The Cruise of the "Janet Nichol"
[Illustration: _Mr. and Mrs. Robert Louis Stevenson on the bridge of
the "Janet Nichol"_]
The Cruise of the
"Janet Nichol"
Among the
South Sea Islands
A Diary by
Mrs. Robert Louis Stevenson
New York
Charles Scribner's Sons
1914
Copyright, 1914, by
Charles Scribner's Sons
Published October, 1914
[Illustration]
PREFACE
It is always necessary to make certain elisions in a diary not
meant for publication at the time of writing. For many reasons "The
Cruise of the _Janet Nichol_" has been pruned rather severely. It
was, originally, only intended to be a collection of hints to help
my husband's memory where his own diary had fallen in arrears;
consequently, it frequently happened that incidents given in my diary
were re-written (to their great betterment), amplified, and used
in his. I have deleted these as far as possible, though not always
completely; also things pertaining to the private affairs of other
persons, and, naturally, our own. I fear the allusions to the _Devil
Box_ may seem obscure. It happened that my husband wrote a complete
description of the purchase of the _Devil Box_ in his own diary, so it
seemed necessary for me to note further references to it, but nothing
more. In the minute description, almost like a catalogue, of the
articles in the different buildings in the island of Suwarrow, I must
appear to have gone to the opposite extreme. At that time my husband
had an idea of writing a South Sea island romance where he might wish
to use such pathetic and tragic flotsam and jetsam from wrecked ships
and wrecked lives. At the risk of tedium I have let it stand, hoping
that some one else may see the intangible things I beheld.
One reason I have hesitated a little to give for publishing this diary,
is the extraordinary number of books now being printed purporting
to give accurate accounts of our lives on board ship and elsewhere,
by persons with whom we were very slightly acquainted, or had never
consciously met. I have read, among other misstatements, of the making
of the flag for Tembinoka, by the writer and my daughter on the
beach at Apemama. The flag was designed by me, on board the schooner
_Equator_, and made, in the most prosaic manner, by a firm in Sydney.
No one, outside our immediate family, sailed with us on any of our
cruises. All the books "With Stevenson" here, and "With Stevenson"
there, are manufactured out of "such stuff as dreams are made on," and
false in almost every particular. Contrary to the general idea, my
husband was a man of few intimate friends, and even with these he was
reticent to a degree.
This diary was written under the most adverse conditions--sometimes
on the damp, upturned bottom of a canoe or whaleboat, sometimes when
lying face down on the burning sands of the tropic beach, often in
copra sheds in the midst of a pandemonium of noise and confusion,
but oftener on board the rolling _Janet_ (whose pet name was the
_Jumping Jenny_) to the accompaniment of "Tin Jack's" incessant and
inconsequent conversation--but never in comfortable surroundings. For
such inadequate results the labour required was tremendously out of
proportion, giving my diary a sort of fictitious value in the eyes of
my husband, who wished to save it from oblivion by publication. The
little book, however dull it may seem to others, can boast of at least
one reader, for I have gone over this record of perhaps the happiest
period of my life with thrilling interest.
FANNY V. DE G. STEVENSON.
ILLUSTRATIONS
Mr. and Mrs. Robert Louis Stevenson on the
bridge of the _Janet Nichol_ _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
Map to illustrate the cruise of the _Janet Nichol_,
April 11th-July 25th, 1890 1
Outside of the great dance-house, Butaritari, during
the competition between the dancers of Butaritari
and those of Little Makin 2
Maka and Mary Maka, Kanoa and Mrs. Maria Kanoa,
Hawaiian missionaries of the American Board of
Missions, Honolulu, on the Island of Butaritari, one
of the Gilbert Islands 4
Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson in company with Nan Tok
and Natakanti on Butaritari Island 6
The _Janet Nichol_ with ship's company 20
The King of Manihiki in the centre, with the island
judge on his right and Tin Jack, seated, on his left 40
Natives dancing 48
Penrhyn Island 52
Figurehead from a wrecked ship on the veranda of the
white trader's house, Penrhyn Island 56
The _Janet Nichol_ at anchor off Penrhyn Island 64
View of deserted buildings on Suwarrow Island. The
man seated in the centre is Tin Jack 74
The settlement on Nassau Island 78
Missionary from a civilized island, and some of her
converts 80
Native boys setting sail on S. S. _Janet Nichol_ 96
Tom Day--a trader of Noukanau Island 120
"Equator Town," showing corner of the sleeping-house,
and cook-house 128
"The Baron and Baroness," Butaritari, one of the
Gilbert Islands 132
Interior of the moniop of Tembinoka's harem 136
A Marshall Island canoe 140
Speak House, Island of Maraki 144
White trader and his wife "Topsy," Majuro Island 152
Kaibuke--one of the kings of Majuro 158
Harem and little son of King Tembinoka on board the
_Janet Nichol_ passing from Aranuka to Apemama 162
Dance at Apemama 166
The Cruise of the "Janet Nichol"
[Illustration: _Map to illustrate the cruise of the "Janet Nichol,"
April 11th-July 25th, 1890_]
THE CRUISE OF THE "JANET NICHOL"
The _Janet Nichol_ was an iron-screw cargo boat, topsail schooner
rigged, of some six hundred tons gross. Her large, airy saloon and
cabins were placed amidship on the main deck, with ports opening
forward, the "trade room" being at the extreme aft. There was a
comfortable bathroom and space enough on deck for exercise; but, for
that matter, we might walk, sit, or sleep where we would. I have slept
in the chart room and on the platform of the captain's bridge; though
the after hatch, over which a great awning was spread, was the place
chosen by the most of us for permanent night quarters. Here some
swung in hammocks, some lay on mats, while the more luxurious carried
blankets and pillows back and forth each night and morning. For me
four mats were hung in a square; the mats, being loosely woven, did
not cut off the current of air that usually swept over the hatch nor,
unfortunately, the terrible groans of one of the mates who slept near
me and was subject to nightmares.
