rashly permitted Agnes and Kate to cook for me this week at their own
request. They made a tremendous fuss about it, but the rice came to
table uncooked, and in such a small quantity that my breakfast was
spoilt and the coffee was anything but good. However they did their best
and I dare say to-morrow they will do all right. They were both
wonderfully good, and not only washed up for me but gave my premises a
good sweep as well. Poor Agnes, she is hideously lame, but she pretends
to the liveliness of a kitten. The fence around the school is rather
high and I watched her endeavours to get over with her lameness and her
petticoats. She managed better than I expected, but I stood by in
readiness to lend her a helping hand in case she fell. She comes back
fully impressed with a sense of her importance and dignity after so
many years absence, and her friends made a great deal of her. To-day she
is off with the other women on some excursion or other, and is fully
convinced that she is as active as any of them. Before long no doubt she
will fancy herself useful and engaging enough to be the life partner of
Tilegi, and to be the faithful companion of his joys and sorrows. She is
an intelligent girl, and her long training at Norfolk Island ought to
make her useful here. She is perfectly charmed with her home, and she
sees very plainly the beneficial results produced by Christianity. When
she left, she herself was among the few baptized, now she comes back to
the bosom of a Christian community with a good church and school, daily
Morning and Evening Prayers, and perfect harmony and good will among all
men. She will miss little at home now of what she has grown accustomed
to at Norfolk Island, and it must be a pleasant realization to her. The
girls, too, with whom she will have daily association are all
Christians, and she will be spared the shock and repulsion of heathen
women’s talk and actions. Her father has died in the interval, a truly
godly man in his life, and a believer at the time of his death.
There is no face I miss here more than that of James, a true and
faithful friend to me, and I firmly believe, too, of our Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ. Arthur tells me his death was perfectly peaceful
and happy, and he desired at the last to depart and be with Christ which
was far better. His two children followed him, and the three lie side by
side in the quiet and rest of the grave. A reputed mother, but one who
is really an aunt, Amina, takes charge of Agnes until Tilegi or some one
else claims her as a bride, for in spite of her deformity I suppose she
will not eschew marriage herself, or be allowed to remain in single
blessedness by her friends, for here young ladies are not over
plentiful, and to judge by the appearance of some already married there
is no accounting for taste among the men of the place. Elizabeth, the
wife of James, has found solace in another partner, but she spoke of her
former husband with a due amount of grief and tears, and said to me,
pointing in the direction of his grave, “He lies asleep over there.”
Yet there are here those who are ‘widows indeed,’ and good old Dorcas is
one such. This old lady well deserves her name, for she is full of alms
deeds, and kindness to all, and I firmly believe is a true follower of
Jesus Christ. She lives alone with a little grandchild in her own hut
and trains up dutifully the child in the way she should go. Very seldom
is old Dorcas away from her seat in church, and she exercises a benign
and gentle influence over her own sex in the village. Anna, another good
old widow, has died in my absence, and the loss of such is much felt.
Among the younger women there is a perfect colony of children, and this
is most thankworthy as being a proof that infanticide has been quite
stamped out, and formerly it seemed to be a sort of religious duty here.
Children were looked upon as being uncanny as well as a nuisance, and if
the mother did not kill her offspring herself, she found plenty of
aiders and abettors in the old midwives who attended her. The father
seemed utterly impotent to prevent the evil. Now the fathers have turned
head nurses and are abundantly proud of their children.
This morning after Prayers and school I walked down to the river side at
Rarava, whither almost the entire population had preceded me, and where
I lit upon a busy scene. It was a most resplendent day, but the
overhanging branches of the wide spreading foliage lent a charm and
grateful shade to the occasion. The men were engaged in digging the
‘taro’ roots, from their irrigated beds, and the women busy washing and
preparing them for culinary purposes. The ladies here, present no
exception to a proverbial excess in the use of the ‘unruly member’ as
the especially noticeable characteristic of the gentler sex in more
favoured parts of the world, and a Babel-like clatter of tongues formed
a striking accompaniment to the quietness and order of the work in hand.
