NANKAURI
The Harbour Shores--A Village--_Kanaia_--Canoe--Feeding the
Animals--Collecting-ground--Mangrove Creeks--Preparations for
a Festival--Burial Customs--Malacca Village--Houses--Visit
Tanamara--Furniture--Talismans and "Scare-devils"--Beliefs--
Festivities--A Dance--An Educated Native--Tanamara and his
Relations--Cigarettes--Refreshments--The Collections--Geology--
Flora--Population--Piracy.
On the morning of the 5th we weighed anchor, and proceeded to Nankauri
harbour. The entrance is about a quarter of a mile wide, and its
northern coast, once the site of the Government settlement, is the only
open grassy portion of the harbour shores. Just within the point stands
the flag-staff, and above it, on the crest of a low hill, a little
graveyard lies within the shade of casuarinas. A long jetty of coral
blocks runs out from the shore, and near by is the house of the agent.
Opposite, on either side of Mayo Point, are the villages of Malacca and
Inuanga, and behind them the forest-clad slopes stretch to grassy
uplands.
We sailed into Spiteful Bay, which lies just behind the southern point
of the harbour entrance, and anchored in 12 fathoms, mud and sand, close
to a little village of a dozen houses standing above the beach.[38] In
front of these and planted in shallow water, rose a number of tall
poles, each made of several spars bound end to end with rattan, and
ornamented at intervals with bunches of palm leaves. These the natives
call _kanaia_: they have, we were told repeatedly, no superstitious
significance; one is put up for each inhabited house in the village, and
renewed periodically.[39]
Landing at the village (_matai_) is easy, for below the water-level the
sandy shore slopes downwards at an angle of 45 deg., a condition made
possible by the tranquility of the harbour water. The houses, (_n'gi_)
are less solidly built than those of Kar Nicobar, possess a small
side-wall about 4 feet high, of boards, and a pointed finial crowning
the conical roof; but do not have the protective discs on the supports:
the door, too, and a number of small windows open in the sides, and the
latter are all supplied with shutters that swing freely on a wooden
hinge.
A new and very large canoe was lying on the beach, the dug-out portion,
without additions, measuring 42 feet long by 3 feet wide and 3 feet
deep. The hull was charred, and decorated by grooved bands running at
short intervals from gunwale to gunwale round the outside. Canoes are
fitted, according to size, with from one to four short bamboo masts,
each supported by four wide-spreading stays of rattan, and on these are
hoisted lateen sails with a short tack of about 12 inches, made of
cotton or pandanus leaves. The masts are never stepped on the floor of
the canoe, but always on one of the crossbars or thwarts.
The people about the village were feeding their dogs and pigs with a
kind of gruel in wooden troughs, and as the animals were judged to have
enough, each was smacked on the head and sent off; no greediness nor
crowding was allowed, and the pigs were far better behaved than the
generality of their species.
We found the jungle near the houses quite impracticable, both from its
tangled nature and the steepness of the ground it covered. A walk along
the shore produced only a whimbrel (_Numenius phoeopus_), which,
although not bad for the pot, is too wide-spread a species to be of much
value ornithologically.
Experiences next day on the opposite side of the bay were little more
encouraging. Scrambling up a steep hill, we found a small stretch of
flat land on the top, where ran one or two faint paths, along which the
traps were placed. Birds were very scarce, and as it began to rain, we
returned to the dinghy, and rowed round the bay, looking for
kingfishers. The boat was paddled up all the creeks in the thick belt of
mangroves that fringe the shores, but there was no sign of the bird we
were after--the large stork-billed _Pelargopsis_--and we had to be
content with whimbrels. The creeks, which in many cases are only just
broad enough to row in, often wind for long distances among the
mangroves, and on a dull day are depressing places, with but little life
in them. In the bay itself we saw many beautiful branching corals of
kinds far too delicate to grow in the more disturbed water of the sea;
much of the growth which spreads all over the bottom was, however,
killed by the mud and fresh water that comes down through the mangroves.
Our arrival in the harbour was coincident with the beginning of a feast,
which was to continue for a week or so. Two new canoes, decked with most
gorgeous banners, flags, and streamers flying from small poles,[40] were
launched on the first day, and, to an accompaniment of singing, rowed
across to the northern shore to obtain young coconuts for the coming
festivity. These joyous occasions the natives call, in imitation of our
English custom, "making Christmas"; and over the door of those houses
where the gatherings are held they fasten a number of branches.[41] We
entered one of the houses thus decorated. Outside were large heaps of
green coconuts, and inside other refreshment in the shape of several big
jars of toddy; the interior was prepared for dancing. Immense quantities
of cotton print, of every pattern and colour imaginable, were hung from
rattans crossing the upper portion of the roof to within about 7 feet
from the floor; the upper part was a nearly solid mass of cotton. On a
framework in the centre of the floor, covered with alternate strips of
red and white cotton, so that it seemed to be made of barbers' poles,
were suspended a large number of spoons, forks, and soup-ladles.
