arrive at the distinction of being an "old man," one must
be either very rich or have performed some prodigy of
valour in war time. Accompanied by the Hawaiian, we
wandered along to the Council House. The missionary
looked extremely like a mixture of native and Chinese--a
large, imposing man with a long, thin, white moustache
and thick, grey hair. As we sat outside in the circle
surrounding the Council House, conversing with the
Hawaiian, it occurred to me that I might buy one of the
cocoanut beaded girdles worn by most of the women. The
Hawaiian turned to one of them and asked what she would
take for her girdle; a dollar was the answer; at that I
handed a half dollar and two quarters to the young man
who, saying that it was too much, gave me back half the
money. "They sell them for two fish-hooks," he said,
"and this is simply extortion; however, as she has seen
the money she will do her best to get it, so you might
as well give her the half dollar." The exchange was made,
and after a moment's confabulation with a crowd of her
neighbours the woman demanded the other half dollar. At
this the Hawaiian asked for the piece of money she had,
took it, and gave back the girdle. In an instant the
whole place was in an uproar. Men bounded up with
furious gestures; the old men in the Council House
shouted with threatening yells, while the Hawaiian,
leaping to his feet, his eyes flashing like a cat's in
the dark, defied them all. Fearful that harm might come
to him after we were gone, I begged him to let me give
the people whatever they might ask for, but he would not
hear of it, and matters were the worse for my offer, as
the people evidently understood it had been made.
Finally, leaving the crowd in a state of ferment, we
walked away with the Hawaiian to his very pleasant house,
he entertaining us on the way with a list of the laws
made that day by the "old men." They were as follows:
"Dancing, one dollar fine; concealed weapons, five
dollars; murder, fifteen; stealing, twenty-five, and
telling a lie, fifty dollars." Pretty soon the crowd
began surging round us; there was more furious talk,
the Hawaiian looking very fine as he walked toward the
mass of people, shaking his fists and, I am bound to
say, interlarding his language with English oaths. When
he had forced the crowd back by, I really think, the
fire of his eye, he laughed in their faces contemptuously
and turned to me translating the meaning of the scene.
The "old men" had made another law, against him, placing
him under tapu so that he could neither trade nor be
traded with. I felt very miserable at being the innocent
cause of so much trouble. He said he did not care a rush
and meant to leave the island anyway. He had married a
native of Maraki, bringing her home to visit her people,
with whom she had proposed they should stop, but now, he
said, she was as eager to go as he was. When we left he
presented us with a girdle that he had somehow got hold
of and his wife gave me a young fowl. I, very fortunately,
had a handsome wreath of flowers on my hat which I took
off and gave the wife. It was amusing to watch the dandy
of the village, the haughty and insolent fat young man who
had been too languid to see us before, trying to keep all
speculation out of his eyes when I passed over the wreath.
He could not do it. The red imitation currants held his
gaze like fish-hooks.
We sailed away quite gaily from Maraki, fell into a calm,
and had to turn and come back again, so had yet another day,
and all together four, before we really got away. All the
time, more or less, we were overrun by the traders, who came
to beg drink and buy and sell.
We have now seen the South Sea "bad man" of the story-books,
Peter Grant. He always comes with "Little Peter," a kindly,
simple lad who has been on the island since he was thirteen
and speaks excellent English with the native tossing and
eyebrow lifting. (Little Peter died from poisoning some years
after; it was supposed to be a murder.) Peter Grant is the
most hideous ruffian I have ever beheld. The skin of his
face has the quality of a burn scar and is crossed with
wrinkles in places where no other human being has wrinkles.
His forehead is narrow and retreating, his eyes very light,
with a strange scaly look, not a pair in size, colour, or
movement, and set too close together in a large, gaunt face.
His nose, hooked at the end until it almost touches his upper
lip, is unusually bony and is bent over to the left as though
from a blow. His coarse-lipped, stupid mouth is creased with
slashes like cuts. One of his unpleasant peculiarities is what
Louis calls "crow's-feet between the eyes."