The taro beds of course are mud, pure and simple, and the taro when dug
is a very dirty vegetable, it is covered over besides with long
tenacious feelers for roots, and these are picked off with the fingers
in the most skilled and practised manner much after the fashion of
plucking and preparing a bird for table. When the cleaning and plucking
process is perfected, the long stalks are collected to a head and tied
up in convenient bundles with one of their own parts in the most
ingenious and knowing manner. Two bundles are then arranged on one long
pole, and carried by one bearer on the shoulder, one bundle before and
another behind their backs. The weight is considerable, but here the
burden is borne by the men, the women carry the broad leaves and other
concomitants of native cookery. Beyond the cackle there was very much
merriment which all seemed in accord with the dancing sparkling waters
of the clear flowing river. The prospect around was most beautiful and
although not extensive the landscape was most bewitching, and the eye
was never tired with seeing.
These natives have great natural taste, which is displayed to a far
greater degree in the arrangement and beautifying of their yam and taro
gardens here, than in any other island I have seen.
The broad, handsome evergreen taro leaf spreads its verdure right and
left, and all around, amid the friendship of the gay-leaved croton, the
majestic dracæna, and the vari-coloured hibiscus, while here and there,
to vary the prospect, the graceful cocoanut lends the beauty and
elegance of its chastely spreading branches; all this beauty is thrown
into relief by a back ground of the most marvellously beautiful bush,
which shuts it in as with a natural fence, and leaves the only wish and
feeling with the observer just to get for a moment a peep of what lies
beyond. Breaks here and there however, in the background, revealed
distant hills clad to their very summits with a richness and profusion
of vegetation such as always abounds in these lovely islands where
‘every prospect pleases.’ I could select so many subjects for pictures
here as almost to finish up all my dry plates, my only hope is that I
may meet with some measure of success when by and bye I try my hand at
photography. A header into the cool waters and a swim up and down stream
was very refreshing. The boys enlivened the scene by their merriment and
gambolling in the water, and altogether it was an occasion of much
delight, and not the less so to me when I considered that all these
people, almost without exception, had passed before through the healing
waters of Holy Baptism. As possessing so much of the element, it is
perhaps only natural that these people should love the water, and bathe
a great deal more than their appearance would give one reason to
suspect. The boys, and more especially, I think, the girls, are very
fond of the water, and never seem tired of bathing when near the
river-side. ‘Tanrig’ is distant about two miles from the river, and this
distance, although inconvenient for many reasons, is very convenient for
others, and especially because of the mosquitos which abound in the
neighbourhood. Here some times they are bad enough, but by the
water-side they are, I believe, unbearable. I know I find them
troublesome enough there by day, and I don’t care to experience the
worry and misery of them by night. They are called here ‘namu,’ and are
said to be particularly troublesome at a certain period in the growth
and maturity of the yam.
Any one who has not lived in a tropical country can have very little
conception of the discomfort and worry of these little maddening
tormentors. Yet there are others whose attacks produce more serious
consequences, and an illustration was afforded this evening. “Kate
Tevano” (Arthur’s wife) was coming across to my house, and when almost
at my door she gave a scream of terror and retired at once back again. I
rushed out to learn the cause, and found she had been bitten by a
centipede in the toe. The blood was just oozing out, and there were the
distinct marks of his two fangs. In about ten minutes she was in great
agony, and in the course of the evening her foot swelled and the pain
was most terrible, and she couldn’t bear anything near it. Poor child, I
left her in floods of bitter tears before going to bed, and she expected
to be in pain all night long. The natives have some antidote for it, and
the women were applying that all the evening. I confess that I did not
know myself what to do, except to bathe it with hot water. There was a
great hunt for the venomous little reptile, but of course he had made
himself scarce. How he got on her foot, and why he bit her, no one
knows, but there are multitudes of the creatures here, and perhaps the
mystery is that people are not more often bitten. They have scorpions
too here whose bite is very venomous, but one doesn’t often hear of
their biting. There is a very large ant here called the ‘gandee’ to
which I have a great aversion, and its bite is very sharp. Snakes here
are not venomous, but the people have an instinctive dread of them, but
they do not trouble us much. There is a hideous creature which lives in
the thatch of the houses, an ugly toad-like lizard, with large red
prominent eyes, which has such a tenacity of grasp with its feet that it
sometimes even sticks so tight to the person it attacks as to take away
the very skin in its grasp. Indeed, to me there are many strange and
uncanny creatures in these islands to which I give as wide a berth as
possible. Even in putting on your clothes you may find that a scorpion
or centipede have taken up their quarters, in your hat you may find
another monster, while most likely your shoes will be the tenement of
some hideous reptile. Use and experience cannot rid one of a shudder
when one thinks what may be, and yet if one is always anticipating these
evils one’s very life becomes a burden.