Everything else in the house was pushed back against the walls in order
that the floor might be clear, and as the place was rather dark, it was
illuminated by a lamp made from half a coconut-shell, containing melted
pigs' fat and a strip of rag. The spoons and forks, in which the natives
invest nearly all they obtain by the sale of their coconuts, are
purchased from the Burmese and Indian traders. For soup-ladles they give
20 rupees; table-spoons 10 rupees, and smaller sizes 5 rupees. They are
of electro-plate and German metal, but the people apparently think them
silver, and did not seem to believe us when we told them otherwise, so
we did not press the point. Considering the large number they possess,
the knowledge might be painful, and since they are destroyed at the
owner's death, it perhaps does not matter much. "It's an ill wind that
blows nobody good," and the traders ought to do very well at such
prices.
The large public dances of the northern island are not held here, but
two or three private houses are prepared for the occasion as above
described.
The people of these islands employ in everyday life far more clothing
than the Kar Nicobarese, and a great proportion of them wear some other
garment--trousers or jacket--in addition to their national apparel.
Formerly, they wore the white palm-leaf head-dress, but it was given up
when imported garments became common.
A custom of partially exhuming the bodies of the dead exists here, and
whenever celebrated is the occasion of a special feast (_Koruak_). In
the Northern Islands the entire remains are disinterred, carefully
cleaned, wrapped up once more, and reburied; here, the skull and jawbone
only are retained.
The local population greatly deprecates the method of their northern
countrymen.
It would appear, by the way, that the present custom is no degradation
of the past, for more than a century ago the head only was disinterred
and cleansed.
"On the anniversary of the festival--if it can be so called--their
houses are decorated with garlands of flowers, fruit, and branches
of trees. The people of each village assemble, dressed in their
best attire, at the principal house in the place, where they spend
the day in a convivial manner. The men sitting apart from the
women, smoke tobacco and intoxicate themselves, while the latter
are nursing the children, and employed in preparation for the
mournful business of the night. At a certain hour of the afternoon,
announced by striking the _goung_ (an instrument of brass somewhat
like the _gurry_ of Bengal--it sounds more hollow), the women set
up the most dismal howls and lamentations, which they continue
without intermission till about sunset, when the whole party gets
up and walks in procession to the burying-ground. Arrived at the
place, they form a circle round one of the graves, when a stake,
planted exactly over the head of a corpse, is pulled up. The woman
who is nearest of kin to the deceased steps out from the crowd,
digs up the skull and draws it up in her hands. (The office is
always performed by the women, whichever sex the skull belongs to.
A man in a fantastic garb officiates as priest.) At sight of the
bones her strength seems to fail her; she shrieks, she sobs, and
tears of anguish abundantly fall on the mouldering object of her
pious care. She cleans it from the earth, scrapes off the festering
flesh, and laves it plentifully with the milk of fresh coconuts,
supplied by the bystanders; after which, she rubs it over with an
infusion of saffron, and wraps it carefully up in a piece of new
cloth. It is then deposited in the earth, and covered up; the stake
is replanted, and hung with the various trappings and implements
belonging to the deceased. They proceed then to the other graves;
and the whole night is spent in repetitions of these dismal and
disgustful rites.
"On the morning following, the ceremony is concluded by an offering
of many fat swine, when the sacrifice made to the dead affords an
ample feast to the living: they besmear themselves with the blood
of the slaughtered hogs; and some, more voracious than others, eat
the flesh raw."[42]
A few hundred yards from the houses in the bay, and on the seaward side
of the same point, is situated the larger village where the headman
resides; the path connecting the two crosses the site of one of the old
Moravian mission establishments, where the brick foundations of some of
the buildings once standing there may yet be seen.[43]
This larger village[44] contains fifteen to twenty houses closely packed
together, and fronted by a tall row of _kanaia_ standing in the water.
Bamboo posts, too, split at the upper end and spread out fanwise, are
planted at intervals along the beach; they are put up yearly by every
man in the village, to keep fever and devils (_iwi_) away; and several
grotesque figures of crocodiles (_yeo_), placed in little shelters,
raised on poles, prevent their living counterparts from attacking the
villagers when they enter the water.
