CHAPTER XX.

NASOVA—THE MOUNTAIN WAR—A YEAR’S PROGRESS—FIJIAN HOMAGE.

NASOVA, _August 24, 1876_.

DEAREST EISA,—Here I am once more safely back from a long cruise in the

wilds, of which I have sent a full account to Jean. Our last halt was at

Savu Savu—a lovely bay, which I left with great regret, resisting several

cordial invitations to visit kind neighbours there. We started yesterday

morning at dawn, but found the sails needed some repairs; so we waited

five hours at the mouth of the harbour, and whiled away the time by

inspecting the old buildings and machinery of a deserted plantation—the

heavy cocoa-nut crushers and other expensive plant, now standing idle and

useless—always a pitiful sight.

We embarked in the afternoon and had a head-wind, which has been our evil

fortune for every bit of open sea we have had on this cruise. Verily I

am sick of sailing vessels! We had a wretched night—tossing about and

lying on the very hard deck not venturing to unfasten pillows or plaids,

from momentary expectation of shipping seas and downpours of rain. I

confess it made me wish many times that I had stayed at the head of

exquisite Savu Savu bay, which, they say, scarcely shows a ripple even

when a hurricane sweeps the land. At daybreak this morning we were off

the isle of Koro, and arrived here about breakfast-time to find that Lady

Gordon and the children are at Suva, and that Arthur Gordon has returned

from the mountain-war very seriously ill—from gastric, or maybe typhoid,

fever. The war itself has just been brought to a very satisfactory

conclusion, marking one bright point in Fijian history—the first since

annexation; and it has all been settled quietly, without any sort of fuss.

The Governor, Captain Knollys, Mr Maudslay, and Baron von Hügel, arrived

last night. On their return from the mountains they had gone to Suva to

see Lady Gordon, but were summoned here when Mr Gordon’s illness was

found to be so serious. Happily, Mrs Abbey and her husband are both

excellent nurses, and Abelak and the other Hindoo valet are most neat and

patient attendants. Of course Dr Macgregor is here, and himself had the

difficult task of conveying his patient all the way from the mountains,

where the fever first developed itself, owing, we suppose, to exposure

and want of proper food.

* * * * *

_Wednesday, Sept. 13._

Everything continues much as when I last wrote to you. Lady Gordon and

the children are still at Suva, staying with Mrs Joski. Of course they

must not return here just yet, though Mr Gordon is decidedly on the

mend, and to day was able to walk into the drawing-room with slight help

from Abbey; but he was very soon utterly tired out. Baron von Hügel is

busy making an illustrated catalogue of his huge collection of Fijian

_curios_, and I have been helping him a little, and also working up the

sketches I got on my last cruise while they are still fresh in my mind.

Our time on land was so cruelly short in proportion to that which we

spent in misery on the sea, that I generally had to content myself with

making very elaborate pencil-drawings with notes of colour, and these I

am now working out.

A terribly sad thing has just happened here, and cast quite a gloom over

the town. Do you remember my telling you, just after our arrival here, of

the marriage of a very popular girl to a young planter? A few days ago

she became a happy mother, and all seemed well; but things went wrong,

and she died yesterday. Her husband, supposing all danger to be over,

had gone on business to another isle, and returned by the steamer this

morning. All the flags in harbour and in the town were hung half mast

during the funeral; and when the captain hailed the nearest vessel to

ask who was dead, the poor fellow heard his wife’s name shouted back in

answer.

I have just been to see Mrs Macgregor in her new house. She is the only

one of all our sisterhood of last year still remaining in Fiji. Her new

house is, unfortunately, a good deal further from Nasova than the one she

has hitherto had; but it is convenient for the Doctor, being close to the

pretty little hospital, which is generally very full. I am sure you will

be amused to hear that the Doctor has enlisted my services in quite a new

branch of art. He is busy studying some curious skin diseases peculiar to

certain of the imported labour, which gives the patient the appearance

of being clad in moiré-antique, with a white watered pattern on a dark

ground. Of these patterns he has made various rough drawings, which he

has now set me to elaborate.