Our mess consisted of Mr. Henderson, a member of the company that owned
the vessel; Captain Henry, sailing-master; Mr. Hird, supercargo; Mr.
Stoddard, engineer; Mr. Buckland, commonly called Tin Jack (Tin being
the island equivalent for Mr.), a trader of the company returning to
his station, my husband, my son Lloyd, and myself. The _Janet_ carried
a crew of about nine white men and some forty-odd black boys from the
different islands of the Solomons and the New Hebrides.
We left Sydney on the 11th of April with a head wind and heavy seas
until we arrived at Auckland, making seven days from port to port.
* * * * *
_April 18th, 1890._--At Auckland in time for dinner. Went on shore and
dined at a hotel with the supercargo and Tin Jack. Louis and I slept at
the hotel with the understanding that Tin Jack and Lloyd should meet
us in the morning with a shopping list. Immediately on our arrival in
Auckland a strange cat jumped through a port-hole and now remains on
board.
[Illustration: _Outside of the great dance-house, Butaritari, during
the competition between the dancers of Butaritari and those of Little
Makin. Robert Louis Stevenson can be seen near the centre, just bending
over to enter_]
_19th._--Bought a broadcloth coat for Maka and a good black silk dress
for Mary. As the _Janet_ was bound for "the South Seas" and nothing
more definite, we thought it better to carry presents in case we found
ourselves in the neighbourhood of Butaritari.[1] I came back to the
hotel in advance of Tin Jack and Lloyd, who stopped to buy fireworks
for the entertainment of Tin Jack's native retainers. Besides the
fireworks, which included ten pounds of "calcium fire," Tin Jack has
also purchased cartridges, grease-paints, a false nose, and a wig.
[Illustration: _Maka and Mary Maka, Kanoa and Mrs. Maria Kanoa,
Hawaiian missionaries of the American Board of Missions, Honolulu, on
the Island of Butaritari, one of the Gilbert Islands_]
[1] We had met the Hawaiian missionary Maka and his wife Mary on
our second South Sea cruise at Butaritari, one of the low islands
belonging to the Kingsmill group. Maka and his wife being away at
the time, by the advice of the resident trader we had burglariously
entered and taken possession of the missionaries' comfortable little
wooden house, where we made ourselves at home while we complacently
awaited the arrival of our involuntary host. Having thus identified
ourselves with the missionary party, and laid ourselves under such
heavy obligations to them, we felt bound to forego many amusements
and friendships, otherwise interesting, that would have been
objectionable to Maka. However, during the time of the great
festival, when the neighbouring islanders of Little Makin (called by
the traders "Little Muggin") came over, in answer to a challenge
from the Butaritaris to dance against them for what sportsmen would
call "the championship," Maka retired into discreet obscurity,
giving us an opportunity to become acquainted with the King of
Little Makin and to attend the heathen dances. But Maka and Mary
remained our most real friends in spite of our momentary defection
toward Makin. When we left Butaritari we could find nothing
suitable to offer them as parting gifts, in the island fashion, and
to show our gratitude for their many almost overwhelming kindnesses;
hence the silk dress and clergyman's frock coat. Two other friends,
consistent converts to Christianity, to whom we also carried
presents, we left behind us with regret, Nan Tok and his wife; but
they were of a different sort from Maka and Mary, being natives of
Butaritari and, from Maka's point of view, quite uncivilised, as, in
ordinary life the lady (there are only _ladies_ in the South Seas,
woman being a word that is tapu in all society, high or low), a
rich, high chief woman, wore the _ridi_ only, while for full dress
she appeared in a white chemise fresh from the trader's shelves with
the marks where it had been folded still showing. My first meeting
with Nan Tok and his wife was rather alarming. The King had raised
the tapu from drink, consequently, the entire island, including his
dull majesty, was wildly drunk on "sour toddy" (the fermented sap of
the flower-stalk of the cocoanut), which is the most dangerous
intoxicant in the world, as it incites in its users a frenzied
desire to shed blood. During this period of licence I accidentally
came upon two women fighting together like wild beasts, their teeth
sunk into each other's faces, which were streaming blood. "Oh, what
is the matter?" I cried. "Sour toddy," replied the woman to whom I
spoke, casting a contemptuous glance over her shoulder as she passed
on.