The houses are of two kinds, round and rectangular; the latter are used
as kitchens and storerooms, but there is a fireplace in the others,
where much of the cooking is done. The conical roofs are made of attaps
of nipah palm, neatly fastened to a framework of thick rattan by
lashings of cane, the sides and floor are generally of roughly-hewn
boards; inside, about 3 feet from the wall, a circle of posts helps to
support the roof, which, in some cases, is entirely lined with
horizontal laths of wood. The apex is crowned outside by a high, carved
finial. Access is obtained by means of a notched pole, and to permit the
entrance of domestic animals, a tree trunk, split and hollowed out to
form a trough, slopes gently up from the ground to door or window.
Beneath the houses are platforms on which the natives keep their store
of pandanus and coconuts, their spare pots and baskets, and peculiar
bundles of wood. This latter is neatly cut into billets about 1 foot
long, and packed into circular bundles, 2 or 3 feet in diameter, by
means of a tight lashing of cane.[45]
One afternoon we paid a visit to Tanamara. He and his wife have no
children, but have adopted a little girl from Chaura, whose parents are
dead. This custom of adoption is, he says, not at all uncommon.
Tanamara's father and mother live with him; the former, "England" by
name, is an old, white-headed man, who is nearly eighty; he professes to
know nothing about the piratical atrocities which formerly occurred in
this group of islands, although many of them happened at a period
sufficiently late in his life for him to have fully comprehended such
events.
The interior and contents of the house were very similar to what we had
already seen in Trinkat. Opposite the door stood the fireplace--a bed of
clay on the floor--above which was a mantle-shelf or rack, where are
kept pots, baskets, trays, etc. A grated floor formed a small chamber
immediately under the roof, where baskets and odds-and-ends are stowed
away. Several boxes, packed with the family possessions of cotton and
spoons, stood against the walls, on which hung various charms--small
figures (_kareau_), carved scrolls, tassels of palm leaf, and pigs'
skulls--all for scaring away devils. Hanging in the centre was a grass
string, with a few small coconuts attached: these are for the purpose of
feeding the house, and are periodically renewed: the object so nourished
does not seem possessed of much acumen, however, for small green nuts,
which have been blown down or have fallen from disease, seem quite good
enough to sustain it. The house also contained some almost life-sized
human figures (_odiau_), carved from wood, painted and clothed. These
were not at all badly shaped, and show an appreciation of anatomical
detail unusual among uncivilised people. The shape of the Nicobarese
head, and the peculiar angle at which the teeth are set, were well
noticed: the swelling muscles, the toes and fingers, even the sharpness
of the shin-bone in front of the leg, and the form of the knee-cap, were
faithfully copied. They were all supplied with a piece of rancid pork
hung from the neck or placed in the mouth.[46]
Several pictures (_henta_) drawn on slabs of wood were placed against
the walls. These originate from an attack of fever. They are drawn by
the village artist by order of the doctor (_menluana_), who tells him
what he should make. The latter is paid in kind for his work. Of
frequent occurrence are pigs, crocodiles and coconut trees, whilst
almost always there appears a scene of men seated at a table and
drinking rum from large glasses. If the patient make a good recovery,
the picture is kept as a potent charm, since it has been successful in
scaring away the spirits of illness; otherwise, it is thrown away. A
bird (_kalang_)[47] commonly made during fever will also produce
recovery.
We could not persuade the people to part with any of these, neither
would they sell one of the large figures. Tanamara has a life-sized
statue, painted black, with a white face, and although he was offered in
exchange a dress-suit and a white sun-helmet, which he much coveted, he
would not part with his double: its price was far above rupees. I was,
however, permitted to photograph both pictures and figure; although,
while the latter was being moved from the house to the beach, he was in
an agony of apprehension, for he believes that if any accident should
happen to it, illness on his part would follow, while, had we broken it
or taken it away, he himself would certainly die. The object of these
figures is to keep devils from working harm to their owners. Some people
have none, while others sometimes possess two or more.
"_February 7._--The people are far too occupied with their feasting to
take much notice of our presence: on shore I found them so busy and
excited that the photographs I had hoped for could not be obtained.
Every day four large canoes go across to the other side of the harbour
for coconuts, of which very few grow about the village: all the vessels
are gaily decorated, and the paddlers are in holiday attire--collars of
split banana leaf (_f[=u]m_), beads, new cottons, and red paint on their
noses.
