THE STORY OF
CHALMERS OF
NEW GUINEA
BY
JANET HARVEY KELMAN
WITH PICTURES BY
W. HEATH ROBINSON
LONDON: T. C. & E. C. JACK
NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO.
[Illustration: Tamate and Robert Louis Stevenson in Samoa]
TO
MARGARET, JAMES, AND CHRISTOPHER
FOR THE SAKE OF
MY DEAR FRIEND
E. F. M.
Printed by
BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.
Edinburgh
WHY THESE STORIES ARE TOLD
SEVENTY years ago a group of children gathered round a wise and kindly
Scotchwoman, and ever, as one tale ended, they shouted, “Tell on, Bell,
tell on.”
Some of the stories she told are forgotten, and it is many days since
the fortunes she read were proved true or false, but other little
children re-echo the old request, and James Chalmers knew well how to
answer it when he wrote for us of Kone and of Aveo, of the wild waves
of the Pacific, and of the wilder men on its islands.
His life’s adventure here is over. He will not come back to us nor tell
us one tale more. But who shall say that we may not reach him one day,
greet him with the old words, “Tell on, tell on,” and listen, rapt and
eager, to stories of brave deeds and strange voyages in that new world
in which he lives?
CONTENTS
Chapter Page
I. Boyhood in Argyll 1
II. The “John Williams” 11
III. Rarotonga 22
IV. The Death of Bocasi 33
V. The Spirits of the Height 54
VI. Kone 64
VII. The Beritani War-Canoes 76
VIII. Tamate and Another 85
IX. The Charms of Aveo 90
X. The Barrier Reef 101
XI. The Fly River 108
LIST OF PICTURES
Page
Tamate and Robert Louis Stevenson in Samoa _Frontispiece_
A Branch that overhung the Water 4
The great grisly Creature 8
Coral for the New Staircase 26
Another Shout rose 62
The Spear entered his own Breast 74
Puss was dropped into the Boat 106
No Boat came 116
THE STORY OF
CHALMERS OF NEW GUINEA
CHAPTER I
BOYHOOD IN ARGYLL
JAMES CHALMERS was born sixty-five years ago at a little town in the
West Highlands of Scotland. He was the son of a stonemason, but his
home was close to the sea, and he was more eager to sail than to build.
One kind of building he did try. That was boat-building. But he and
his little friends did not find it as easy as it looked, so they gave
it up and tarred a herring-box instead. When it was ready James jumped
into it for “first sail.” His playmates on the beach towed him along
by a rope. They were all enjoying the fun when the rope snapped, and
the herring-box, with James in it, danced away out to sea. A cry was
raised and a rush made for the shore. The fishermen were fond of the
daring little fellow who was always in mischief. Soon they caught him
and brought him safe to land. But they shook their heads when they saw
how fearless he was. They knew he would soon be in some other danger.
When James was seven years old he left his first home and went to live
in Glenaray, near Inveraray. Still the mountains of Argyll rose round
his home. They were dim misty blue in summer, but in autumn and spring
they were strong deep blue like the robes in stained-glass windows. But
the new home was not on the sea-shore. James could not tumble about in
boats and herring-boxes all day long as he had done before.
Soon he found another kind of daring to fill his thoughts. From his
home in Glenaray he and his sisters had three miles to walk to school.
Other boys and girls crossed the moors from scattered farm-houses and
crofts. A large number of children came from the town of Inveraray, and
they gathered to them others whose homes lay between the town and the
school. Here were two parties of young warriors ready to fight. James
and the moorland groups were the glen party. The others were the town
party. Some trifle started warfare. First there was a teasing word,
then a divot of turf, and then before any one knew what had happened,
stones were flying and fists pounding, and the clans were at war once
more on the shores of Argyll.
The spirit of battle ran so high that on fighting days James and his
sisters did not go straight home. They joined the larger number of the
glen party and went round by the homes of the others, so that they had
only the last little bit to go alone. There they were safe from the
foe. But on days of truce they went with the town party to the bridges
over the Aray. The Aray is a wild mountain stream, and when rain falls
in the hills, it rushes wildly down and carries all before it.
One afternoon, when the sunshine had burst out after heavy rain, the
children were going home together. As they came near the bridges the
rush of the water and its noise drew them close to the banks of the
stream.