In the circumstances it was thought unsafe for me to leave our own
small premises, but one quiet afternoon I broke bounds and went over
to the weather side of the island to hunt for shells. Here a strange
man and woman joined me; they were not reassuring companions,
judging from outer appearances, as they were unkempt, clad in
nothing but a small fragment, each, of dirty, old gunny sack, and
their faces were haggard and anxious. At first they walked with me
as I went about my business of gathering shells, but presently,
seeming to tire of this amusement, they began to crowd me off the
beach toward the land; then seizing me by the arms, one on either
side, they boldly marched me into a narrow, crooked path that led
through the clustering cocoanut-trees with which the island was
heavily wooded. As I reluctantly moved along beside my captors, the
lady, evidently with a kindly feeling for my comfort, drew a clay
pipe from out an enormous hole in her ear, stuffed it with strong,
coarse tobacco, lighted it, puffed a moment, and then placed it in
my mouth. As I could not guess whether their intentions were hostile
or otherwise and all the warnings I had received flashed through my
mind, with sublime courage I accepted the situation. But it was a
solemn experience. We emerged from the palms to find the town in a
turbulent uproar, the street in front of our house filled with a
howling, fighting, drunken mob. It was a great relief to find we
were just in front of my own door; the two natives held me fast
until we were safely on the little veranda, when, to my
astonishment, the man fell on his knees and offered up a fervent
prayer.
So began our friendship with Nan Tok and his wife (my husband always
called them the "baron and baroness"). They told us afterward with
what anxiety they had watched me wander through the woods alone;
then how, after a heated argument as to the proper means to pursue,
they concluded to force me back to safety. The incident of the pipe
was an attempt to conciliate me because of a supposed fiery gleam in
my eyes that disconcerted them. The prayer was one of thanks for the
outcome of their adventure and a petition that this should prove the
beginning of a new friendship that should be blessed to us all.
* * * * *
Lloyd was a little doubtful about the calcium fire and questioned
the man at the chemist shop rather closely, particularly as to its
inflammability, explaining that it was to be carried on board ship.
The man declared that it was perfectly safe, "as safe," said he,
"as a packet of sugar," adding that fire from a match would not be
sufficient to ignite it. "Will you have it with or without fumes?"
he asked as he turned to make up the parcel. The thrifty trader
thought that he might as well get all he could for the money expended,
therefore took it with fumes.
[Illustration: _Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson in company with Nan Tok and
Natakanti on Butaritari Island_]
_On Board in the Afternoon._--A little trouble with the trades-union,
but nothing serious. Mr. W----, a bookseller, who had recognised Louis
from a published portrait, called in the evening. He kindly offered to
get pistol cartridges for us, and after a few minutes' conversation
ran away after them, returning just as we were about to leave, with a
couple hundred or thereabouts. The fireworks were sent aboard with
other parcels, and, having no distinguishing marks, Lloyd put them all,
along with our cartridges, on his bunk until Tin Jack, whose cabin he
shared, should come below and sort them out. Among them should be a
pistol Tin Jack had taken to have mended, belonging to Louis.
_20th._--We left Auckland last evening at about eight, the streaming
lights from the town following us a long way. A small, half-grown dog
has joined the ship's company.
Between ten and eleven Louis was lying in his cabin very tired and glad
to rest. Tin Jack and Lloyd were in Mr. Henderson's cabin drinking
coffee and discussing "land booms." I sat at the saloon table eating
brown bread and butter. Suddenly, from the cabin occupied by Tin
Jack and Lloyd, came a spitting puff, almost immediately followed by
gorgeous flames and the most horrible chemical stench. The calcium
fire that was as safe as a packet of sugar had gone off and ignited
the rest of the fireworks. Only Lloyd and I knew of the cartridges in
their midst, but we discreetly held our tongues, though every moment
we expected to hear the ping of flying bullets. I ran into our cabin
and snatched a heavy red blanket. At the same time Mr. Henderson was
fetching a large, handsome woollen rug from his cabin. I felt for a
hand to put the blanket in, for the place was so full of suffocating
vapour that one could see nothing but the many-hued flames darting
through it. Fortunately, it was the captain's hand I delivered my
blanket into. Rid of my blanket, I ran back and thrust my head out of
a port to get a breath of air; the ports, although they were the means
of fanning the flames, could not be shut on account of the strangling
fumes. Here Mr. Henderson, who had been for some minutes lying on the
stairs quite insensible, came to fetch me out; so, catching his hand, I
ran through the saloon to the companionway and up to the deck.
Louis, who knew nothing of the fireworks having been brought on board,
was thunderstruck by the vivid changing colours of the spouts of flame,
and stood for some time gazing at the extraordinary scene and inhaling
the poisonous vapours. "Why," he thought with wonder, "should a fire at
sea look like a Christmas pantomime?" His amazement was so great that
he was hardly conscious of the fumes.
The captain, from the bridge, had seen heavy vapour pouring upward and
was both puzzled and angry, thinking the engineer was letting off
steam for purposes of his own. The stuff must, therefore, have been
smouldering for a considerable time before it burst into flames, the
draught carrying the smoke out of the open port instead of into the
saloon, so that our first knowledge of anything amiss came from the
bursting of rockets into the saloon. As the captain was looking at
the supposed column of steam there suddenly shot through it, rising
high into the air, a shaft of blue, green, and red fire. Ordering the
donkey-engine to pump water and the hose to be put on, he ran below
and crawled into the very centre of the fire with the blanket, rug,
and hose, and succeeded in smothering the flames none too soon for the
safety of the ship; he said afterward that had the wind come from a
different quarter, or had the cartridges exploded, nothing could have
saved us.