The next to the last day at Maraki Lloyd and I went ashore with
the captain, who had, as he said, "business to attend to" with
a missionary. (The Hawaiian missionary who was to travel in the
_Morning Star_ with our dear Maka of Butaritari.) I knew the
business had something to do with a tapu put upon Peter Grant
some six months ago, but that a concerted attack was to be made
upon the old missionary I did not suspect or I should never have
gone. We were met by my friend the young Hawaiian, who
accompanied us to the missionaries' house. There the best seat
was offered me, all being received with dignified hospitality
as they dropped in, one horror after another. Little Peter was
appointed interpreter. The missionary was charged, first, with
having instigated the natives to tapu Peter Grant. It was
supposed he denied this, but in reality he did not. Head and
shoulders above the rest he sat, a fine, massive figure, with
impenetrable Chinese eyes, master of the situation. I only
noticed once any sign of perturbation in him; that was when the
head of the "old men" was brought in to be questioned. The
missionary made a quick attempt to put the old man on his guard,
but was instantly checked by a trader, who leaped to his feet
and shook his fist in the missionary's face, ordering him to
be silent. The missionary smiled contemptuously, but a thick
sweat gathered upon his face and neck, his hands trembled
slightly, and his great chest rose and fell, slowly and heavily.
Feeling that to gaze upon him was an indelicacy, though I was
doing so in sympathy and admiration, I made a slight movement to
turn away; as though he knew my thought, the missionary suddenly
looked me in the eyes with a charming smile, fanned me a moment
with a fan that lay beside him, then handed me the fan with a bow.
Fortunately, the attempt to warn the "old man" had been enough,
for he seemed idiotic in his apparent endeavours to understand
what was wanted of him. The charge against the missionary then
changed to theft. He was said to have stolen a murdered man's
property. In answer to that he said: "Then place the affair in
the hands of either the first man-of-war that comes to the group
or the _Morning Star_," which is daily expected. The traders all
cried out with fury at the mention of the _Morning Star_, and,
all speaking at once, charged him with instigating the natives
to all sorts of evil when he should be setting them a good example.
For the first time he retorted, saying that the missionaries came
only to try to make the people better, and that the only difficulty
was the wickedness of the white men. I am sorry to say that I got
the impression that there was something in danger of being
discovered which would have been to the disadvantage of the
missionary, but not exactly what the traders were looking for.
They were too stupid to see that, and were forced to come to a
pause, having gained nothing. Both Lloyd and I had a distressed
feeling that we might be confounded with their party in the mind
of the missionary, but he reassured us with his eyes, and, pushing
aside those in his way, shook hands with Lloyd and then with me.
I held his hand and pressed it and said all that eyes and smile
could manage.
As we went out of the house the missionary's wife made me a present
of a fowl. The Hawaiian joined us as we passed his place and his
wife ran out with another fowl. I had made up a little parcel for
her, a red comb, a bead necklace, a bottle of fine scent, and a
striped blue-and-white summer jersey, with a large silk handkerchief
for her husband. The next day they, with their little daughter, came
to pay us a visit on board, fetching with them three young fowls and
a very fine, beautiful mat of a pattern I had not seen before. Louis
was greatly pleased with my friends and promised to send the man his
photograph. When he said good-bye, to our surprise he asked for
Louis's card, which was a piece of civilisation we were not prepared
for. We have touched at no island where there has not been at least
one person we were sorry to leave and should be glad to meet again,
though this was the only place where these friends were foreign to
the land.
* * * * *
_18th._--Very hot weather. Our sails are still up, and one of the
boats hanging over the side has its sail also set. It looks very odd.
[Illustration: _Speak House, Island of Maraki_]
_19th._--Jaluit, the German seat of government for the Marshalls. We
could see the commissioner's house, painted a terra-cotta red, looking
very pretty under the green trees. Went on shore, a blazing hot day. We
were all dressed up for the occasion, Louis with his best trousers,
yellow silk socks of a very odd shape, knitted by his mother for a
parting present, dirty white canvas shoes, and a white linen coat from
the trade room that could not be buttoned because of its curious fit.