James was there. He heard a cry: “Johnnie Minto has fallen in!”
He threw off his coat and gave a quick glance up the stream. There
he saw Johnnie’s head appear and disappear in the rush of the water.
Without a moment’s thought he slid down to the lower side of the bridge
and caught his arm round one of its posts. Just above him Johnnie was
tumbling down in the wild water. One quick clutch and James held him
firmly. The water was so fierce and rapid that it seemed he must let
go. He did let go, but it was the bridge that he lost hold of, not the
boy! He let the current carry them both down till he could catch a
branch that overhung the water. By it he pulled himself and his little
foe (for Johnnie was of the town party) towards the edge of the stream
till the other boys could reach them and drag them on to the bank.
[Illustration: A branch that overhung the water]
Once James heard a letter read that had come from an island on the
other side of the world. It told of the sorrows and cruelties that
savages have to bear. He was touched. The stories of hardship made him
wish to do and dare all that the writer of the letter had dared. The
stories of sorrow made him long to help. He said to himself that he too
would go when he became a man.
But soon he forgot all about that, and thought only of how much fun he
could get as the days passed.
As he grew older he became very wild. He could not bear to meet any one
who might urge him to live a better life.
He entered a lawyer’s office, but the work did not interest him, and
he filled his free time with all kinds of pranks, so that soon he was
blamed for any mischief that was on foot in the town.
He was the leader of the wildest boys in Inveraray, but he himself
was led only by his whims and the fancy of the moment. Until one day
he found his own leader, who made work and play more interesting and
delightful than they had ever been before.
James found that his life was not aimless any longer. It was full of
one great wish--the wish to serve his hero, Jesus Christ.
Then he thought of his old longing to go and help those who were in
pain and sorrow far away from Scotland.
It was not only because he was sorry for them, and because he wished
to do the brave and daring things that others had done. These thoughts
still drew him on. But far more than these, the love he had for his
newly found Master made him wish to go.
He felt that it was a grand thing to be alive and young, and able to do
something to bring to other lives the joy and strength that had come
into his own.
Before he could go, however, he had to learn many things.
He went to stay at Cheshunt College, near London. The head of the
college was a great man. It made it easier to be good to live beside
him. Often afterwards, amongst hardships and dangers, his students
thought of him, and of what he had said to them at Cheshunt, and were
braver and stronger because of him.
While James Chalmers was at college, part of his work was to preach
at a village eight miles away, and to go to see the people who were
in trouble there. He was a big strong man, and enjoyed his walk of
sixteen miles. Perhaps that was why this village, the farthest from the
college, was placed under his care. The people there loved him, and
to-day they still are glad to think that the “Apostle of New Guinea,”
as he was afterwards called, once preached and worked amongst them.
Mr. Chalmers could be solemn when he spoke of God and of life and
death, and when he was with the villagers in times of sorrow and pain.
But he still enjoyed all the glad things of life that he had loved in
his boyhood, boating and swimming and fun of all kinds.
If he was in a restless mood when the others wished to study, the only
way they could make him quiet was to give him charge of his part of the
house. Then woe betide the man who made a noise. If some one else tried
to keep order and he wished to romp, nothing would silence him.
One evening at supper time, as the students sat talking round the
table, they heard a slow lumbering step in the passage. “Pad-sh,
pad-sh,” it came, nearer and nearer, till the door burst open, and a
great grisly bear walked in on his hind legs. The men started up. The
bear shuffled in amongst them. He grabbed a quiet timid student. Then
the lights went out!
[Illustration: The great grisly creature]
There was a great scrimmage. No one knew where the bear was, and no one
could find matches. Even brave men did not wish to be caught in the
dark by a runaway bear!
When at last the lights were lit, and they saw a man’s face looking out
from under the great head of the bear, they did not know whether to
laugh more at him or at themselves.
They had been jumping here and there and dodging about, to get out of
the way of James Chalmers in a bearskin!
The students were not the only people who were alarmed at the made-up
bear. There was an Irishman who came to the college to sell fruit. One
day, as he found his way along the halls, he met the bear. It was at
the end of a passage, and they met so suddenly that the poor Irishman
could save neither himself nor his basket from the paws of the great
grisly creature.
[Illustration: Map--New Guinea and the South Pacific]