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diff --git a/old/54499-0.txt b/old/54499-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 1d226e3..0000000 --- a/old/54499-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,11381 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's In The Strange South Seas, by Beatrice Grimshaw - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: In The Strange South Seas - With Photographs - -Author: Beatrice Grimshaw - -Release Date: April 7, 2017 [EBook #54499] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE STRANGE SOUTH SEAS *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - - -IN THE STRANGE SOUTH SEAS - -By Beatrice Grimshaw - -Author Of “From Fiji To The Cannibal Islands,” Etc. - -London: Hutchinson & Co. Paternoster Row - -1907 - - -[Illustration: 0001] - - -[Illustration: 0008] - - -[Illustration: 0009] - - -[Illustration: 0010] - - - -IN THE STRANGE SOUTH SEAS - - - In desire of many marvels over sea, - - When the new made tropic city sweats and roars, - - I have sailed with young Ulysses from the quay, - - Till the anchor rattled down on stranger shores. - - Kipling. - - -MOST men have their loves, happy or hopeless, among the countries of -the earth. There are words in the atlas that ring like trumpet calls -to the ear of many a stay-at-home in grey northern cities--names of -mountains, rivers, islands, that tramp across the map to the sound of -swinging music played by their own gay syllables, that summon, and lure, -and sadden the man who listens to their fifing, as the music of marching -regiments grips at the heart of the girl who loves a soldier. - -They call, they call, they call--through the long March mornings, when -the road that leads to everywhere is growing white and dry--through -restless summer nights, when one sits awake at the window to see the -stars turn grey with the dawn--in the warm midday, when one hurries -across the city bridge to a crowded eating-house, and the glittering -masts far away down the river must never be looked at as one passes. Of -a misty autumn evening, when steamers creeping up to seaport towns send -long cries across the water, one here, and another there, will stir -uneasily in his chair by the fire, and shut his ears against the -insistent call.... Why should he listen, he who may never answer? - -_(Yokohama, the Golden Gate, Cape Horn, the Rio Grande, Agra, Delhi, -Benares, Bombay, the Amazon, the Andes, the South Sea Islands, Victoria -Nyanza, the Pyramids, the Nile, Lhassa, Damascus, Singapore, the -tundras, the prairies, trade-winds, tropics, and the Line--can’t you -hear us calling?)_ - -Love is not stronger than that call--let sweetheartless girls left -alone, and the man of cities who has loved the woman of the wandering -foot, give bitter witness. Death is not stronger--those who follow the -call must defy him over and over again. Pride of country, love of home, -delight in well-known faces and kindly hearts that understand, the -ease of the old and well-tried ways, the prick of ordinary ambitions -hungering for the showy prizes that every one may see--these are but as -dead leaves blown before the wind, when the far-off countries cry across -the seas. Not one in a hundred may answer the call; yet never think, you -who suppose that love and avarice and the lust of battle sum up all the -great passions of the world, that scores out of every hundred Englishmen -have not heard it, all the same. “In the heart of every man, a poet has -died young”; and in the heart of almost every Briton, a wanderer once -has lived. If this were not so, the greatest empire of the world had -never been. - -So, to The Man Who Could Not Go, I address this book--to the elderly, -white-waistcoated city magnate, grave autocrat of his clerkly kingdom -(never lie to me, sir--what was your favourite reading in the sixties, -and why were you a very fair pistol shot, right up to the time when you -were made junior manager?)--to the serious family solicitor, enjoying -his father’s good old practice and house, and counting among the -furnishings of the latter, a shelf of Marryats, Mayne Reids, and Michael -Scotts, wonderfully free of dust--to the comfortable clergyman, immersed -in parish cares, who has the oddest fancy at times for standing on -dock-heads, and sniffing up odours of rope and tar--to all of you, the -army of the brave, unwilling, more or less resigned Left Behinds, who -have forgotten years ago, or who will never, forget while spiring masts -stand thick against blue skies, and keen salt winds wake madness in the -brain--to all I say: Greeting! and may the tale of another’s happier -chance send, from the fluttering pages of a book, a breath of the -far-off lands and the calling sea. - - - - -CHAPTER I - -_Fate and Her Parcels--How It All came true--The First South Sea -Island--Coleridge and the Tropics--The Spell of the Island Scents--What -happens to Travellers--Days in Dreamland--A Torchlight Market--The -Enchanted Fei._ - -LIKE an idle messenger-boy, Fate takes a long while about her rounds, -but she will get through with them and deliver all her parcels, if you -give her time enough. - -She has so much business that she confuses orders very often, and you -are never sure of getting what you sent for. Still, you will certainly -get something, if you wait, and it may even be the thing you demanded. - -The morning she called at my door, with a very full basket, she had -already been to my neighbours, and given them, in a big assortment of -goods--a failure on the Stock Exchange, a hunting accident, and a broken -engagement. What they had ordered was a seat in Parliament, and a winter -at Monte Carlo, with anything good that might come in in the way of -new-laid motor-cars. But Fate was, as usual, in a hurry, and she never -changes any goods, once delivered. So they had to take them in. - -I had given up expecting her when her knock came to my door, because -my order had been sent in some years ago, and so far had remained -unacknowledged. But she fairly emptied her basket into my hands, once -she was admitted. - -“Goods all right, and none the worse for keeping; couldn’t find time to -see to you before, I’ve been so busy attending to an order from Japan -for a new army and a gross of assorted victories,” she panted. “Had to -serve the Czar of Russia with a lot of old defeats I’ve had lying by -since the Crimea, instead of the new empire