There was no panic among our black boys, who worked swiftly and
obediently; I rather suspect they enjoyed the excitement of the affair.
Talking it over, the captain said how lucky it was that he had a man at
the wheel that he could trust. Lloyd and I said nothing, but we both
knew there had been no man at the wheel; the trusted one ran below with
the rest. It was a rather dangerous moment to leave the ship drifting,
for we were not nearly out of the harbour, being just opposite the
lighthouse when the fire broke out. A steamer passed us quite closely
when the scene was at its wildest. Coloured fire and thick white vapour
belching from our ports must have given us a very strange and alarming
aspect. Lloyd looked over the opposite side of our ship and saw the
ports there, also, vomiting vapour like a factory.
To our surprise the cartridge-boxes were only slightly scorched. Our
personal loss, however, has been very severe. About ninety photographs
were destroyed and all of Lloyd's clothes except those on his back.
Neither he nor I have even a tooth-brush left. The annoying thing is
that Tin Jack has lost nothing whatever. Lloyd is very bitter about the
discrimination shown in the matter of trousers by the fire. I stopped
a couple of black boys just in time to prevent them throwing overboard
a blazing valise containing four large boxes of Louis' papers. A black
bag, its contents at present unknown, is burned, and innumerable small
necessaries that conduce to comfort on shipboard are lost. I have ever
since been in a tremor lest Louis have a hæmorrhage. If he does I shall
feel inclined to do something very desperate to the chemist, who, for
the sake of a few shillings, put us all in such deadly peril. A horrid
smell still hangs about the place and every one feels ill. Though I
hardly breathed in the room, I have a heavy oppression on my chest,
and my throat and lungs burn as though I were inhaling pepper. From
the time we left Auckland the water has been as smooth as glass, and
there has been no jarring or knocking about; the stuff must have gone
off by simple spontaneous combustion. Had it taken place a very little
later, Tin Jack must have been sleeping in the berth above, and should
undoubtedly have been suffocated.
_2lst._--Still drying the remains of Lloyd's clothes, burned and wet in
the fire, and discovering more and more losses. Fortunately, the flag I
had made for King Tembinoka was not injured at all (a royal standard I
invented for him). The flag for the island I had already sent, and the
cartridge-belt Lloyd is taking to him for a present is only a little
smudged.[2] Both our cameras escaped as by magic.
[2] This flag was designed on a former cruise after we had left
Apemama, the principal of the three islands comprising the group
under King Tembinoka, the last of the absolute monarchs of the
South Seas. The King had asked that we send him a flag, so one
evening, on board the schooner _Equator_, we each drew and
coloured a flag. These were voted on by the ship's company. It
happened that mine was unanimously chosen. The three cross-bars,
red, yellow, and green, were intended to stand for the three
islands, while the black shark lying across the bars was meant
to be typical of Tembinoka's ancestry. The King's line was not
lost in obscurity; he gave us almost embarrassing details of the
first of his forebears, who sprang from a liaison between a
beautiful lady and a shark. The drawings I made on the _Equator_
were taken to a firm in Sydney that did such work; they turned out
a couple of very gorgeous flags that were quite to the taste of his
majesty. The house flag had a white crown over the head of the
shark (a little different shape from that on the island flag). I
chose for the motto "I bite triply," which referred not only to the
King's three islands, but to the three rows of teeth peculiar to the
shark.
Louis has been playing chess with the captain, who has not played
before for many years. I have been making wreaths of artificial flowers
for presents to the natives. I bought in Sydney several large boxes
of old-fashioned artificial flowers, perfectly fresh and pretty, also
green leaves unwired. For one pound and three shillings I got enough
for twenty full wreaths and eighteen more to be worked up with coloured
feathers. I do not think the natives will enjoy getting the wreaths any
more than I enjoy making them.[3] (One of our sailors appeared on duty
in a garland and necklace of orange-peel.) The sea is smooth and the
weather perfect.
[3] Very few flowers are found in the atolls, wherefore the natives,
who use wreaths for every festive occasion, are forced to devise
all sorts of makeshifts for the garlands that are considered almost
necessities. I have seen only two flowers that seem indigenous to
the true atoll, one quite insignificant, that looked like the
blossom of the male _papaia_, the other a sort of "spider lily";
both these were of a whitish colour, and, as far as I could see,
were worn only by people of position, and not by the common herd,
who contented themselves with imitations made from some part of the
cocoanut-tree. I wish those artistic souls, who so scorned my
purchases at the milliner's, could have seen with what frantic joy
they were received. Many times staid matrons burst into sudden
hysterical weeping when I offered them my wreaths, while kings,
chiefs, and even white traders intrigued to gain one of these
coveted possessions.
_22d._--The weather still lovely. Saw a small island called Curtis
Island, and at half past ten sighted Sunday Island. The captain kindly
took us very close in that we might get a good photograph. A puff
of smoke appeared on the horizon, supposed to be a steamer; great
excitement. I ran to write letters and found Mr. Henderson doing the
same; but alas, the ship, which looked like a man-of-war, moved away
from us nearer to the island, and it was too late to venture to chase
her, so our letters must wait. Sunday is the island where an American
family once took up their residence, remaining until it began to blow
up. Some settlers have lately gone there. Lloyd reminds me that this
was the place Louis and he once proposed to try and get possession of,
and I refused to hear of the plan because of the volcano and the hordes
of rats that infest the place. I repented when I saw it, and my heart
is now set upon owning an island. It grows warmer daily, and I hope
soon to be able to put away my shoes and stockings.[4] Mr. Henderson is
looking for an island about the existence of which there is some doubt.