_Tuesday, 27th July._--I visited poor Kate this morning as soon as I got
up, and found her still in considerable pain and her foot a good deal
swollen. She had slept but little during the night, and was still very
tearful. However, her friends assured her that the poisonous effects
would soon pass away, and it proved true, for I saw her walking, or
rather limping about during the course of the forenoon. I was anxious to
see a centipede this morning, and by and bye a man came bringing one
which he held tightly by head and tail. It was a pretty creature and not
so black as some I have seen, the legs indeed were of an orange yellow
colour. It tried very hard to riggle away, but the ruthless boys soon
put an end to its existence. How many legs it actually has I did not
stop to count, but I saw its nasty fangs and preferred keeping a
respectable distance from them.
A nasty lizard such as I have before mentioned was shortly after
discovered in the thatch of my house just over my head, and captured
after an exciting hunt. One creeps when these creatures are brought so
near one, and is thankful for daily protection from them.
To-day has been the occasion of an important event here, viz: the
thatching of a gamal (men’s quarters). This, indeed, is one of the
greatest events known here, and there has been much feasting and
festivity. The men do the thatching, and neighbours and strangers from a
distance come to assist. There must have been quite a hundred men at
work to-day, and it was the part and duty of the women to prepare food
for them, and judging by the quantity spread out to-night they must have
been kept pretty busy at work.
The house was a large one, and it took most of the day to finish it. The
roof when complete was most neat, and a perfect protection from heat and
wet for many years to come. The thatch is made from the frond of the
sago palm and very durable. Cocoanut fronds are sometimes used, but they
do not make so neat a roof nor nearly so lasting.
These native houses, although seemingly such poor structures, take some
time and skill in building, and are very fair habitations when finished.
They are rather low according to our ideas of comfort, but the natives
grow accustomed to a crouching posture within doors, and they say the
low roof does not catch the wind so easily, nor is the interior so cold.
This is a consideration for people with no clothing, and I know myself
from experience how cool it sometimes is here. Indeed, this very year I
have never passed a night without being covered with a blanket, and even
then I have not quite kept the cold away. A native, however, generally
sleeps near a fire, and the interior of their houses are very snug.
After the work was done this evening there was a great brew of kava, a
drink made from the root of the kava plant, but here called “Malowo,”
and highly intoxicating. There is much ceremony in connection with the
drinking of this beverage, which as far as I have seen, if taken in fair
moderation, produces strong inebriation, but is not an excitant, nor
does it leave any ill effects when once the narcotic effects pass off.
Any one who drinks is supposed to do so fasting, in order, I believe,
that the draught may have the more effect. One or two cups are enough to
produce intoxication, but of course men will make beasts of themselves
in the drinking of kava, as well as of any other strong drink. Here it
is prepared from the green root, and grated up with a rough, round coral
stone, then squeezed into cups made of the half of a cocoanut shell,
strained and mixed with water, after which it is ready for imbibation.
To look at it is like soap suds, and to the taste it is like what I
should suppose that compound resembled, with an additional admixture of
rhubarb and magnesia, with a suspicion of strong senna or black draught.