It was hoped, however, that a gold watch and chain might cover all
deficiencies. I wore a blue linen native dress, entirely concealed
by a long black lace cloak, and on my head a black turban with a
spotted veil. Our feet were certainly the weak point, my stockings
being red and my shoes cut in ribbons by the coral. Not having gloves,
I put on all my rings which flashed bravely in the sun. On board
ship our appearance caused a decided sensation and was considered
most respectable, and reflecting great credit on the _Janet_. The
commissioner received us at his door, offered us wine, and while we
were drinking it in came Captain Brandeis,[19] a slender, sallow
man with a small head and the most extraordinary eyes of glittering
blackness which seemed to shrink from meeting one's gaze and yet to
challenge it with a nervous defiance. He was pale, and I thought he
was prepared for an unpleasant meeting with Louis; that wore off very
quickly, and the two were soon deep in conversation, I talking twaddle
with the commissioner that Louis might have the captain alone. Louis is
fascinated by the captain and I do not wonder; but his eye is too wild,
he is too nervous, and his nose is not to be depended on--a weak and
emotional nose. A man, I should say, capable of the most heroic deeds,
sometimes preternaturally wise, and sometimes proportionately foolish;
a born adventurer, but never a successful one.
[19] A political refugee from Samoa.
The commissioner showed me the "garden," an acre or so of high-island
plants grown in foreign soil brought in vessels. The commissioner's
room was decorated with trophies of native arms, armour, etc. He
promised to have a native sailing chart made for Louis. These charts
are very curious things, indeed, made of sticks, some curved, some
straight, caught here and there by a small yellow cowry. The cowries
represent islands, the sticks both currents and winds and days'
sailing. The distances between the islands have nothing to do with
miles, but with hours only. These charts are very little used now,
only one old chief knowing how to make them, but the time was when
each young chief must pass his examination in the charts, knowing
them by heart, as they were never taken to sea but kept at home for
reference and continual study. We lunched with the commissioner and,
the steam-whistle calling us soon after, we went on board to start
immediately for Majuro.
_20th._--At Majuro early in the morning, a pearl of atolls. The lagoon,
large and round, but not so large that we cannot distinctly follow the
coastline. At the entrance it is broken into the most enchanting small
islets, all very green and soft, the lagoon clear and in colour like a
chrysoprase. Mr. Henderson offered us a little house on the windward
side, so we took our mats and blankets and a lantern with us in the
boat. The house was the old "lookout" consisting of a single room with
latticework running along two sides of the wall under the roof; this
lattice served for windows. The door had a padlock so we could lock it
as we came and went.
[Illustration: _White trader and his wife "Topsy," Majuro Island_]
I had taken my paints with me and made a little portrait of a native
girl called "Topsy" by her white husband. She was a very small, very
thin creature, greatly given to dress. She seemed to live with several
other women in a sort of boatbuilders' shed, where I would always find
her, her thick hair shining with oil and carefully braided, a different
head-dress for a different hour--her keys hanging below her rows of
necklaces, busily employed at something or other; sometimes it was a
necklace she was stringing on shreds of pandanus leaves, sometimes a
new print gown she was cutting out with a most capable, businesslike
air; or she might be feeding her monkey ("_monkaia_," she called it)
or her gentle-eyed dog; or, most interesting task of all, sorting her
possessions into order. She had two pretty large camphor-wood chests
quite filled up with cotton prints, coloured handkerchiefs, and various
accessories of the toilet. She dressed for the portrait in a gown of
cheese-cloth drawn in at the waist by a white cotton belt edged with
blue and white; the yoke of the bodice and the sleeves were trimmed
to match, and the hem of the skirt was marked with a black braid. Her
hair, smoothly drawn back over her little rabbit head, was ornamented
by two bands worked in a design with beads, and her necklaces were
innumerable. On one arm she proudly showed me the word Majuro tattooed
and on the other, Topsy. It seems that she was a castaway from another
island, every other soul in the canoe being lost. She was absolutely
ignorant, and when something was said about her heart, gravely assured
us that she had no heart, being solid meat all through. Topsy sat for
her portrait most conscientiously as though it were a photograph, not
moving a hair's breadth, nor hardly winking. After each sitting she
returned to exactly the same position. I tried in vain to make her take
it more easily; when I talked to her (she knew half a dozen words of
English) she responded with stiff lips, trying to speak without moving
them. I took her a wreath which delighted her, and just before we left
I came across a red silk bodice with a smocked yoke and embroidered
cuffs; just the thing, I felt, for Topsy. The captain, Louis, and Lloyd
were with me when I gave it to her. She instantly slipped off her upper
garments, showing a very pretty little figure, and we all together
robed her in the bodice. Topsy is quite a great lady with her female
attendants, living in her boat-house, sleeping on her mat beside her
two chests with her dog, and that rich possession the "_monkaia_." Some
one the captain knew took a large monkey to Savage Island, but the
people would not allow it to remain; it was, they said, derogatory to
their dignity.