"Tanamara came on board to tell us that the dance, at which by
arrangement we are to be spectators, will be ready to-morrow morning;
but that, to give a proper dance, the performers require to be jolly,
and to be jolly needs a bottle of rum, which under the circumstances it
was our duty to supply. He only stopped to beg for a glass of spirits,
and then returned to the amusements on shore. Laughter, cheers, and
singing have been going on in the village all the evening."
"_February 8._--About nine o'clock this morning, taking with us a supply
of liquid--half water, half rum--we landed at the village, and were
received with a cordiality which doubtless owed its warmth partly to the
presence of the bottles. In the banqueting-house we found dancing still
in progress, that, judging from the noise made, had lasted throughout
the night. All the cottons had been taken down, but the stand of spoons
still remained in the centre of the floor. Every one still on his legs
was very hilarious; we were shown large jars which last evening were
full of toddy. Lying about the sides of the floor people were sleeping,
some from sheer weariness, some from intoxication. All were gaily
dressed; bright cottons hung from the shoulders like a cloak, round the
neck were strings of beads and collars of frilled banana-leaf, now
faded; many wore ear-stretchers of red and white cotton made into
rosettes, and the men were crowned with chaplets of twisted print: we
saw several handsome belts, made of silver wire and rupees (almost the
only use to which money is put), and some wore armlets of silver not
unlike those brass-wire ornaments affected by Dyak women.
"In dancing, the people--men, women, and children--form a circle, or
portion of a circle, round the spoons, and, with arms intertwined and
hands on each others' shoulders, move slowly towards the right, with
measured step, to the accompaniment of general chanting--to me it
sounded like 'ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah,' _ad infinitum_, only varied
in tone and rhythm.[48] The regularity of the movement is broken at
intervals by a step or two in the opposite direction, or a pause with a
pirouette on one leg, and now and then a heavy stamp on the floor. One
old woman, who danced most perseveringly, was so intoxicated, that,
whenever her neighbours took away the support of their arms, she fell
over, and was too helpless to rise unaided.
"Seated on boxes we watched the performance, and the doctor, presiding
over the rum bottles, repeatedly filled a small glass, from which each
imbibed, turn and turn about. At our feet squatted a number of
half-drunken people, gabbling away in a mixture of Nicobarese, Malay,
and English; not all so stupid, however, that some could not detect the
water in the tipple.
"Tanamara, who was fairly clear-headed at first, received the finishing
touch from the rum, and before we left embraced Abbott with fervent
gratitude: 'You good man, I love you; you make us all nice and drunk.
Oh, I feel so nice!'
"The dancing was very monotonous, and before long we were glad to get
out to the open air: the hut was ventilated by a small doorway only, and
the vitiated atmosphere in which people had been moving for the last
twelve hours was by no means pleasant. Children and boys were present,
but no young women; in fact, at all times we only caught sight of the
latter as they bolted into the houses on our approach, and none were
forthcoming for the camera."
"_February 9._--Everything is quiet on shore to-day after the
dissipation which left off yesterday. Tanamara came on board with a
headache; he was sure it could be cured with rum, but got a heavy dose
of Eno instead. We gave him a few ducks he was very anxious to possess.
It is to be hoped there is a drake among them--a point that was somewhat
doubtful--for then we shall have benefited the community to the extent
at least of introducing a new domestic animal to the islands."
"_February 10._--Gave Tanamara a watch this afternoon, to spur him to
further efforts in collecting curiosities. His wife, whom he calls 'my
Mary,'[49] desires to visit the schooner this evening; but although she
is uninvited, and comes by her own wish, she has bargained for two
fathoms of red cotton in payment for the honour done us.
"We met a man on shore who was for a time at the school formerly kept
for natives at Port Blair. He lays claim to the name of William Brown,
and speaks English very well; his education otherwise has resulted in
giving him a contempt for the native superstitions, of which he speaks
with sneers, and meanwhile has replaced them by no other tenets. The
train of events that brings such a condition of things about seems
somewhat injudicious. A knowledge--a small knowledge--of the 'three R's'
is of very little use to a native who has sooner or later to return to
his national mode of existence. His experience may unsettle him, and is
no suitable training for his future life, while it must leave him at a
disadvantage among his countrymen, who have been bred to the conditions
under which their existence will be passed."