Lloyd tells me that Mr. Low, the artist in New York, once said that he
had a friend who had actually been upon this very island.
[4] As all mine and most of Louis's were burned, except what I had
on my feet, I wished to preserve these for such times as it might
seem necessary to make a civilised appearance.
_26th._--I have not been able to put away my shoes and stockings, for
the sun disappeared soon after my last entry; for several days we have
been knocking about in a gale of wind with almost continuous rain. The
air is thick and breathless, hot, and at the same time chill. To my
discomfort, I caught a cold and developed a smart attack of rheumatism.
The captain has also been unfortunate; he, too, took cold, and in
addition had a heavy door slam upon one of his fingers, crushing
the nail. Some time ago a cinder blew into one of his eyes, causing
an inflammation, and now the other is as bad in consequence of the
poisonous fumes of our involuntary firework display.
To-day we came to anchor off Savage Island, or Nuieue, having on board
some eight natives of the place who were being returned home by the
company. It was pleasant to see the happy, excited faces of the "boys"
as we drew near their native land. They were all dressed for the
occasion in new clothes, every man with a pair of strong new boots on
his feet. A couple of dandies wore velvet smoking-caps with tassels,
and red sashes. It is a smaller and lighter-coloured race than we
have been accustomed to, their features and expression reminding one
of pretty, sweet-faced Chinamen. Before we had anchored, neatly made
outriggers were circling round the ship and cries of greeting arose
from all sides. When the steam-whistle sounded a joyful answering shout
ran along the beach. No women came out to us. To them a ship is tapu,
but numbers of small boys accompanied the men. Soon they were all
wandering over the ship, marvelling at the strange sights, but also
cannily ready to make an honest or dishonest penny. I bought a couple
of sticks of sugar-cane for a stick of tobacco and ordered a hat from
a man for which I am to pay two shillings. The man had a hat with him
but charged four shillings for it on account of its trimming, a small
bit of red flannel laid round the crown. I also bought a couple of
little model canoes (one for Tin Jack) for two shillings.
Our sailors are "black fellows," some from the New Hebrides, some from
the Solomons and various other places. They seem to find it easier to
speak to one another in English than in their own tongues; I heard one
say: "I wouldn't like to go across that water in that fellow's canoe."
The men from Nuieue looked at those black fellows with great curiosity
and asked in what island did they find men like that. One of these
black sailors has his name signed as Sally Day. To-day I heard one of
the others politely call him Sarah. Savage Island is a high-low island;
that is, it is a coral atoll with a soil, raised more or less unevenly,
some two hundred feet above the sea-level. It produces copra, bananas,
cotton, breadfruit, _bêche-de-mer_, and fungus, and is governed by a
king with the assistance of four chiefs and four sub-chiefs. Food trees
and plants are carefully cultivated, and the people have the reputation
of being industrious and willing to work. Captain Henry wished to take
a little girl home to his wife, but was not allowed, it being against
the law that a female should leave the island.
In at least one of the villages of Nuieue a singular custom prevails.
One day in the year is fixed as a day of judgment. Every soul, man,
woman, and child, gathers together on the village green. Votes are
cast for a whipper, and a jury, composed of half Christians and half
heathens, is chosen. One by one the people come forward and publicly
confess their sins, while the jury fixes the punishment, which is
whipping or an equivalent fine. The fines may be paid in goods of
any sort, the value of the article offered being rated at the price
originally paid for it. For instance, a man fined a dollar may bring
the unwearable remains of a tattered hat that cost him a dollar the
year before. The elected officials do not escape punishment by virtue
of their position. After the jury has confessed and fixed its own
punishment, the whipper must do the same, and, if whipping is his doom,
must proceed to whip himself. So, next day, every soul starts afresh
with consciences sponged clean, ready for a new record of sins. The
confessions seem to be genuine and sometimes cause the utmost surprise
and consternation to those who have been sinned against.
The desire to own an island is still burning in my breast. In this
neighbourhood, nearer Samoa, is just the island I want, owned,
unfortunately, by a man in Tahiti. It is called Nassau and is said to
be uninhabited.
Last night an immense rat ran over me in bed, and Mr. Henderson had the
same unpleasant experience. In the hold of the _Janet_ are a number
of pure white rats with red eyes, which appeared of themselves quite
mysteriously. The captain will not allow them to be harmed, which
I think is very nice and sentimental of him. It was amusing to see
our dog's perplexity when we came to anchor, and he put his head out
of a port-hole to have a look at Auckland. His very tail expressed
alarmed surprise. Our second steward (a white man) is in a state of
wild delight. He took his "billet" under the head steward from a
romantic hope of seeing Samoa, of which he had once read a description
in a newspaper. Every little while I hear his voice, quivering with
excitement: "What do you think of it, Mrs. Stevens?" One moment he is
thrusting sugar-cane into my hand: "Taste it, Mrs. Stevens, it's sugar
stick! I never saw it before!" and the next is: "_Cocoanut! cocoanut!_
It's _green cocoanut_, Mrs. Stevens; I never saw it before in my life!"