Indeed I think it is about the nastiest potion conceivable, and no
wonder the drinker takes an unconscionably long time in swallowing the
compound, and when finished would almost rather he had never drunk it. I
was very glad to see most of our own people at school and prayers, but I
believe some have reserved the ‘nightcap’ till nearer bed-time. When the
drowsiness is over I believe a craving for food results, and then the
appetite is appeased even if it be in the middle of the night.
Certainly, however, a man is never quarrelsome over his cups, but a
drowsiness and torpor creep over the most quarrelsome and irrepressive
after the draught. The mode of preparation similar to that practised
here obtains in all the Northern New Hebrides, as far as I know, but at
Mota and the Banks’ Islands generally, and in Fiji it is prepared by a
process of mastication, and is not nearly so intoxicating in its
effects. At Santa Cruz and in the Solomon Islands the use of the kava is
unknown, but instead they chew the betel nut.
I had the old men for school to-night, and very interesting it was, old
blind Sulu (Daniel) was among the number and paid the greatest
attention, assenting in a marked fashion when anything especially
pleased him. Poor fellow, he finds wonderful comfort in his religion,
and is a most regular attendant at all services and at school. He gets
about wonderfully in spite of his blindness, and does wonderful things
for a man so totally blind. His patience and cheerfulness under his
affliction are marvellous, and he seems to live in hopeful anticipation
of the time when he shall see his Lord and Master face to face, Whom now
he sees with the inward eyes of his spirit. He is the only blind man
here, and I have never seen but one dumb man in these islands.
_Wednesday, 28th July._--Our people had a great dance last night after
school which they kept up with great spirit and vigour until an early
hour this morning. The occasion was the thatching of the new gamal, and
a great many took part, and never once intermitted their vigour from the
start to the finish. The dance is called a “Sagoro,” but the chief part
of it consists of singing with a clapping of hands and peculiar dancing
in time. It is no easy work, and when I went to see them about the
middle of the performance the perspiration was running down their
bodies. Some of the songs are very pretty, but the movement of the dance
is not particularly graceful or elegant. The women stand in a ring
outside, and what is called “weluwelu.” This ‘weluing’ consists in
keeping the feet close together and moving the knees from right to left
besides joining in the chorus. Their shrill voices sound quite weird
along with the deep tones of the males, but by no means discordant.
Native songs have mostly an air sung by one voice, and a chorus joined
in by all, and these Maewoese are noted for their songs. I did not
attempt to go to sleep before the performance was over, and the
consequence was a slight dilatoriness this morning, which as might be
expected, was not only manifest in my case. However, after morning
duties here I started with Arthur Huqe and Patrick for Mandurvat,
passing through the pretty snug little village of Naruru on the way.
Here we found a man by name ‘Tamaragai’ sitting with his pretty wife and
child in the neat enclosure in front of his house. All the other
denizens of the village according to the invariable custom which
prevails here, had scattered to the four winds. After the dew is off the
bushes here there is a general exodus from all the villages, and at noon
it is useless to look for any one at home, for all are abroad. They are
very industrious people and find perpetual occupation in their gardens
or elsewhere from morning till evening. They say if they stay at home
they do nothing but sleep, and a native has not many resources for
occupying his time indoors. They have a great dread of the dew, for they
say it engenders elephantiasis. Cases of this unpleasant disease are
very prevalent here, and it looks very odd to see men and women with
great swollen legs and feet and monster hands and arms. However, those
afflicted with it do not seem to suffer so much pain as discomfort.
We reached our destination after a somewhat weary walk on account of the
dampness of the roads after the heavy rain in the night. I found a nice
new school, and the teachers awaiting my arrival. The population is
small, but the people are well-intentioned and anxious for instruction
as exhibited by their having built the school entirely themselves. The
leading spirit there and his wife came to-day and asked for Baptism, and
desired that they should at once be put under instruction for that
sacred Rite. This was cheering, and I hope the example thus set will be
largely followed. Food according to native custom had been prepared, and
green cocoanuts, and we spent some considerable time with the kind
hearted people. They have only an inferior teacher, but he is very
zealous to do his best according to the amount of wisdom and knowledge
he possesses. They have some sort of daily service and school, but it
must of necessity be very elementary.