* * * * *

_September 16._

Colonel Pratt has just been here to call, looking very ill. He has had a

long spell of work at Suva with his Engineers, getting the land surveyed

and the new road begun, which involves being out a great deal in a

blazing sun, and is exceedingly trying.

Sir Arthur rejoined Lady Gordon at Suva in the beginning of the month,

Captain Knollys escorting him. The latter returned here two days ago, in

a deluge of rain, having been four days coming from Suva, beating against

a head-wind. Of course his boat was only provisioned fully for one day,

so he and his men had very short commons for the last three days.

Mr Gordon continues to improve very slowly, but we hope surely. The

Doctor says that so soon as he can be moved, he must go to New Zealand

for change of air. Our parson, Mr Floyd, is also going there next week.

* * * * *

_September 22._

Last Monday Captain Knollys started for Suva, in the Governor’s beautiful

new barge, which is a very handsome yet simple sixteen-oar boat, built

for him in Sydney. It was built on the principle of the landlord who

charged one of the Georges a guinea for a fresh egg,—not because eggs

were scarce, but because kings are so. In this instance Fijian governors

are scarce; and so, having ordered a boat worth about £300, Sir Arthur

is justly indignant at receiving one charged £750, and apparently he can

get no redress. Rather too hard, considering how scarce money is in this

colony.

The barge returned last night, bringing Sir Arthur and Lady Gordon and

the children, who look all the better for their change of air. This house

is really beginning to look quite cosy and home-like, and we all quite

enjoy coming back to it from our various wanderings. Nevertheless I am

already preparing for another start, as Captain Knollys offers me the

loan of his nice new boat (his yacht, we call it); and it seems a good

opportunity of paying my long-talked-of visit to Mrs Leefe at Nananu. So,

if all is well, my next letter will be from her house.

* * * * *

WAR LETTER.

NASOVA, _September 12, 1876_.

DEAR GEORGE,—You ask for some details of the war with the mountain

tribes. I wish you were here to hear about it yourself from Captain

Knollys and Dr Macgregor, who have been giving me most thrilling accounts

of some of their adventures.

Mr Gordon got through his work sooner than the others, and returned

here on the 3d of July, apparently in perfect health, and in very

high spirits. He then returned to the seat of war, and joined Captain

Knollys in the mountains, where they had some very rough and exhausting

work in routing the enemy out of caves where they had taken refuge.

This was satisfactorily done, and then, what with bad and insufficient

food, and exposure, Mr Gordon utterly broke down: he had to be carried

all the way to the coast,—four days’ very difficult march up and down

steep mountain-paths, crossing and recrossing rivers and streams, and

enduring great hardships. On the second day they were compelled to march

thirty-six miles, and had to cross streams thirty-one times, &c., the

Singatoko river eighteen times, and another stream thirteen times,—very

exhausting and difficult work. At last a small steamer arrived to bring

back the troops; and so he was brought here, and has ever since been very

dangerously ill with low typhoid fever. However, he is now beginning to

mend, and we hope ere long to see him as well as ever.

Well now, to tell you as far as I can in detail. You know that soon after

annexation, when the mountain tribes were only half inclined to accept

English rule, and still less friendly to the _lotu_ (Christianity), the

isles were swept by the terrible scourge of measles, which they assumed

to be a judgment from their insulted gods. They therefore “threw off

the cloth,” which is a formula for expressing that, by returning to

total nakedness, they utterly defy the _matanitu_ or Government, and the

_lotu_: they also allowed their hair to grow to the fullest-sized mop;

and having thus resumed the part of heathen warriors or _tevoro_—_i.e._,

devils—they proceeded, on April 12, 1876, to attack and burn the

Christian villages of Nandi and Nandronga, and ate sundry women. They

also attacked several Christian villages on the banks of the Singatoko

river; but here the marauders were repulsed, and their own villages

burned. They then attacked a village in the mountains, the people of

which were Christians, and had supplied food to the Government forces.

The villagers, old men, women, and children, took refuge in a cave,

where the cannibals soon followed, guarding the entrances, and firing on

them at intervals during the night. In the morning a party of friendly

natives and police (or, as the people still call them, _sotiers_—_i.e._,

soldiers) came to the rescue, and routed the _tevoro_.