It is of no use to tell him that it is all an old story to me; he
hears nothing but babbles on with shining eyes. I have just overheard
this from a white stoker who had also never been in the tropics before:
"He's been and swindled me, that native! There's nothing inside this
green cocoanut but some kind of water."
Mr. Henderson has just told us as a secret that our next island will be
Upolu, Samoa, and we are now as wildly excited as the second steward.
On Wednesday afternoon, at four o'clock, we shall arrive at Apia, and
the next morning, at break of day, off we fly to Vailima. As we were
discussing the subject, the captain called out that there was a white
rat in his cabin and he wished to catch and tame it, so I ran to help
him. It was under his bed, he said, and the loveliest rat in the world.
As he was dilating on its beauty, out it flashed, jumping on him and
rebounding against my breast like a fluff of white cotton wool. The
captain laughed and screamed with shrill, hysterical cries, in which I
joined, while the loveliest rat in the world scurried away.
_27th._--The weather really abominable, so cold that I have had to put
on a flannel bodice. Tin Jack and Lloyd went to the station last night
and returned with the white trader, a thin, pallid man, with a large,
hooked nose and soft, frightened brown eyes. For very dullness I was
about to go to sleep, when Mr. Henderson ran up, crying: "Sail ho!"
Sure enough, there was a large vessel wallowing in the great seas.
Captain Henry thought her an American driven in by the heavy weather.
Round the point of the island the breakers were rising, he said, some
forty feet high. While we were watching the strange craft she turned
about and sailed away, to our great disappointment, no doubt having
only come up to take her bearings. After I had closed my diary last
night Mr. Henderson got out the chart and showed us his own islands and
the supposed location of Victoria Island which he is looking for. I
offered to toss him for the latter, to which he agreed. Louis threw up
a piece of money and I won. I have yet, however, to find Victoria.
Nuieue has not yet recovered from the effects of last year's hurricane,
and we shall not get many delicacies here. There are no ripe cocoanuts,
few bananas, and no breadfruit. Some one said that I could get spring
onions. "How do they grow them?" I asked; meaning did they sow seeds or
plant sets. "On the graves," was the rather startling answer.
[Illustration: _The "Janet Nichol" with ship's company_]
Last night Mr. Henderson pulled off a rat's tail. He thought to pull
the rat from a hole from which the tail protruded, but the tail came
off, and the rat ran away. The captain tells me that there is generally
a plague of flies in Nuieue. It is too cold for them now, but usually
when the natives come out in their canoes their backs, especially,
are black with flies. Some one has sent me a basket of bananas almost
too sweet and rich; also some excellent oranges. I have mended the
bellows of our camera, where it has been eaten by cockroaches, with
sticking-plaster.
_28th._--Steamed round to the other side of the island to the
missionary station, carrying with us the trader and a young Irishman
named Hicks; also a native woman and a boy. Here, to our surprise, we
saw the vessel we had sighted and lost; she proved to be the _John
Williams_.
We watched her plunging to and fro, now close under the cliffs, now
skirting the _Janet_, now fetching our hearts in our mouths as she
stayed, and forereached in staying, till you would have thought she
had leaves on her jib-boom. We actually got up the camera to take a
photograph of the expected shipwreck. We were told afterward that it
was only Captain Turpie showing off his seamanship.
The _John Williams_ is a missionary ship on her way to Samoa with an
English missionary and his family and a German lady who is going to
open a school for Samoan girls. Mr. Lawes is the Nuieue missionary,
a dark, foreign-looking man. We heard nothing but good of him from
traders and natives.
We landed and climbed up the part path, part stairs of the cliff,
our boys already trailing down it with copra sacks, the ship's boat
slamming away at the jetty with a couple of black fellows holding on
to it like grim death. The missionary natives were ranged in bodies on
the path to meet us. First the men pressed forward, giggling, and shook
hands; then the women, whose many-coloured garments we had remarked
even from the ship, glowing on the cliff like a bank of flowers. The
children who followed after pretended alarm and fled, but laughed as
they ran. I was some distance from Louis, who has written the following
in my diary[5] "They closed in on me like a sea; I was in the close
embrace of half a dozen outstretched hands, with smiling faces all
round me, and a perfect song of salutation going up. From the sirens
I escaped by means of a present of tobacco, which was the cause of my
ruin, later on, when Lloyd and I went out to photograph. A bevy of
girls followed, hugging and embracing me, and going through my pockets.
It was the nearest thing to an ugly sight, and still it was pretty;
there was no jeering, no roughness, they fawned upon and robbed me
like well-behaved and healthy children with a favourite uncle. My own
cut tobacco and my papers they respected; but a little while after, on
making a cigarette, I found my match-box gone. There was small doubt
in my mind as to the culprit; a certain plump little maid, more like a
Hawaiian, with a coquettish cast of face and carriage of the head, and
conspicuous by a splendid red flower stuck in her ear, had visited me
with a particular thoroughness. I demanded my matches. She shook her
head at first; and then from some unknown receptacle produced my box,
drew out a single match, replaced the box, and with a subtle smile and
considerable grace of demeanour, something like a courtly hostess,
passed me on the match!"