It is etiquette here for the host or someone appointed by him to see you
off the premises, and this afternoon we were escorted some distance from
the village by most of the male population, and when at what was looked
upon as a respectable distance they stepped to one side, a sign that
that was the last we should have of their society, and calling my name
the host said, “Iya, go sage,” which is perhaps equal to “There, you go
up,” to which I was supposed to respond calling his name, “Io, go toga,”
“All right, you stop.” We then started for home. Arriving at Na Ruru the
major part of the population were awaiting us, and Anthony the teacher
with them, fear has driven him and his little flock to take refuge here,
the third exodus they have made from their homes, and it is hoped that
at last they will be safe from the ruthless incursions of the heathen
bushmen. Poor fellow, he had begun to build a substantial new church,
which was left with the other houses in their precipitate flight, but
nothing daunted he has begun a third time to collect materials for
another building. Had they continued however where they were, I doubt if
they would have been molested. The only excuse for so doing would have
been that they were friends of the villagers attacked by the bushmen. We
sat for some time in conversation with the friendly people until the
sinking sun warned us to be up and moving homewards. After prayers and
singing, which we always have by an unvariable custom instead of school
on Wednesday evenings, I received a request from some heathen strangers,
twenty in number, that they might dance before me. I assented, and now
at a late hour they are still at it, and going ahead with such vigour
that I do not like to stop them. This dance is a piece of policy, for I
am supposed to give them a handsome gratuity at the end, and the request
to-night has been for tobacco. I am supposed also to be very liberal on
these occasions, and certainly they have earned their wages. Their dance
is very like that of the Tanrig people, but of course the songs are
somewhat different, and to my taste not so pleasing. It is certainly
curious that people living really in such close proximity should speak a
dialect so utterly different that I can scarcely understand a word they
say. I always assent to their dancing for it brings them here in large
numbers, and for no ulterior purposes, and I like in every way to
cultivate all friendly feeling between ourselves and our neighbours.
Their powers of endurance are wonderful, there were many small boys
among the dancers to-night, and the hands of my watch pointed to nearly
2 o’clock a.m. before they finished, and previously they must have
walked some twelve or fifteen miles over very rugged country. It must be
considered too that these dances are performed without any intermission,
and carried through with great vigour to the very end. I believe they
had contemplated going on till morning, but that would be too terrible.
Now as I write this they are gone, and the place is as quiet as if I
were alone the sole inhabitant. I am now quite ready for bed and have
really been so for hours, but the din and noise would render sleep an
impossibility. God grant that in time these heathen songs may be changed
for Christian hymns.
_Thursday, 29th July._--My house has been thronged all day with heathen
visitors, and I have tried to say something about our blessed religion.
I hope they were duly impressed. They certainly gave me a warm
invitation to visit them which I shall not be backward to accept, and
moreover they promised to pick me out two or three boys to go to Norfolk
Island. One man was most anxious to visit Norfolk Island, and I promised
him that if he were so minded when the ship came back his wish should be
gratified. I dare say I was quite safe in my promise, for no doubt he
will cry off at the last. However, I hope I may get the boys. Everything
was a matter of astonishment to these poor people, who have rarely if
ever seen a white man, and a trumpet and pop gun which I gave a small
boy produced the most unbounded delight. I wish my good friend
Archdeacon Stock and Miss Kreeft had been here to see what unfeigned joy
their kind gifts produced. A prettily dressed doll I brought with me,
and which came too, I think, from Wellington, has been the seven day
wonder during my visit. Yesterday one of the boys threw it down by
accident, and the frail waxwork fell to pieces. There has been more
lament over that lifeless toy than over half a dozen ordinary female
human beings. Agnes, however, this morning disgorged a beautiful doll of
her own, which she got from a Christmas tree, carefully wrapped in ample
folds of calico, and the Bushmen I think will never lose the impression
the revelation of its beauty produced upon them.