Sir Arthur was from the beginning anxious to avoid anything like a

collision between white men and brown, and was therefore determined,

if possible, to treat this disturbance as a police question, without

requiring any aid from English troops. He was confident, moreover,

that with the assistance of friendly chiefs, the matter could be

satisfactorily settled, and that, too, at very small cost, before troops

could even arrive from the colonies or elsewhere; so he resolved to

dispense with all red tape—an article which only appeared on the scene

once, and that in a rarely useful capacity, when Mr Maudslay, sorely

puzzled how the Governor’s body-guard could carry their ammunition, being

clad in short kilts, with neither pockets nor belts, instructed them how

to make belts with bits of canvas, sewed with red tape, which was happily

found in the Governor’s despatch-box. That was on a special occasion,

when Sir Arthur (determined to see everything for himself) insisted on

visiting the mountains in person, accompanied by Mr Maudslay. Before

starting on a march of some danger, it occurred to Mr Maudslay to examine

the arms of the guard. They consisted of most rotten old muskets. He says

he carefully avoided firing one himself, but happily no accident occurred

in testing them.

It certainly is a marvel that no lives were lost from the use of such

weapons—rusty old flint-lock or percussion-cap muskets, which had been

lying by in store for many years, all more or less decayed: and these

were in the hands of men accustomed to wield only spears and clubs. I

think Captain Knollys’ force had only twenty Snider rifles, and a scanty

supply of ammunition for even these, which were the backbone of the

force. As to the old Tower muskets, some even of those selected as being

the best, proved useless on reaching fighting-ground. A considerable

amount of tiring was always necessary to clear the bush round any place

where they encamped, to frighten lurking foes.

When it was found that a collision with the Kai Tholos was inevitable,

Sir Arthur sent to all the friendly chiefs to ask each for a small

detachment of picked men. Double or treble the number asked for were

sent, and a magnificent body of men was thus mustered, all eager for the

fray. One body of 150 men from Bau came to Nasova to report themselves

to the Governor before starting for the seat of war. All had their faces

blackened to prevent the sun from blistering them—and savage indeed is

the effect of this hideous cosmetic. They were almost all dressed alike

in drapery of white _tappa_, and the _liku_ (fringe kilt) of black glossy

water-weed, like horse-hair: they had streamers of _tappa_ floating from

their arms and head. All were armed with old Tower muskets. They marched

on to the _rara_—the green lawn before the house—and there performed the

wildest devil _méké_, ending with unearthly yells. It was a very striking

scene. Then they advanced, two or three at a time, throwing themselves

into wild attitudes, brandishing their weapons, which formerly would have

been spears or clubs, and trying who could make the most valiant boast

concerning his intended prowess.[40] One cried, “I go to the mountains;

my feet shall eat grass.” This was to express his eager speed. Another:

“I long to be gone; I crave to meet the foe. You need not fear; here is

your safeguard.” “This is only a musket,” cried another, flourishing

his weapon; “but _I_ carry it.” Said the next: “We go to war, what

hinders that we _fill all the ovens_?” (I fear that man hankered after

the flesh-pots of Fiji!) Another, holding up his musket, cried, “This

is the bridge over which you English shall pass into the mountains.”

“Why do you white men cry out? _We_ go to the mountains, and will bruise

even the rocks.” The second company came up stately, and only one acted

spokesman. “This is Bau, that is enough.” Others gambolled about,

extolling their (imaginary) club by name, as in olden days. When each had

had his say, one advanced with a green twig, which he laid at the feet

of the Governor’s native aide-de-camp. Then Mr Wilkinson made a little

speech for the Governor, and a gift of symbolical whales’ teeth, which

the messenger received crouching, and carried them to the corps, who also

crouched low to receive them. Two huge turtles and other good food were

then given, that they might feast before re-embarking on the Government

steamer which carried them to the seat of war.

Nearly the whole force of native police had already been despatched to

the mountains, where a permanent camp had for some time been established

at Nasauthoko, on the Singatoko river, in the western half of Viti Levu.