"_February 11._--Tanamara came on board last evening with his
brother-in-law (Hamol) and nephew (Terrok). He was half-drunk with
toddy, and brought--it was quite a family party--his wife (Helpak) and
mother (Mert). A canoe-load of dishes, spears, and charms, which
accompanied them, we purchased with old clothes, wire, and rice. The
headman is as great a beggar as the others, perhaps more so, by virtue
of his position and his English. Our conversation was continually
interrupted by demands for one thing or another as he remembered them:
things for his father, mother, wife, each request insinuatingly prefaced
by the words 'my friend.' 'My friend, you give me--; My friend, I
want--.' But for this fault, he is a fairly favourable specimen of a
Nicobarese, and is certainly more intelligent than the rank and file;
but, like many that we met, he is somewhat spoilt by contact with more
civilised conditions.
"We had on board a quantity of American cigarettes, packed in cardboard
boxes, each containing a dozen, and a coloured picture of a young woman
in an evening gown! These packets were very useful as small presents, or
as an answer to a request for a smoke. 'Oh, my dear!' exclaimed
Tanamara, as he lovingly gazed at the picture from his packet. But he
soon became dissatisfied, for she was a blonde and he likes brunettes,
while what he was most anxious to obtain was the portrait of a Malay
woman.
"Our small supply of spirits coming to an end, Abbott manufactured a
new kind of cocktail from the medical stores--tincture of cardamoms,
essence of ginger, sugar, and water, with a few spoonsful of rum to give
the mixture a bouquet. This fiery liquid was received with some
suspicion at first; but when I told them it was the favourite tipple of
the C.C. at Port Blair (may I be forgiven), Tanamara and his brother--it
was too stiff for the others--drank it down, although the tears stood in
their eyes."
Of the fauna, we obtained from day to day little of interest: the jungle
was without paths, and too thick even to see much in. No rats were
trapped, but one specimen was brought us in a bottle by a native, and
this has proved to be _Mus alexandrinus_, totally unrecorded until now
from the Andamans or Nicobars. Pigeons were common, but megapodes
scarce, and the only one obtained was caught in a trap. The vicinity of
the harbour, though a somewhat unproductive hunting-ground for the
ornithologist, for those interested in the natives, is, like Kar
Nicobar, a most satisfactory locality.
Nankauri is a heart-shaped island, with an area of 19 square miles, and
a maximum height of 534 feet. The bed rock consists of serpentinous
magnesian, which is exposed in places. It is covered by a plastic white
or yellowish clay and clay marl, with intervening beds of quartz
sandstone, formed, like the clay, by the disintegration of the plutonic
rock. The clay beds are similar to those which cover most of the
northern islands, and contain silica, alumina, magnesia, and iron, but
usually no lime, except in the form of gypsum, found in crevices.
Portions of the clay cliffs exposed to the sun are covered with a fine
efflorescence of sulphate of magnesia (Epsom salts). Professor Ehrenberg
found in 1850, on examining specimens sent him by Dr Rink (_Galathea_
Expedition), that this formation is a polycistina clay similar to that
of Barbadoes.
About one-third of the island is covered with grass: a belt of forest
runs all round the coast, but in the interior is restricted to the
valleys and more sheltered slopes. The most useful species are:
_Garcinias_, _Calophyllums_, _Myristica irya_, which yields good
timber; _Sterculia campanulata_ and _Terminalia procera_, which grow to
immense sizes. The Nicobar and many other palms occur in numbers, and a
wild species of cinnamon is common, as also is _Amomum fenzlii_, the
leaves of which are used for cigarette wrappings, and the fruit much
eaten by the natives.
But little fruit is grown about the villages: limes, guavas, and
soursops are commonest. In the way of supplies, coconuts, pigs, and a
few fowls might be obtained from the natives, and beef by shooting the
wild cattle. Water in the harbour is very bad, and scarce.[50]
By a comparison of the census returns (1886 and 1901), the population
would seem to have been stationary for many years: it now consists of
224 individuals.
The central group of islands was once notorious for the frequent
disasters occurring to vessels calling there. It was for long thought
that the numerous total losses that occurred in the Bengal Sea were due
to storms and cyclones; but at length the discovery was made, that, from
the beginning of the century until the British occupation, the vicinity
of Nankauri Harbour was the _habitat_ of a band of pirates, who cut off
and murdered the crews of many vessels calling to trade and supply
themselves with water or provisions. The headquarters of the band appear
to have been in Expedition Harbour, and from there, whenever a vessel
anchored at the islands, they sallied out, and either getting on board
under the guise of peaceful natives, took the crews by surprise with a
sudden attack, or else cut up landing-parties, and then captured the
weakened vessel.
