BATHING _AL FRESCO_—THE UPPER REWA—BARTER—NATIVE HOUSES—A
FUNERAL—WEDDINGS—GRACE.
NAKORO VATU (THE STONE TOWN), _December 19, 1875_.
DEAREST JEAN,—You will have heard from Eisa of our start from Rewa. Now
we are a long way up the river, and indulging in a sort of continuous
picnic, which is full of interest to me, though very difficult to
describe so as to convey to you any idea of its fascination to one
actually living in it.
The stream, of course, narrowed rapidly as we ascended, and in doing
so gained immensely in interest. Gradually we approached beautiful
mountain-ranges, and whenever we landed and ascended even the smallest
rising ground, we found ourselves encircled by a panorama of rare
loveliness. But of course, so long as we were on the water-level
our horizon was bounded by the river-banks, and after a while the
mere loveliness of vegetation became almost monotonous, and we found
ourselves gliding unheeding past forests of tree-ferns and grand old
trees, festooned with a network of lianas, rich and rare, such as a few
days previously would have driven us into ecstasies of delight. Here
and there, where some quiet pool in a rocky stream offered a tempting
bathing-place, we called a halt, and therein revelled, while the boatmen
were boiling the kettle and preparing breakfast or lunch in some shady
nook at a respectful distance. No words can describe to you how delicious
are such impromptu bathes in clear sparkling streams, embowered in
exquisite ferns, which meet overhead, throwing a cool shade on the water,
and forming a lovely tracery, through which you get glimpses of the
bluest sky. And the light that does reach you is mellowed, and the colour
of the great fronds is like that tender green of beech-woods in early
spring; and the water is so fresh and delightful that you would fain
prolong your bathe all day.
We halted several days at Navounindrala, where the river branches off
into two heads, the Wai Nimala and the Wai Nimbooco, both too shallow at
this season to admit of the large boat going any further; so, leaving it
at the junction, we transferred our three selves to one very large canoe,
while two ordinary ones carried our necessary goods. Thenceforward we
paddled and poled by turns, as occasion demanded; and when any difficulty
arose in ascending rapids, we invariably found ready helpers willing to
lend us their aid.
We first proceeded up the Wai Nimbooco, sleeping at various villages,
in which no white women had previously set foot; nor, indeed, any white
teacher, for it is only a year since these people were cannibal and
heathen. The first native teachers sent to them died in the measles, and
those now sent to replace them are men from the Windward Isles, half
Tongan, and they find great difficulty in mastering the mountain dialect,
which differs greatly from that of Bau and other coast districts. But the
people seem eager to make the very most of their small advantages, and
everywhere we find flourishing schools and most devout congregations; and
our party receives cordial welcome, the villagers crowding round to shake
hands, foreign fashion. I certainly prefer this to having my hand sniffed
impressively!
In some villages the people brought very curious bowls, clubs, and
spears for sale, and I have greatly enlarged my collection. Some of the
wood-carving is so fine that it fills me with wonder, when I remember
that hitherto the only implements of these artists have been stone-axes,
and rats’ or sharks’ teeth to do the finer work. Imagine the patience and
contrivance which every carved spear-head represents. I bought several
very tall carved walking-sticks, used by the old men, which I think some
of you will like to adopt as alpenstocks, though you can never hope to
look as picturesque as the fine old men who brought them to me. They
generally ask for large strong knives, or so many fathoms of very wide
strong white calico, in preference to money, and are very discriminating
as to quality, having learnt by sad experience how worthless are the
cheap Manchester fabrics sent to these isles for trade with natives—mere
whitened shams, made up with dressing, and useless when washed.
Each night we slept at a different native house, and became quite expert
at rigging up our mosquito-curtains to the rafters, and constructing
little rooms of matting, to give us each a corner to ourselves, always
planned so as, if possible, to include an open door, to secure fresh air,
for these people are as careful to exclude the night air as any old woman
in Scotland.
When our sleeping quarters are arranged, then comes the curious evening
meal, followed by family prayers, with reading and singing, at which
are present a troop of villagers, who have previously assembled to see
the strange white people eat the food presented by themselves—happily
with the addition of tea and sugar, and white bread, which Mrs Langham
(notable housekeeper) succeeds in baking, on every possible occasion, in
a small portable oven.
All the houses, whether of chief or vassal, are alike built on a
foundation of stones several feet high. Thus the house is raised above
the damp ground. Sometimes you enter by steps, rudely hewn from one log;
and a wooden bowl of water invites the visitor to wash his feet before
entering. We invariably take off our boots to avoid dirtying the nice
clean mats. Every house consists of only one room, varying, of course,
in size; but the largest must be limited to the length of one piece of
timber, which is the ridge-pole, and with two other roughly hewn trees,
laid lengthwise, supports the frame-work of rafters, whereon rests the
heavy thatched roof, the whole sustained by upright trees, notched at the
top, and all bound together with strongly knotted stems of some forest
vine. The sides are supported, and doorways formed, by black pillars,
about ten feet in height, made of the stems of beautiful tree-ferns,
which here grow in such abundance that they are commonly used for making
fences, also for edging graves.
In building a large house about a hundred of these pillars are required.
