A PLEA FOR TANNA.
EVERYTHING having been at length arranged for in the Colonies, in
connection with the Mission and _Dayspring_, as far as could possibly
be,--and I having been adopted by the Victorian Assembly of 1866, as the
first Missionary from the Presbyterian Church of Australia to the New
Hebrides,--we sailed for the Islands on the 8th August of that year.
Besides my wife and child, the following accompanied us to the field:
Revs. Copeland, Cosh, and M'Nair, along with their respective wives. On
20th August we reached Aneityum; and, having landed some of our friends,
we sailed Northwards, as far as Efate, to let the new Missionaries see
all the Islands open for occupation, and to bring all our Missionaries
back to the annual meeting, where the permanent settlements would be
finally agreed upon.
While staying at Aneityum, I learned with as deep emotion as man ever
felt for man, that noble old Abraham, the sharer of my Tannese trials,
had during the interval peacefully fallen asleep in Jesus. He left for
me his silver watch--one which I had myself sent to the dear soul from
Sydney, and which he greatly prized. In his dying hour he said, "Give it
to Missi, my own Missi Paton; and tell him that I go to Jesus, where
Time is dead."
I learned also, and truly human-hearted readers will need no apology for
introducing this news in so grave a story--that my faithful dog
_Clutha_, entrusted to the care of a kindly Native to be kept for my
return, had, despite all coaxing, grown weary of heart amongst all these
dark faces, and fallen asleep too, truly not unworthy of a grateful
tear!
At our annual Synod, after much prayerful deliberation and the careful
weighing of every vital circumstance, I was constrained by the united
voice of my brethren not to return to Tanna, but to settle on the
adjoining island of Aniwa (=A-neé-wa). It was even hoped that thereby
Tanna might eventually be the more surely reached and evangelized.
By the new Missionaries all the other old Stations were reoccupied and
some fresh Islands were entered upon in the name of Jesus. As we moved
about with our _Dayspring_, and planted the Missionaries here and there,
nothing could repress the wonder of Natives.
"How is this?" they cried. "We slew or drove them all away! We plundered
their houses and robbed them. Had we been so treated, nothing would have
made us return. But they come back with a beautiful new ship, and with
more and more Missionaries. And is it to trade and to get money, like
the other white men? No! no! But to tell us of their Jehovah God and of
His Son Jesus. If their God makes them do all that, we may well worship
Him too."
In this way, island after island was opened up to receive the
Missionary, and their Chiefs bound themselves to protect and cherish
him, before they knew anything whatever of the Gospel, beyond what they
saw in the disposition and character of its Preachers or heard rumored
regarding its fruits on other Islands. Imagine _Cannibals_ found thus
prepared to welcome the Missionary, and to make not only his property
but his life comparatively safe. The Isles "wait" for Christ.
On our way to Aniwa, the _Dayspring_ had to call at Tanna. By stress of
weather we lay several days in Port Resolution. And there many memories
were again revived--wounds that after five-and-twenty years, when I now
write, still bleed afresh! Nowar, the old Chief, unstable but friendly,
was determined to keep us there by force or by fraud. The Captain told
him that the council of the Missionaries had forbidden him to land our
boxes at Tanna.
"Don't land them," said the wily Chief, "just throw them over; my men
and I will catch everything before it reaches the water, and carry them
all safely ashore!"
The Captain said he durst not. "Then," persisted Nowar, "just point them
out to us; you will have no further trouble; we will manage everything
for Missi."
They were in distress when he refused; and poor old Nowar tried another
tack. Suspecting that my clear wife was afraid of them, he got us on
shore to see his extensive plantations. Turning eagerly to her, he said,
leaving me to interpret, "Plenty of food! While I have a yam or a
banana, you shall not want."
She answered, "I fear not any lack of food."
Pointing to his warriors, he cried, "We are many! We are strong! We can
always protect you."
"I am not afraid," she calmly replied.
He then led us to that chestnut tree, in the branches of which I had sat
during a lonely and memorable night, when all hope had perished of any
earthly deliverance, and said to her with a manifest touch of genuine
emotion, "The God who protected Missi there will always protect you."
She told him that she had no fear of that kind, but explained to him
that we must for the present go to Aniwa, but would return to Tanna, if
the Lord opened up our way. Nowar, Arkurat, and the rest, seemed to be
genuinely grieved, and it touched my soul to the quick.
A beautiful incident was the outcome, as we learned only in long after
years. There was at that time an Aniwan Chief on Tanna, visiting
friends. He was one of their great Sacred Men. He and his people had
been promised a passage home in the _Dayspring_, with their canoes in
tow. When old Nowar saw that he could not keep us with himself, he went
to this Aniwan Chief, and took the white shells, the insignia of
Chieftainship, from his own arm, and bound them on the Sacred Man,
saying, "By these you promise to protect my Missi and his wife and child
on Aniwa. Let no evil befall them; or, by this pledge, I and my people
will revenge it."
In a future crisis, this probably saved our lives, as shall be
afterwards related. After all, a bit of the Christ-Spirit had found its
way into that old cannibal's soul! And the same Christ-Spirit in me
yearned more strongly still, and made it a positive pain to pass on to
another Island, and leave him in that dim-groping twilight of the soul.