bay is

14 leagues. I took the latitude and found it to be barely 9°. At this

point, two canoes came out to us with fighting-men, in order to question

an Indian whom we had on board, one of the two we took from Meta. They

shot their arrows at us; and when we fired a musket to frighten them,

they fled.

“On the following day, which we reckoned the 16th of the month, being at

the extremity of this island, we named it Cape Pueto;[226] and from here

we discovered some islands to the south-east,[227] which are 9 leagues

from this cape. Some lie north-by-west and south-by-east;[228] and

others north-west and south-east. And we approached them this day with a

fair wind, sailing to the south-east. We arrived at ten o’clock in the

night at an island which was a league and a half in circuit; and there

we anchored. It is low and beset with reefs. We sailed around it. It

has many palms, is inhabited; and it was there we passed the night. When

it dawned, we were desirous to land but could not on account of the

numerous shoals and reefs. It was named ‘La Galera.’ Here a canoe came

off to us carrying 50 men whom we perceived to be ready for

battle. . . .[229] It preceded us to another large island which was a

league distant. It was soon joined by many canoes both small and large;

and in (one of) them came a leading taurique. He came and approached us

in a friendly manner, and gave us beads (chaquiza), of the kind they

wear, which resemble those that are found in Puerto-viejo.[230] The

‘maestre de campo’ gave him a good reception; and in token of peace

presented him with some things which we had on board. Soon the taurique

commanded the men in the canoes to take the brigantine in tow and bring

us into the harbour, which they did. After we were inside, the ‘maestre

de campo’ landed with 18 soldiers; and I remained with 12 on board the

brigantine. The Indians soon took up their weapons, and hurled stones at

us, and jeered at us because we asked for provisions. Seeing their

insolence, some shots were fired at them, and two Indians were killed.

Thereupon they fled, leaving their houses defenceless. This island is

called in the language of the Indians, Pela.[231] And there is a chain

of five islands, which lie east and west one with another. The first of

these, which we came to, was at the east end, for we were pursuing our

discoveries from East to West; it lies with the Cape Prieto north-west

and south-east, 9 leagues from the said cape. It will be in circuit 12

leagues. It is well peopled by natives and has many huts and towns

and . . . .[232] To this island we gave the name of Buena Vista from its

appearance; it seemed to be very fertile, and was well-peopled; and the

rest are as above mentioned. They go naked, without any covering

_whatever_, and have their faces patterned (tattooed).[233] There are

many inhabited islands around. I took the latitude here, and found it

to be 9½° south of the equinoctial. It runs east and west.

[226] The name of this cape is spelt in three different ways in this

MS., viz., Puerto, Pueto, and Prieto. The latter is that adopted in

Figueroa’s account. Puerto seems to be the correct name as no reason

is given in the journal for using the epithet of “black” (prieto);

but the last is employed in the present chart.

[227] In the account of Figueroa this bearing is given as

south-west, which, as pointed out by Pingré, Fleurieu, and Burney,

is in contradiction to the other bearings, and was by all three

authors replaced by that of “south-east.”

[228] “Norte sur quarta del norueste sueste.”

[229] As the meaning is obscure, I have here omitted the following:

“and coming close to us” which is followed in the Spanish by “no nos

dijo cosa nise movieron contra nosotros,” which I have left

untranslated.

[230] A town in the province of Quito, in the kingdom of Peru.

[231] Gela is the present native name of the Florida Islands.

(Codrington’s “Melanesian Languages,” p. 522, _circâ_). Consult Note

VII. of the geographical appendix.

[232] “Lugares formados y juntos.” These words, which I have not

translated, are to be found unaltered in Figueroa’s account, and

have been rendered thus by Dalrymple “places cultivated and

enclosed.”

[233] “Las caras labradas.”

“On Good Friday of this same year we went from this island to another a

league distant. We found in it abundance of cocoa-nuts; and we placed a

quantity on board the brigantine for our sustenance. Whilst we were at

this island, a canoe came off to us with three Indians; they left us to

go from there to the large island; and they offered us hogs, but we did

not want them.

“On arriving at the large island, the ‘maestre de campo’ landed and came

to a town which was on high-ground. Here they gave him two hogs, which

he brought off with him to the ship, having met with no bad treatment;

and we returned to pass the night at the islet (?). This day was Holy

Saturday. On the following day, which was the Feast of the Resurrection,

we skirted the south coast of the island; and from here we went to

another island, which is a league from it. On our arrival, there came

off to us more than 20 canoes of fighting-men, who planned taking us to

their town and capturing us, and displayed much delight amongst

themselves. I ordered the anchor to be weighed that we might get to a

better place, because we were almost touching the shoals. When the

Indians saw that we were about to shift our position, they got into

their canoes in a great hurry with their bows and arrows, and clubs, and

many stones; and in a very fierce manner they began to shoot their

arrows and stones at us. Seeing their daring, we replied with the

muskets; and many Indians were killed, and the whole were repulsed; and

they rallied and came on to the attack with greater fury; but this time

they suffered even more, and for the second time they were repulsed and

routed. There were more than 700 Indians. We took three canoes; but

afterwards we abandoned two and kept the other. Deserting their towns,

they went off with many howls and cries to the higher land in the

interior. Soon the ‘maestre de campo’ landed with 20 men: and he

endeavoured to bring off some provisions to the brigantine, and to

restore friendship with the natives; but from their dread of the muskets

they would never approach; and they kept much in advance of them calling

to each other by conch-shells and with drums. Seeing that there was no

help for it, we set fire to a house, after having taken possession of

the island in the name of His Majesty, as in the case of the other

islands; and we gave it the name of ‘La Florida.’ This island is in

latitude 9½° and lies east and west with the island of Buenavista. It

is 25 leagues in circuit, and is a fine island in appearance, with many

inhabitants, who are also naked as in the other islands; and they redden

their hair, eat human flesh, and have their towns built over the water

as in Mexico.[234]

[234] In the present day the natives of Florida built their houses

on piles. See p. 60, of this work.

“This day we went on to other islands which are further to the east in

the same latitude. The first has a circuit of 25 leagues. We had not

resistance from them (the Indians); because they had already come to

know that they could not overcome us, if we were prepared for them. To

this island, we gave the name of San Dimas. We did not go to the

remaining islands that we might not hinder ourselves. We named the one

San German, and the other the Island of Guadalupe.” (_Vide_ Note VII. of

the Geographical Appendix.)

“The next morning we went to another very large island which is on the

south side of the five islands. In the middle of the way, or half-way

between them, is an island which we named Sesarga. It is 8 leagues in

circuit. This island is high and round and well-peopled; with plenty of

food, _mames_ and _panales_[235] and roots and hogs [which have no grain

to eat?]. In the middle of this island there is a volcano, which is

continually emitting great smoke. It has a white streak which resembles

a road descending from the higher parts down to the sea. This island is

in latitude 9¾°. With the island of Buenavista it lies north-west and

south-east (?).[236] Five leagues from this island, there came out 5

canoes; and they gave us a fish, telling us by signs that we should go

with them to their island, and that they would give us hogs. The Indians

went away; and we slept this night at sea.

[235] Figueroa gives for _mames_, _ynanimes_; and for _panales_,

_panays_. In the first instance, “yams” are probably meant; whilst,

in the second case, Burney suggests that by _panays_ the

“breadfruit” may be referred to. Fleurieu hints that it may be the

application of the name of the “parsnip” to some other vegetable.

The “taro” is evidently here alluded to.