There are broad, well-kept walks on Majuro, and to cross the island
to our cabin was like passing through a palm-house. When somebody
remembered it, fresh palm toddy[20] was brought to us in the early
morning, and once tea. Louis slept on shore with me one or two nights,
and then, as it rained a good deal, it was judged better for him to
remain on board. The next night I slept alone. At about two in the
morning I waked with the consciousness that some one was in the room
besides myself. I peered about without moving and saw two native men
who moved into the moonlight so I could see them distinctly. I said,
"Who's there? What do you want? Get away with you!" in the gruffest
voice I could assume, and after a few moments' hesitation, they made
off. One evening, while Louis still slept in the lookout, quite late,
the room became filled with a peculiar and pleasant fragrance. For some
time we could not make it out, but it finally occurred to us that it
was the scent of pandanus nut. Some native, overcome by curiosity, must
have crept to the house so softly that we did not hear him, but the
pandanus he had been chewing betrayed him. As they all seemed to think
that I should not stop alone so far away, Lloyd came over and slept on
Louis's mat. Some of the pandanus nuts here I like very much; they are
juicy and of fragrant, tart flavour like a good apple.
[20] Fresh palm toddy tastes like sweet champagne and is very
wholesome; sour or fermented toddy is quite another thing.
One day while I was talking to Topsy at her door, the monkey being
fastened by a long, light chain to a tree close by, a girl fell down
in a fit. Her head struck a woman's lap, but the woman hastily thrust
her off so that she lay, half smothering, face down, in the sand.
She sniffed, and moaned, and clicked her teeth together, but neither
frothed at the mouth, nor protruded her tongue, as I supposed people
did in fits. Not a soul moved to help her, but "_monkaia_" leaped on
her head like a demon and began biting and plucking at her hair and
face. I tore him off with difficulty, the men and women standing by
quite helpless with laughter. I had to threaten a woman with physical
violence before she would drag the girl away from the monkey while
I held the brute. The next morning, while I was painting at Topsy's
portrait, the girl who had the fit sat on the floor beside me watching
the process. My bottle of oil and a basket of coral just given me were
standing between the legs of the easel. Suddenly the girl lurched
forward, upsetting the bottle of oil, and had a fit with her face in
the basket of coral. The instinct of saving property brought Topsy to
my aid this time, however, and together we dragged the girl to a safer
position.
One afternoon I asked the name of a particularly bright-looking girl
who came to visit the ship. "Neel," was the reply. "How did she get
that name?" I asked. "Oh, it came in this way: She was a sharp little
child, and some white man said she was sharp as a needle, so they
called her needle." Neel is the nearest they come to pronouncing it. I
was told that Neel was a capital mimic and actress. I made an offering
of a wreath and she agreed to give me an example of her skill if
all the white men went away. First, she said (Johnny, a half-caste,
interpreting), she would represent a well-known native woman, with an
impediment in her speech, on a visit to a neighbour; immediately her
round, fat face twisted itself into a thousand wrinkles, and her thick,
protruding lips became pinched and thin, on one side lifted like a
harelip. She spoke like a person with a cleft palate, very garrulously,
making polite inquiries about different members of the family she
was supposed to visit, but never waiting for an answer. After this
impersonation she assumed a prim air and, with a dry, nipping precision
of speech, and neat little persuasive gestures, gave us a bit of an
English missionary's sermon. The voice was a man's voice, and the
English accent in speaking the native words perfect. Had I not been
aware that the girl was speaking, I should have felt certain I could
pick out the man by his face; I knew it, and his figure, and his
umbrella.
I am told they go in for "devil work" here; they call it "bu-bu,"
which reminds one of the negro word. When their old witch women (they
are always old) wish to lure a vessel to destruction they run up and
down the beach shouting their incantations, waving, as they run, a
long stick with a red rag on the end. A man whose vessel was wrecked
on these islands told me that as the ship neared the rock where they
struck they could distinctly see an old woman rushing along the beach
waving her red rag.
A Mr. R---- told Lloyd that in New Ireland he had had a similar
experience to that of Tom Day. A man had attacked him, and he had said
to the bystanders: "I'll give an axe for that man's head." The next
morning he discovered the head stuck on his gate-post. He said he had
often bought victims set apart to be eaten for ten sticks of tobacco.