[5] He used this afterward, but as it seems to belong to my diary I
thought I might let it stand.
Tin Jack was shown some spies who were taking names of women who had,
against rules, been aboard ship. They will all be fined to-morrow.
Levity of conduct, they tell us, is not allowed and is met by fines. I
should imagine the public funds to be in a plethoric condition.
Before I knew where I was the trader had swept me up to the mission
house, well built of coral, with a high, wide roof of cocoanut thatch
beautifully braided together and tied with cocoanut sennit. In an
inner room we found the passengers from the _John Williams_, Mr. and
Mrs. Marriott and the German teacher. The Marriotts had with them the
loveliest little twins imaginable, two years old, and almost exactly
alike. Louis and Lloyd disappeared at once in search of photographs.
The king, who seems to be liked and respected, was off in the bush,
so they were disappointed in his likeness. After a reasonable time
of worship before the twins, I started to follow the photographers,
the trader conducting me, the _John Williams_ party and Mr. Lawes
(the resident missionary) following. We passed a cow, a bull, and
two horses, strange sights for these latitudes. There were a great
many flowers blooming in the underbrush--jasmine, the flamboyant, and
a yellow blossom like a "four-o'clock"--and where a space had been
cleared grass was growing. There is no running water, but through small
fissures in the rock brackish water is found at the depth of seven
fathoms. I was told of one great fissure, into which stone steps had
been cut, where a subterranean stream gushes out in a waterfall.
The trader, who had already sold us three tappa (native bark-cloth)
table-cloths at an exorbitant price, clung to me pertinaciously,
taking me into his house, where he showed me a mat he wished a pound
for, whereas it was worth but a couple of dollars. I refused to buy
it, whereupon he presented me with two small rather pretty mats. I
thought he owed them to me, so I accepted them without compunction. The
young Irishman, who had followed us in, opened his box and took out an
immense yellow shell necklace, a cocoa-shell basket, and a strange,
very heavy, carefully shaped stone, which the natives use in fighting.
All these articles he insisted on my accepting. I was greatly pleased
with the fighting stone. The trader promised to get me a couple of
"peace sticks" when we return to his side of the island. These are used
by the women when they think a fight has lasted long enough. They rush
between the combatants, waving their "peace sticks," and the affair
ends. These peace sticks are made of dark, almost black ironwood, are
about three feet long, shaped like spears, and ornamented, where the
hand naturally holds them, with cocoa-fibre sennit and yellow bird
feathers. The feathers looked to be the same as were used in Hawaii
for the royal cloaks. As I write Tin Jack appears in a hat of Nuieue
manufacture, braided pandanus, in shape an exact reproduction of the
civilised high silk hat, and indescribably comic.
Returning to the mission house, we stopped at the king's newly built
palace for a piece of ironwood that I wanted to mend the camera stand.
The queen, a pretty, smiling, young woman, stood in the doorway
directing us where to look. Arriving at the house, I examined the
house dog's ear, and found he was suffering from canker. Louis and I,
together, remembered the remedy for him, and told it to Mr. Lawes. I
begged that Louis and Lloyd might see the twins. The little fairies
were heavy-eyed from the knocking about and the close air of the
_John Williams_. Each had had a convulsion during the last two days.
I thought they looked rather too much like little angels. I tried,
without success, to make our party refuse Mrs. Lawes's invitation
to high tea. It did seem very hard; month after month passes in the
most deadly monotony. Suddenly here are two ships at her door, each,
incredible fact, with white women on board, and she has almost no
time to speak to either, and in an hour or two they are gone. Poor
Mrs. Lawes had wild eyes when the two sets of passengers and most of
the officers gathered in a great circle round her board. It was an
excellent meal, which I should have thoroughly enjoyed had I not felt
like a cannibal and that I was eating Mrs. Lawes. But this it is to
be a missionary's wife. I am sure she must have had a nervous fever
after we were gone. She found a moment to bewail her fate to Louis;
if only we had come piecemeal, as it were, and not all at once, like
a waterspout, she would have been so happy. We shall leave behind us
only a memory of hurry and flurry and confusion worse confounded. While
we were at table the _John Williams_ ran so close inshore that we were
frightened, and Mr. Marriott very anxious, as all his worldly goods
were on board. The _John Williams_ left Sydney on Friday the 11th,
the same day we did, and now we meet here and possibly may meet again
in Samoa. We had just finished our meal when the steam-whistle blew
for us, and away we all trooped to the boat. The _John Williams_ was
leaving also.
We had some trade stuff to be landed at the other side of the island.
There Lloyd went ashore and got my peace sticks for which he paid two
shillings the pair. A great many natives came aboard, among the rest
the handsome sister and daughter of a chief. I gave them both a wreath,
to their great pride and joy. Tin Jack dressed up in his wig and
whiskers and false nose. The natives at first were much alarmed and
some of the women inclined to cry.
_29th._--Squally all night, but this morning the sun has come out and
it really looks hopeful. The captain has been working all day until
four o'clock at my device for mending the camera with Nuieue ironwood.