Mr Gordon did a sketch of this camp, showing two circular camps, each

containing about a dozen native houses inside a fence of reeds on an

earthen wall, then a ditch, and a second and third palisade. This stands

on a small piece of level ground, about 2000 feet above the sea, and

surrounded by hills of about 5000 feet. Round this the police force had

made large gardens, extending to the river, where they raise yam, _taro_,

and bananas for food.

The Governor appointed Captain Knollys commander-in-chief of the police

and all these irregular forces, with Mr Gordon and Mr Le Hunte as

sub-generals. Messrs Carew, Wilkinson, and Hefferman accompanied them as

interpreters, being all men thoroughly acquainted with the chiefs and

the people. Dr Macgregor was surgeon to the forces. The little army was

divided into three bodies, whose common object was to prevent the enemy

from reaching the great forests near the Singatoko, where they would

have been very dangerous neighbours to the Christian tribes, and very

difficult to dislodge.

The contingent of which Mr Gordon had command, consisted of 1200

undisciplined undrilled men of different tribes, each accustomed to

render implicit obedience to their own chief only; and all those

chiefs were jealous one of another, and always on the alert to scent

out slights. Mr Gordon says his principal work consisted not so much

in ordering details of fighting, as in taking a general direction,

and preserving friendly relations between these chiefs, and smoothing

their suspicions one of another. His task was rapidly and successfully

accomplished. After sundry strongholds had been stormed and captured,

several villages burned, and a considerable number of firearms seized,

the cannibal tribes on the Singatoko surrendered, and 848 prisoners

were taken. Of these, thirty-seven were known murderers, and were tried

as such; thirty-five were found guilty, and of these, fourteen were

summarily and most deservedly executed—the Governor being present to

sanction the proceedings, and confirm the sentences: nine were shot and

five hung. Their mode of death was regulated by the degree of their

guilt, the worst criminals being accounted those who were actually

receiving pay from the English Government, at the same time as they were

in league with the cannibals. The prisoners were all distributed among

friendly villages, where for a while they will have to work as labourers,

till it is judged safe to let them return to their own districts. Once

they have yielded themselves prisoners, they never dream of escaping—that

would be contrary to the Fijian code of honour; so they merely require a

nominal guard. This was in the latter part of June.

Meanwhile Captain Knollys was greatly astonishing the foe in his district

by sparing their growing crops, which was quite a new idea in Fijian

warfare (where hitherto the first aim of an enemy had been to ravage

the land, cut down the bread-fruit and banana trees, and burn the

villages). He says the people at one place, Nambutautau, fortified their

town by digging pit-falls in the long grass, and in these they placed

sharp-pointed, bamboos, ready to impale the unwary! The mountain-towns

are perched in all sorts of nooks, among great boulders of rock, or

hidden in clumps of bushes, or in cliffs of the rock. It is a country

fortified by nature, having precipitous crags honeycombed with caves,

and clothed with dense forest. The natives throw up earth-works and

bamboo fences further to strengthen their intrenchments. Sundry of these

rock-fortresses were places of very great strength, but were nevertheless

surprised and captured.

I think Mr Le Hunte was chiefly in charge of the camp at Nasauthoko,

which was a less exciting post, but one equally essential to the success

of the whole.

About July 10th, Captain Knollys learnt that a party of the cannibals

had retreated to a certain valley. Dr Macgregor was with him, and they

started in pursuit with about 200 men. They halted for supper, then

waited till the moon rose—the men whiling away the time with quaint

boasting, such as I have already described. Then came a difficult

night-march through the forest, crossing streams and deep gorges.

At daybreak they reached the Naindua caves, where huge boulders of

conglomerate rock have fallen in, so as effectually to conceal the

entrance. The whole valley is a network of caves, with a river flowing

at the bottom of the gorge. The _tevoro_ (devils) were firing from many

hidden crevices, their presence only betrayed by an occasional puff of

smoke. They were, however, driven out, and ten men and sixty women and

children captured. It was found that some of the worst men had only

returned from Levuka a couple of weeks previously. They had been working

for white men on a plantation in Taviuni, so that process does not appear

to be necessarily an improving one.