Those forming the doorway are frequently bound with _sinnet_ (which is
a kind of coarse string), black, brown, or yellow, interwoven so as to
form most elaborate patterns, extremely artistic in effect. Sometimes in
churches, all the rafters are thus adorned, each being of a different
design, telling of the patient care that has been lavished on their
decoration. Sometimes, too, they are ornamented with pure white shells
(the _Cyprea ovula_), strings of which are also wreathed round the
projecting ends of the ridge-pole, and hang thence in long graceful
festoons.[22]
The walls, both of houses and churches, are generally formed of reeds,
with a thick outer coating of dried leaves. You can fancy how readily
such buildings burn on the smallest provocation; the only marvel is why
fires are not far more numerous, considering the extreme carelessness
with which the blazing bamboos, which act the part of candles, are
carried about; to say nothing of the fireplaces, of which there are
occasionally several in one house, and which are merely hollows sunk in
the floor, with an edge of rough wood dividing them from the mats. One
of these is generally in the centre of the house. Chimneys are unknown
luxuries; so the smoke floats about at random, and settles in rich brown
layers on the rafters, and on the household goods that rest thereon,
which sometimes include an old war-club of curious form, which probably
has made short work of many a foeman’s skull, or a long black spear, with
three or four feet of most beautiful and intricate carving extending
upward from the head.
There is generally a sort of scaffolding of rude posts and shelves above
the fire, which is used for cooking, and here, through the thick blue
wood-smoke you perceive various cooking-pots and earthenware jars. Carved
wooden bowls of various form and size hang round the walls: some with
curiously carved handles, of which you never see two alike, are used to
contain oil; others are used in the manufacture of the noxious national
drink called _yangona_ (elsewhere throughout the Pacific known as _kava_).
The large wooden bowls in which the yangona is prepared, and the small
cocoa-nut shells in which it is served, both acquire a beautiful enamel,
sometimes of a bluish colour, which is called the bloom, and gives great
value to the bowl. A few wooden pillows—merely a stick or bamboo on two
short legs—complete the scanty household inventory. There is no more
furniture of any sort.
All round the fires lie the family and their friends on their mats,
beneath which is spread a thick layer of soft dry grass.
We always occupy what I may call the “company bedroom;” for though
the whole floor of the house is alike covered with mats, the best are
reserved for the upper end, which is generally raised about a foot,
forming a sort of dais for the use of the principal persons present, and
often carpeted with a pile of fine mats. This is invariably given up to
us, and here, as I told you, we hang up our mosquito-curtains, and with
the help of a few mats and plaids quickly rig up our simple tents.
The other end of the room is generally crowded all day. Happily most of
the natives clear out at night; but so long as the rare spectacle of
three white faces is to be seen we cannot wonder at the interest created,
one which, I am bound to say, is reciprocal. Many of our visitors walk
for miles across the mountains, bringing us presents of food; for,
however poor they may be themselves, the customs of Fiji require that the
utmost hospitality should be shown to strangers; and in the case of such
honoured guests as a missionary and his party, every care must be taken
that they, at least, shall find no lack of whatever the villages can
supply.
After spending a week on the Wai Nimbooco we returned to the junction,
and thence turned up the course of the other stream, the Wai Nimala, and
at sunset reached this town. We were greatly tantalised by the charming
position of the teacher’s house, on a somewhat isolated hill, commanding
a grand view; but, as a matter of policy, we had to stay at the chief’s
house, in the very middle of the village, and felt it close and stuffy,
though it is a large house, very well built. Eight large trees form the
main pillars, while upwards of one hundred fine tree-ferns have been
sacrificed to make the small black pillars on either side. The walls are
of double reeds, crossed; very beautiful patterns of fine sinnet-work
(_i.e._, coloured string), on the lintels, and hanging curtains of long
grass. The chief himself is ill, lying before a blazing fire, which, with
a thermometer at about 80°, is scarcely our idea of comfort. The only
thing he seemed to enjoy is an occasional bowl of very sweet tea, which
Mrs L. makes for him, and which is a very great luxury; though to us the
lack of milk is a continual drawback. Sometimes we make cream by grating
cocoa-nut and squeezing it through a cloth; but though delicious for very
occasional use, it is so rich that we very quickly take a strong aversion
to it, and prefer to do without. Occasionally we get an egg, which,
beaten up, is really an excellent substitute.
A poor fellow in the house next to us was very ill all last night, and
died this morning. He was a stranger, with no one to mourn for him, so
he was rolled up in an old mat, with head and feet protruding, and thus
carried to his grave. On reaching the place, Mr Langham found it had been
dug too short, so it had to be lengthened at the last moment. It is a
pretty burial-ground, the graves, as usual, edged with tree-fern wood. I
had a solitary walk up the hill, through tall reeds, up gullies shaded by
rank plantains, all matted with lovely vines, and had a grand view from
the high ground. This village is clean and orderly.
To-day being Sunday there has been much church-going,—very large and
attentive congregations,—apparently most devout. After morning service
there were no less than thirteen weddings! Some were new couples; others
very old folk, who wished to be legally wedded on the occasion of their
becoming Christian and _one-wived_. The superfluous wives are in large
demand by men who hitherto have failed to secure domestic bliss. We also
had several baptisms—one was a big child, who was so much alarmed at the
sight of the white teacher that he ran away howling.
At this moment I am surrounded by a crowd of brown women, who have crept
up to me very shyly and cautiously, and are watching the progress of
this letter with great interest. Already some of them have begun to
learn writing, and many can read quite fluently. To-morrow there is to
be a great school examination. Supper is ready—roast pig and _taro_;
and all are hungry, but waiting for Mr L. to say grace,—so I must go.
Good-night.—Your loving sister.