I hardly slept last night for the heavy rolling and pitching of the
_Janet_. A black cat has appeared, brought on board from Nuieue. It was
proposed to have a rat hunt with the Auckland dog. I meanly intended to
inform the captain, but I need not have troubled myself, for when a rat
was shown to the dog he nearly went into a fit with terror. I have all
my things ready packed to go on shore at Samoa.
_30th._--Passed Tutuila in the morning. Almost despair of reaching
Upolu before to-morrow, owing to an adverse current, but make it just
after sundown. We ran along Upolu for a couple of hours, the scenery
enchanting; abrupt mountains, not so high as in Tahiti or Hawaii,
nor so strangely awful as the Marquesan highlands, but with a great
beauty of outline and colour, the thick jungle looking from the deck of
the ship like soft green moss. Through the glass I could see a high,
narrow waterfall drop into the sea. Breaths of the land breeze began
to come out to us, intoxicating with the odours of the earth, of
growing trees, sweet flowers and fruits, and dominating all, the clean,
wholesome smell of breadfruit baking in hot stones. Soon masts of ships
began to show, and the smoke of Apia. The signal-flag was carried up to
the foretopmast and laboriously tied on by a black boy, when the pilot
came quickly on board. It was not quite dark, but we thought it better
to dine on the _Janet_, though we were burning to get on shore. While
we were eating, people began to arrive in boats to offer their welcome
to Samoa. Louis and I started off, leaving Lloyd to follow in the
ship's boat. It was a dream-like thing to find oneself walking along
Apia beach, shaking hands and passing _talofas_ on every side. We spent
the evening on shore and, after ordering horses for the early morning,
went to bed tired out.
_May 1st._--Woke at six to hear the horses coming for us. When last we
rode out to Vailima the road was but a bridle-path almost closed in by
the bush. We can now ride two abreast, or even three, if we like. Tin
Jack was much delighted to see pineapples growing wild, and bewailed
his mistake in having settled on a low island. Lloyd rode ahead to a
native village on the road with a packet of sweeties for some little
girls who used to dance for us when we lived in the bush near by. We
found Lloyd waiting for us; only one of the little girls was about.
After we left the village the road plunged into the forest. The tall,
liana-draped trees, carrying ferns in the forks of their branches, cast
a grateful shade, and we rode slowly, to enjoy all to the utmost.
There was a crowd of black boys at Vailima cutting down and burning
trees and brush. I believe they are runaways from the German
plantations. There are a good many noble trees, of great height and
girth, left standing. A little, wooden house has been run up, from the
balcony of which we could see the masts of the _Janet_ as she lay at
anchor and past her far out over the sea.
It is odd how little is known of Samoa, even by its inhabitants. In
Sydney I asked particulars concerning a turbine wheel in case I should
want one in Vailima. The man I consulted assured me it would be quite
useless to attempt such a thing, as a friend of his just from Samoa,
who had lived there a long time, told him there was not a tree of any
size in Upolu, and none whatever of hardwood. On the contrary, in the
bush are numbers of magnificent timber-trees, very hard and beautiful
in colour. One in particular, a light yellow, is very like satinwood
and another seems to be a sort of mahogany. We took photographs, and
after a couple of hours reluctantly tore ourselves away.
A native man, an old friend, stopped us on the way back to Apia,
holding the bridles of our horses that we should not escape him. A
woman we were acquainted with passed; she turned and stopped, cooing
like a dove, every limb and feature expressing surprise and delight.
After an inordinate luncheon I opened some boxes we had left here and
took out various articles suitable for presents. At the main store we
found our bush friend and his little daughter waiting for us with a
large basket of oranges. Louis gave the child a shilling and told her
to choose from the shelves a piece of cotton print. She was dazzled
by the magnificence of the offer, and after long deliberation chose
the ugliest piece of the lot. I gave an old woman a print gown, upon
which she purred like a cat and kissed my hands. Our old friend Sitione
(wounded in the late war) came up and spoke to us, looking very ill,
his arm bandaged and in a sling. The doctor tells Louis he thinks very
badly of the arm and fears he must amputate it.[6] There was also
something wrong with Sitione's eye which was bandaged.
[6] Sitione was suffering from the effects of an old wound got in
the last wars, some of the bones in his shoulder being shattered;
they were finally removed, and Sitione recovered entirely with only
a scar or two to show where the doctor had operated. Sitione, I was
told, received this wound while doing a very brave and dashing act.
During one of the many Samoan wars his party had fallen back a short
distance, leaving an open space between them and the enemy; in this
opening Sitione perceived that a friend of his had fallen and was
unable to arise. The enemy were already rushing forward to take the
man's head, as is their custom, when Sitione bounded back in the
face of their guns, caught up his friend, and brought him into
safety with a hail of bullets whizzing after him, and a shattered
shoulder.
* * * * *
A little boy brought a basket of chilli peppers I wanted to carry on
board with me. There were no vegetables to be had, as the Chinaman's
garden, the only one in Samoa, had been washed away by a freshet. At
half past three we returned to the _Janet_, where Doctor Steubel, the
German consul-general, Baron von Pritzfritz, captain of the German
man-of-war lying in Apia harbour, and another German whose name I
forget paid us a visit. We talked a few moments and drank a glass of
champagne; then the whistle sounded, our friends bade us good-bye, and
at about four we steamed out. Our little house in the bush was visible
to the naked eye from the deck of the steamer.