FIVE KNOTS IN A PALM LEAF
_The Death of Patteson_
(Date of Incident, September 20th, 1871)
The masts of the schooner _The Southern Cross_ swung gently to and
fro across the darkening sky as the long, calm rollers of the Pacific
slipped past her hull. Her bows spread only a ripple of water as the
slight breeze bore her slowly towards the island of Nukapu.[32]
On deck stood a group of men, their brown faces turned to a tall,
bearded man. As the light of the setting sun gleamed on his bronze
face, it kindled his brave eyes and showed the grave smile that played
about the corners of his mouth. They all looked on him with that
worship which strong men give to a hero, who can be both brave and
kindly. But "he wist not that his face shone" for them.
Patteson read to these young men from a Book; and the words that
he read were these: "And they stoned Stephen, calling upon God and
saying, 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.' And he knelt down and cried,
with a loud voice, 'Lord, lay not this sin to their charge'; and when
he had said this, he fell asleep."
When he had spoken to them strongly on these words and said how it may
come to any man who worships Jesus to suffer so, Bishop Patteson and
all except the man on watch went to their sleep. The South Sea Island
men and the young Englishman who were there remembered all their
lives what Patteson had said that evening; partly because these men
themselves had seen him brave such a death as Stephen's again and
again, and, indeed, they had themselves stood in peril by his side
face to face with threatening savages, but even more because of the
adventure that came to them on the next day.
At dawn they sighted land, and by eleven o'clock they were so near
that they could see, shimmering in the heat of the midsummer sun, the
white beach of coral sand and the drooping palms that make all the
island of Nukapu green.[33] Looking out under their hands to the
island, the men aboard _The Southern Cross_ could see four great
canoes, with their sails set, hovering like hawks about the circling
reef which lay between them and the island. On the reef the blue waves
beat and broke into a gleaming line of cool white foam.
The slight breeze was hardly strong enough to help the ship to make
the island. It was as though she knew the danger of that day and would
not carry Patteson and his men into the perils that lay hidden behind
the beauty of that island of Nukapu.
Patteson knew the danger. He knew that, but a little time before their
visit, white men had come in a ship, had let down their boats and
rowed to the men of the island, had pretended to make friends, and
then, shooting some and capturing others, had sped back to the ship,
carrying off the captives to work for them on the island of Fiji. The
law of the savages of the islands was "Blood for blood." And to
them all white men belonged to one tribe. The peril that lay before
Patteson was that they might attack him in revenge for the foul crime
of those white traders.
Just before noon the order was given to lower a boat from _The
Southern Cross_. Patteson went down into it, and sat in the stern,
while Mr. Atkin (his English helper), Stephen Taroniara, James Minipa,
and John Nonono came with him to row. The boat swung toward the
reef. Between the reef and the island lay two miles of the blue and
glittering lagoon.
By the time the boat reached the reef six canoes full of warriors had
come together there. The tide was not high enough to float the boat
across the reef. The Nukapuan natives said they would haul the boat up
on to the reef, but the Bishop did not think it wise to consent. Then
two of the savages said to "Bisipi," as they called the Bishop:
"Will you come into our canoe?"
Without a moment's hesitation, knowing that confidence was the best
way to win them, he stepped into the canoe. As he entered they gave
him a basket with yams and other fruit in it.
As the tide was low, the Bishop and the savages were obliged to wade
over the reef, dragging the canoe across to the deeper lagoon within.
The boat's crew of _The Southern Cross_ stopped in the outer sea,
drifting on the tide with the other four Nukapu canoes. They watched
the Bishop cross the lagoon in the canoe and land far off upon the
beach. Then he went from their sight.
The brown men and the white man in the boat were trying to talk to the
islanders in the remaining canoes outside the reef, when suddenly a
savage jumped up in the nearest canoe, not ten yards from them, and
called out in his native language:
"Have you anything like this?"
He drew his bow to his ear and shot a yard arrow. His companions
in the other canoes leapt to their feet and sent showers of arrows
whizzing at the men in the boat, shouting as they aimed:
"This for New Zealand man, this for Bernu man, this for Motu man."
Pulling away with all their speed, Patteson's men were soon out of
range, but an arrow had nailed John Nonono's cap to his head. Stephen
lay in the bottom of the boat with six arrows in his chest and
shoulders. Mr. Atkin, the white man, had one in his left shoulder.
They reached the ship and were helped on board. The arrow head was
drawn out from Mr. Atkin's shoulder, and was found to be made of a
sharpened human bone. No sooner was the arrow head out than Mr. Atkin
leapt back into the boat, insisting on going back to find Patteson.
He alone knew how and where the reef could be crossed on the tide that
was now rising.
So they got a boat's crew from the ship, put a beaker full of water
and some food in the boat, and pulled toward the reef.
At half-past four the tide was high enough to carry them across, and
they rowed over, looking through their glasses anxiously at the white
shore which was lined with brown figures. A canoe rowed out towards
them bringing another canoe in tow. As the boat went towards the
island, one canoe cast off the other, and went back; the second canoe
drifted towards them slowly on the still waters of the blue lagoon.
As it came nearer they saw that in the middle of it lay Something
motionless, covered with matting. They pulled alongside, leaned over
the canoe, and lifted into their boat--the body of Patteson. The empty
canoe now drifted away.
A yell went up from the savages on the shore. The boat was pulled
towards the ship and then the body lifted up and laid on the deck. It
had been rolled in the native matting as a shroud, tied at the head
and feet. They unrolled the mat, and there on the face of the dead
Bishop was still that wonderful, patient and winning smile, as of one
who at the moment when his head was beneath the uplifted club said,
"Lord, lay not this sin to their charge," and had then fallen asleep.
There was a palm leaf fastened over his breast. In its long leaflets
five knots were made. On the body, in the head, the side, and the
legs were five wounds. And five men in Fiji were at work in the
plantations--men captured from Nukapu by brutal white traders.
It was the vengeance of the savage--the call of "blood for blood"; and
the death of Patteson lies surely upon the head of those white traders
who carried death and captivity to the white coral shore of Nukapu.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 32: Noo-k[)a]-poo.]
[Footnote 33: Midsummer day on the Equator, September 21.]