A nicely roasted human leg was lying on a mat, with cooked _taro_, neatly

laid out for breakfast for the devil priest, or rather priest of the

_vatu kalou_—_i.e._, war-god. This old _bete_—_i.e._, priest—was hideous

to look upon,—a noted cannibal and excessive drinker of _yangona_, the

result of which was that his skin was whitish, and he had become a sort

of albino. Very disgusting he was, and yet his devotion to his son, a

sickly lad, was so pathetic, that his captors were really touched by it.

He was taken in the act of escaping from his appetising breakfast, which

he doubtless sorely regretted, and which received decent burial.

In the promiscuous firing that followed, several wounded men fell over

the cliffs into the river. As a party retreated, routed, one man,

thinking himself beyond the reach of fire, could not resist a little

bravado, and coming to a dead halt, he proceeded, with all the dandyism

of a feast-day, to arrange the long folds of white _tappa_ which floated

in airy drapery, while he waved his great war-fan and challenged the foe,

_Vaka viti_ (Fiji fashion), to come and be eaten, and he would roast them

all. Dr Macgregor took a deliberate aim with his Snider rifle at 600

yards, and, greatly to his own amazement, hit the astonished man, who

fled wounded in the left arm. A week later he was captured, and became

great friends with the Doctor, who naturally took especial interest in

healing the wounds of his own production.

The Doctor’s work has greatly astonished the cannibals, who marvel to

see a man tending and healing his foes. He has taught them a new name

for his profession, declaring himself much aggrieved at being called

“carpenter of death,” when he is truly a “man of life;” so the Fijian

dictionary owes him a new word. He performed one very difficult operation

quite alone, in presence of a wondering crowd. It was necessary to

amputate the leg of one of the prisoners, so he made such preparations

as were possible, and commenced operations, when, as he was in the act

of administering chloroform (_wai ni mothe_, the water of sleep), he

perceived that his assistant was quite drunk. It was necessary to have

him at once forcibly removed, and the only other white man in the place

was Mr Gordon, who was very ill with fever. So here he found himself

alone with the patient under chloroform, surrounded by a great circle

of wild auxiliary tribes, all well accustomed to cut up human limbs for

the larder, but wholly unable to understand the present proceeding. It

was a difficult position. The operation must be performed, or certain

death was inevitable; so he proceeded with a most difficult task, which

happily proved quite successful, and the amazement of the spectators knew

no bounds. The grateful patient, on recovering, demanded that the Doctor,

who had deprived him of a leg, should supply a new one, and insisted on

his keeping him into the bargain![41]

One very sad incident in the cave-warfare was the death of a poor little

girl aged seven, who was accidentally shot through the heart.

The next places from which the foe had to be dislodged were the

Naquaquatambua caves, which are a nest of large caves round a deep

hollow—naturally a very strong post, and further fortified by the

inmates. The entrance to the principal cave is by a cleft in the rock,

not more than six feet wide, though perhaps twenty in height, and well

concealed by the network of roots of a great _Mbaka_ (Fiji banyan), the

interstices of the roots being filled up with rock-work, so as to form

an outer wall, with loop-holes, through which to fire at assailants.

Within is a large high cave in which were stored guns, ammunition, and

provisions—yams, pigs, and _yangona_; while in an inner cave, beside a

stream of water, were enormous stores of yams, whales’ teeth, _masi_,

abundant firewood, and all things needful to hold out for a long siege.

From the principal cave low passages lead to other caves, and these again

have outlets; and all these were carefully concealed and well fortified:

some could only be entered on hands and knees.

Altogether the post was one which might have been held for ever, and when

first the little Christian army was descried, on the hill facing them,

the _tevoro_ amused themselves by a little of the usual boasting; but it

seems their hearts failed them, for ere long a chief came out with a

_soro_ (_i.e._, an atonement offering). This was refused, so he returned

to the cave, and presently reappeared at the head of twenty-four men,

vowing that only the women and one old man remained within. However,

there was reason to believe that there were many more, and Captain

Knollys explored as far as he dared venture; but as many of the caves

could only be approached by crawling on hands and knees through low

passages, and as the enemy occasionally fired from hidden openings, it

was necessary to wait in patience. At last one man, who said he was the

chief of the caves, declared he would come out in the morning, but not

till then. Captain Knollys told him he must not come out, whereupon, from

sheer spirit of opposition, out he came!