In this way, always by treachery and never in open warfare, they
succeeded in capturing ship after ship.
There is some ground for belief that, for a time, the piratical
goings-on were carried out under the leadership of an Englishman named
William Worthington. The dates given in the various accounts of him are
contradictory; but it appears that, about 1808, Worthington deserted at
Nankauri from the frigate _Bucephalus_, and that for some years
subsequently the pirates were directed by a man who gave that name as
his.
In 1814, the _Ceres_ was boarded by an Englishman, who stated that he
had been left behind by a man-of-war. After inspecting the vessel, he
left, and next day, as the anchor was being hove up, he arrived at the
head of about thirty canoes, and made a futile attack on the ship.
A short time after, the brig _Hope_ was cut off. An Englishman, who had
previously stated he was Worthington, deserter from the _Bucephalus_,
murdered the captain and mate, and the natives despatched the crew, with
the exception of two or three, who escaped in a boat and in some way
arrived at Rangoon.
At length Worthington was either expelled from the harbour, or left with
some home-going Bompokans; but be that as it may, a man of that name
lived for some years on Teressa and Bompoka, where several captains met
with, or received letters from, him. Their opinions of his character
differed. He was last seen in December 1820, when he reported that a
ship from Bengal had been cut off and massacred at Nankauri, with
several others previously, by natives led by Kafirs. He stated that
after he deserted at Nankauri, he was unable to leave until he had paid
a ransom to the natives. His death took place the same year, and the
natives with whom he lived afterwards gave him the best of characters:
that "John," as they called him, had long dwelt quietly and amicably
amongst them. His seems to have thus been a case of "devil turned monk,"
and his career amongst the natives akin to the records of the
better-known "beach-combers" of the early days in the Pacific.[51]
In a paper contributed to the _Journal of the Indian Archipelago_, 1847,
the missionary, Chopard, says that silver had a peculiar attraction for
the natives, and was the chief article which induced them to butcher, by
treachery always, crews of vessels calling at the harbour. He knew a
Kamortan, thirty-five years of age, who recollected eight vessels which
had been cut off there in that manner.
In 1833, a Cholia vessel was cut off in the false harbour of Nankauri
(Expedition Harbour) and everyone murdered. In 1844, Captain Ignatius
Ventura, from Moulmein, commanding the _Mary_, anchored on the north
side of Teressa at two o'clock, and an hour later he and his crew were
murdered. In the same year, Captain Law met the same fate on Kamorta. In
1845, a vessel, having taken in part of her cargo at Kachal, sailed to
the false harbour at Nankauri to complete, and all hands were
murdered.[52]
"While I was at Kar Nicobar," Captain Gardner writes in 1857,[53] "two
vessels were cut off at Nankauri, the crews massacred, and the ships
plundered and scuttled." In 1840, the _Pilot_, South Sea whaler, was cut
off there, and the captain, mates, and twenty-five men murdered; the
third mate, surgeon, and seven men escaped to sea in a boat.[54] In
1844, the cutter _Emilia_ visited Nankauri, and her captain was murdered
within an hour of landing, but the boat escaped.
Piracy in the Nicobars came to an end with the occupation of Nankauri
Harbour by the Indian Government in 1869; but two years previous to that
it had been necessary to send there a British punitive expedition, on
account of the atrocities committed by the natives. A notification of
the event was made by Captain N. B. Bedingfield, who commanded the
expedition, in the first of the Port Registers entrusted to the Nankauri
natives.
"TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN.
"Whereas the natives of these islands have been guilty of several
acts of piracy; the crews of no less than four vessels have been
massacred; a white woman and two children have been kept prisoners
for about two years and a half, and after being most cruelly
treated, the poor woman, used for the very vilest purposes, was,
with her children, first poisoned and afterwards knocked on the
head: Her Majesty's ships _Wasp_ and _Satellite_ were sent to
endeavour to liberate any captives that might still remain on the
Islands, and to punish the natives for their crimes.
"Several towns implicated have been burnt, all the war canoes
destroyed, and other punishments inflicted ..." etc., etc.
Nor was this the only case of the kind, for although most of the vessels
disposed of were native, the total included not a few European. There is
another instance on record, in which a European woman was taken ashore
and so brutally abused by the band of pirates that she died next day.
It is believed that the origination of these practices cannot be traced
to the natives, but is due to the settlement of a body of Malays, who
attracted a number of the inhabitants to themselves, and then formed a
gang to plunder all vessels calling at the harbour, consequent upon a
successful massacre of the crew.