If he paid up honourably, the natives were honourable in return, and
never after molested his man.
One evening I stopped at Mr. M----'s to wait while some one went on
board for my key, which I had forgotten. Tin Jack, who was there,
promptly presented me with a fine piece of staghorn coral belonging to
our host, following up the coral with presents of elaborately worked
mats, some of which he gave in his own name and some in Mr. M----'s,
until he had made me the embarrassed recipient of four. The captain,
who dropped in, was also requested to make choice of a pair of the
best. Poor Mr. M----, feeling that it would be more graceful to give
his own presents, then offered me a curious fish preserved in a bottle
which Mr. Hird, much to my distress, scornfully refused on my behalf as
a present "unfit for a lady."
The Marshalls seem a very damp, rainy group of islands, but, in
consequence, breadfruit grows on most of them, and bananas on many.
We had expected to fill up with copra at Majuro, but measles has been
ravaging the islands. The King himself, whom we had wished greatly to
see, old Jebberk, lay dying and tapued to whites. Two other Kings came
to visit us on the vessel, both very fine, intelligent-looking men. One
was dressed in a mat breech-clout and a comical red shirt or jacket,
and had his hair done up on the top of his head Japanese fashion. The
other wore a red-and-blue-figured petticoat, very full at the waist,
where it was gathered in with native cord. Around his neck he had a
pink shell necklace, and his hair was done in the same high knot as
affected by the first King. We had finished luncheon when the last
king came, so he had his alone spread at one corner of the table. I
gave him a wreath, of the best, for his queen; he admired it greatly,
and examined it over and over. Finally he turned to me saying, "What
you want?" pointing to the wreath. He meant to ask what would I like
for a return present. I said "Nothing," which was a mistake, afterward
cleverly rectified by Louis. The King asked through an interpreter how
long it would be before the _Janet_ sailed, as all his things were at
his own village, and he wanted to get some mats for me. Louis replied
that we were sailing almost immediately but that when we returned we
would be most happy to receive his present. This proved satisfactory,
and the King was put at his ease.
[Illustration: _Kaibuke--one of the kings of Majuro_]
_24th._--Left Majuro.
_26th._--Again at Jaluit. Went to see the commissioner, where we found
our island charts awaiting us. Louis and the commissioner and Captain
Brandeis tried to make out the names of the islands by comparing the
charts with our European map, but failed; a man who had been thirty
years in the islands was consulted, and afterward a native, but still
they were baffled. It was finally settled that the thirty-year resident
should see the maker of the charts (now absent) and get a complete key
to be sent to Samoa. Lloyd bought some German beer, which is excellent,
and I bought two jars of sweeties, a couple of Pleasant Island baskets,
several pieces of tortoise-shell, and some abominable sausages. The
commissioner gave me two shells and Captain Brandeis gave me a lovely
one, also a black mother-of-pearl shell, such as the Gilbert Islanders
use for trade.
Left the same day, towing out a schooner.
_27th._--Arrived at Namorik. Louis went on shore and met a wicked old
man who afterward appeared in the "Beach of Falesa."
_28th._--First thing in the morning at Ebon; anchored in the passage
nearly opposite the wreck of the _Hazeltine_, American schooner. Left
early in the afternoon.
_July 1st._--Arrived Apiang, lay outside. Louis ill. Captain Tierney
came off in a canoe. No copra. The missionaries in power and a general
tapu. On to Tarawa.
_3d._--Aranuka, one of Tembinoka's islands. Louis still ill. He was
lying in his bunk when the King and his people came on board. A
pleasant-faced man, who, with the rest, was shaking hands with me,
asked for Louis. I said he was ill, whereupon he demanded to be taken
at once to the sick man. I guessed that he was a medicine-man. Louis
said he stood beside his bed, with the gently soothing, insinuating,
professional manner of the European practitioner, asking his symptoms
and very anxious to know if there was a "dog-star" in Samoa.
A little later a soft hand tapped me on the shoulder; I turned--it was
the King, Tembinoka himself, smiling and holding out both hands to me.
He looked much better and was greatly concerned at Louis being ill. Mr.
Henderson is going to take the King's boat back to Apemama for him with
his harem and court.