A friendly chief, called Rovobokolo, was appointed to guard one cave

full of people. He did so for two days and nights, but did not at all

appreciate being fired at by unseen foes; so by a happy inspiration he

suddenly cried out to bid them escape for their lives, as the _sotiers_

(soldiers) had effected an entrance, and were about to fire into them.

This was a pure romance, but it had the desired effect of bringing

the foe to light. Forthwith they rushed out, and were of course taken

prisoners—in all sixty-one men, and a great many women and children.

There still remained a third set of caves at Nunuwai. It was, I think,

on the 23d of July that the besieging force reached them. They lie along

the bed of a stream, in a deep gulch, heavily wooded, quite filled

up by great boulders fallen from above, and forming caves, only to

be reached by crawling through crevices. These are innumerable, each

forming a loop-hole through which a hidden foe could safely fire out upon

assailants; consequently several of these were killed, only discovering

their danger by a sudden flash from some hidden loop-hole. It was just as

unpleasant a place to have to storm as you can possibly imagine.

Happily the _tevoro_ appeared to be divided in their own minds, and,

after much parley, one party agreed to surrender, but wished to bring

their women with them—and these were in an inner cave, which could only

be reached by diving through the water, under a rock, but each time their

heads rose from the water the non-surrender party received them with

levelled guns. They then expressed their determination to die in the

caves, but after two days Captain Knollys hit on the odd expedient of

enlisting some of the prisoners already taken as his allies, by promising

them easier terms than they had any right to expect. So these entered the

caves, and held long parley with the besieged, persuading about half of

them to surrender. As the remainder still held out, they took up their

quarters in the cave for the night, and amused themselves by blowing a

war-shell, which so affected the delicate nerves of the _tevoro_ that

they craved permission to come out—a permission which was withheld till

morning, in order to enhance its value. Amongst other relics, Captain

Knollys found the bones of one of his scouts, who had been killed some

time previously: he had been cooked and his bones picked clean. About

fifty men were here captured, and the most grievous criminals having

been tried again in presence of the Governor, six were most deservedly

executed, and the rest condemned to various terms of imprisonment or

servitude in the villages of the allies, where they are sure of very kind

treatment.

Of course the judicial part of this business was the most trying to all

concerned; but for once, I believe that all parties here are of one mind

in agreeing that the executions were positively necessary, and a most

wise measure. In every instance the man executed was either a notorious

murderer of the worst type, or else a deserter from Government service,

actually drawing Government pay. It is believed that this example once

set will deter future malcontents from trying this little game again,

and that much bloodshed will thus be averted, and a source of perpetual

danger entirely extinguished. On the other hand, the leniency shown to

the mass of the prisoners, the care of the wounded by skilled hands, with

all medical appliances, are a wholly new, and to them incomprehensible,

phase of British warfare.

Our people (the Christians) were wonderfully quick in practising the

mercy commanded; and though they keep up the old wild dances and songs

round the body of each fallen foe as they bring him in, there has been

no tendency to make a _bokolo_ of him, except in one instance, when one

of the wildest of the friendly tribes (our allies) brought to Captain

Knollys’ camp the body of a hostile chief just slain, and after much

palaver (being very hungry) craved permission to eat him. Of course this

was peremptorily refused, and immediate burial ordered. But when Captain

Knollys sent a company of his own men in the morning to see that it

had been done properly, they found the body barely a foot deep, which

allowed room for just a suspicion that some hungry men were waiting for a

convenient season to dig it up. Of course the foe had no scruples on the

subject, and I fear they had several hearty meals at the expense of the

assailants.

It is fortunate they did not find out how short of provisions the

besiegers were, for at one time their commissariat was at such a low

ebb that for two whole days they had nothing to eat but a few taro-tops

which they had the good luck to find—taro-tops being something like

old turnip-tops and leaves. This, while the enemy had abundant stores

of provisions! It is wonderful too, that, intrenched as they were in a

series of positions, each of which was practically impregnable, they

should have yielded so readily; and marvellously fortunate, too, that so

few of their stray shots should have done any damage. The only white man

touched was Dr Macgregor, who received a slight wound near the corner of

the eye, which happily was not serious.

There have been many most picturesque incidents in this little war. To

begin with, there is the way in which the warriors march to battle, as if

going to a dance, with scouts running on ahead of them fluttering large

grass or palm-leaf fans, adorned with long streamers or ribbons like a

Highlander’s bagpipes, only made of native cloth. With these they pretend

to sweep away any hidden foes who may be lying in ambush.

Then, too, is it not wonderful to think of what a war in this country

has hitherto meant, and the appalling horrors involved? And now to think

that, among all these so-called savage warriors, none should have in

any way brought discredit on their character of chivalrous Christian

soldiers. On the contrary, each body of men brought its own chaplain; and

in all the excitement of a struggle with hereditary foes, which but a few

years ago would have been a scene of horror and revolting bloodshed and

crime, the camps were kept free from taint.

It savours rather of an army of Puritans to know that every morning, at

the very first streak of dawn, each separate tribe composing that little

army mustered in array to join the teacher in saying the Lord’s Prayer,

and a short prayer suited to the requirements of the day. And every

evening, after the excitement of the day was over, each house separately

had reading of the Scriptures, singing, and prayer; and every man in the

force knelt as reverently as he would have done at family worship in his

peaceful village home. I wonder of how many so-called civilised armies

all this could be said?

But to return to the caves. The last had scarcely been captured when Mr

Gordon became utterly prostrate from what has proved to be a very serious

attack of low typhoid fever. I told you he had been here for a few days

after finishing work in his own district, and before proceeding to join

Captain Knollys; and we think he must have contracted it here, as there

have been several bad cases of the same type, and at least two men have

died of it, including the builder of this house. The caves were right

in the interior of Viti Levu; and as I mentioned to you, the return

march was fearfully trying, both for a sick man and those in charge of

him—Fijian mountain paths being pretty severe work for the strongest man.

Happily Dr Macgregor was able to be in close attendance.

To make matters worse, they had literally nothing that he could eat.

The Doctor thought he had secured a prize in an old hen belonging to a

teacher, but the owner begged she might be spared, as she was “giving

milk”—a striking discovery in ornithology! But it seems this is the

Fijian equivalent for _laying_. I suppose that as cows and hens are both

imported animals, it was assumed that the same term would be equally

expressive. But the teacher promised to bring some excellent eggs to make

flip, and soon returned with a dozen. On the first being cracked a fine

chicken appeared,—so _that_ was not of much use! At last they readied

the coast, where a hospitable planter took care of the patient till a

steamer, specially chartered for the occasion, arrived to take away most

of the troops and about a hundred of the worst prisoners, who are to have

a turn of hard work for their country’s good.

The said steamer is one hired temporarily from New Zealand; but the

luckless Government steamer Fitzroy, which was bought for £7000 when

we came here, ran on to a coral-reef last month, and is a total

wreck,—another bit of ill-luck for this poverty-stricken land. Her

captain was the steadiest and most experienced man in the group, so it is

a good proof of what dangerous navigation this is.

Here Mr Gordon found an empty house, save for the presence of Mr and Mrs

Abbey, the excellent major-domo and his admirable wife, who have nursed

him with tenderest devotion, and are now rewarded by seeing him steadily

amending. But for some days he was so very ill that an express was sent

to Suva, in Viti Levu, to summon the Governor, who, with Captain Knollys

and Baron von Hügel, had gone there, on their way back, to see Lady

Gordon and her children, who are staying there for change of air.

Just at this moment, I, knowing nothing of all this, returned

unexpectedly from a three weeks’ cruise round Vanua Levu with my friends

the Langhams, with whom I have now travelled for thirteen weeks in

districts which otherwise would have been to me wholly inaccessible. But

I have not time now to tell you anything about our cruise, so you must

be content with this letter for the present. I forgot to tell you that

we have a new inmate in the house—a remarkably nice young cannibal. His

father is one of the worst cannibal chiefs captured by Captain Knollys,

to whom both father and son have quite a romantic attachment!

_Note._—On the 28th October 1876 the Governor issued a proclamation of

free pardon to all the mountain-tribes who had fought against Government,

granting free permission to all who had been carried as prisoners to

other districts, and to those who might still be concealed in the bush

or in caves, to return to their own districts, and rebuild their towns

and cultivate their lands, only stipulating that the fortified places

must not be reoccupied, but that sites should be selected more suitable

to the peaceful inhabitants of a quiet land. Even at the date of this

proclamation, he found that the disturbed districts were assuming an

aspect of security and civilisation hitherto undreamt of. New towns were

rapidly springing up by the rivers and in the plains, and cultivation

was carried on in perfect security, in places which hitherto could not

be worked at all, or only by armed men. Formerly constant distrust

reigned between the different tribes—especially between the Christians

and heathens; and not without good cause, as four hundred inhabitants

of one Christian town had been treacherously clubbed by their heathen

neighbours, having been induced by false pretences to leave their town.

Now the wild tribes had all adopted the kilt of native cloth, and cut

their hair to a reasonable length—sure proofs of general respectability.

They had also welcomed the native Christian teachers, who had come to

live in almost every village.

A year later—October 1877—Sir Arthur Gordon revisited these districts. He

found satisfactory progress everywhere—the people devoting their energies

to agriculture instead of war—all, nominally at least, Christians; good

new villages; good riding-paths (one forty miles in length from the coast

to the permanent headquarters of native police at Fort Carnarvon); and

these, though of purely native construction, were led by easy gradients

along the hillsides, instead of following the steepest ridges, according

to Fijian custom. Everywhere peace, order, and plenty prevailed. He

was especially pleased to find one of the _tevoro_ chiefs, whom he

had pardoned when under sentence of death (causing him to place his

hands in his and swear fealty), now a useful and zealous officer of

the Government. At Fort Carnarvon, about a thousand representatives of

the wild tribes assembled to meet him and hear his words; and several

hundred school-children, from the neighbouring villages, gathered

together for one of their picturesque school-examinations. A large

proportion of the children could read and write well—a most satisfactory

result of one year’s tuition. According to invariable custom, the

school-examination was enlivened by many of the wild, but often graceful

and poetic, _mékés_—_i.e._, descriptive songs and dances. After several

spear-dances, and one descriptive of a cow protecting her calf, and

another of a hawk fluttering, came one which Sir Arthur thus describes in

his private journal:—

“Nasaucoko fan _méké_. Nai kalukalu, the Stars. This was a very curious

_méké_. Two circular enclosures of bamboo, about five feet high, were

erected, within which two parties of dancers began to whirl round, waving

white _masi_ fans over their heads. Gradually, one by one, they came out

of the door of their enclosure opposite each other. This was the rising

of the stars. They met, danced the usual sort of dance, and, at one part

of it, threw away their fans. This was to represent the shooting-stars.”

On the following day he writes—

“_Thursday._—To-day Buli Nadrau and all his people came to do their

homage. Very pretty they looked, coming over the hill in an interminable

line. The old gentleman was tremendously weighted in his state-robes,

which were only put on him by his attendants a few yards before he

reached me, and were, after he had passed me, at once taken off again,

and presented. _Six hundred feet_ and more of black (or rather grey)

_masi_ were heaped on him, and that not in the shape of an enormous

train, like Tui Cakau’s, but all draped and festooned over his person and

head.

“_Friday._—Walked over to Korolevu, where I was received in a fashion

which I have never seen elsewhere. The people were arranged in rows

on each side of the _rara_. As I came into it, all the folks inclined

their heads to the left shoulder, and, as I passed them, sank down

into a slanting position to the left, like a row of nine-pins.... Most

picturesque was the offering to me of the _magiti_ (feast), by moonlight,

as I sat on the marble steps of the old _buré_ (devil temple), destroyed

long ago. Most striking too was the scene in the village afterwards,—each

household grouped in front of its own door, and later the sound of

prayers from the various houses. Every one of the people here was, last

year, a prisoner. Later I strolled up and down by myself alone, but in

perfect security.... From one house I heard the voices of a number of

women repeating the Lord’s Prayer. What a change from last year, when

there was nothing here but heaps of ashes!”

At home in Fiji · 第 20 / 28 章