he sent for; and can’t get -time to fill more than half the German Emperor’s order for fireworks. -You private people are lucky to get anything at all. Count the goods, -please--one journey round the world, two-and-a-half years of mixed -adventures, a hundred South Sea Islands, threescore new friends, first -quality, one large package luck. That’s all, I think--sign the book, -and let me go; I’ve got seven attacks of appendicitis, a foreclosed -mortgage, two lawsuits, and a divorce, to deliver in this square before -lunch.” - -So, like the fairy tales, “it all came true,” and one bright winter -afternoon a Cunard liner bore me away from the streets and shops and -drab-coloured, huddled houses of Liverpool, down the muddy Mersey--off -round the world. - -There were thousands of people on the quay, come to see the famous boat -away, for it was Saturday afternoon, and the town took holiday. They had -a few hours of freedom before them--then, the airless office room, -the stuffy shop, the ledger and the copying-press, and the clattering -typewriter, the grim window giving on the dark wet street, for six long -days again. Next year, and the year after,-just the office, the frowsy -lodging, the tram car, the pen in the strong young fingers, the desk to -stoop the broad young shoulders, the life foreseen, eventless, grey for -ever and for ever. And I was going round the world. - -It is three weeks later, and the big “A and A” steamer is ploughing -along in the midst of a marvellous dazzle of diamond-spangled, pale-blue -tropic sea and scorching, pale-blue tropic sky. The passengers, in cool -white suits and dresses, are clustered together on the promenade deck, -looking eagerly over the port railing, while the captain, telescope in -hand, points out something lying only a mile away, and says: “That’s -Tiki-Hau, so now you’ve seen a South Sea Island.” - -We are on our way to Tahiti, a twelve-day run from San Francisco, and -are not stopping anywhere, but as Tiki-Hau is the only glimpse of land -we shall get until we cast anchor in Papeete, every one wants to look -at it. Not one of us has ever seen a South Sea Island, and, we are all -eager to realise this little fragment of our rainbow-coloured childish -dreams. - -Is it as good as we dreamed it? we ask ourselves and each other. The -verdict, given unanimously, is: “Yes--but not the same.” - -Here is no high green palmy peak, overhanging a waveless sea, with -sparkling waterfalls dashing down from crag to crag, like the coloured -illustrations in our old school prize books. There are, indeed, just -such islands in the Pacific, we are told--many hundreds of them--but -there are still more of the kind we are now looking at, which is not -half so often mentioned. All South Sea Islands are either high or low; -the high island, with lofty mountains and dark, rich volcanic soil, is -the familiar island of the picture book, while the low type, composed -only of coral, is the variety to which Tiki-Hau belongs. - -[Illustration: 0030] - -What we can see of the island, however, is enough to set at rest any -tendency to comparison. None of us want anything better; none of us -think there can be anything better, among the wonders that the Great -South Seas yet hold in store. - -Tiki-Hau is an island of the atoll or ring-shaped type, a splendid -circle of seventy and eighty-foot palms, enclosing an inner lagoon clear -and still as glass. Outside the windy palms, a dazzling beach runs down -to the open sea all round the island--a beach that is like nothing the -travellers ever have seen before, for it is made of powdered coral, -and is as white as salt, as white as starch, as white as the hackneyed -snow-simile itself can paint it. All the island--the whole great ring, -many miles in length--is coral too, white, branching, flowering coral -under water, white, broken-coral gravel above, with here and there a -thin skin of earth collected by a century or two of falling palm-leaves -and ocean waste. Outside the magic ring the sea-waves tumble, fresh and -blue, upon-the cloud-white sand; within, the still lagoon glows like -a basin of molten emerald. Above, the enormous palm-trees swing their -twenty-foot plumes of gaudy yellow-green to the rush of warm trade-wind, -high in the burning sky. A glorious picture indeed--but one before which -the painter well might tremble. - -Here, for the first time, we begin to understand why pictures -of tropical scenes are so few and so unsatisfactory. Paint! what -combination of coloured grease that ever came out of a box could hope to -suggest the pale green fire of those palm-tree plumes, the jewel-blaze -of the lagoon, the sapphire flame of the sea, the aching, blinding -whitenesses of spray and sand? Who could paint the sun that is literally -flashing back from the light dresses of the passengers, making of every -separate person a distinct conflagration, and darting lightning rays out -of the officers’ gold shoulder-straps and buttons? Does any dweller in -the dim grey North really know what light and colour are? did we -know, with our tinselled April days, and gentle blue-and white August -afternoons, that we were so proud of once? Well, we know now; and, alas, -in the dim, prosaic years that are yet to come, we shall remember! - -The ship steams on, the atoll fades away in the distance, and once more -comes the changeless level of long blue empty sea. But we have seen a -coral island, and the picture is ours for ever. - -Flying-fish, skimming and “skittering” over the surface of the waves, we -have all become used to now. The first day we met them was a memorable -one, all the same--they were so exactly what one had paid one’s money -to see. Sharks have disappointed us so far; never a sight of the famous -“black triangular fin” have we yet enjoyed, and the passengers have an -idea that something ought to be said to the steamship company about it. -Nor have the equatorial sunsets quite kept up their stage character. -Books of travel, and sea literature in general, have led us to expect -that the sun, in the tropics, should go out at sunset as though Poseidon -had hold of the switch down below the water line, and turned off the -light the instant sun and horizon met. - - ... The sun’s rim dips, the stars rush out. - - At one stride comes the dark. - -They don’t, Mr. Coleridge, and it doesn’t, and you never were there to -see for yourself, or you would not have talked beautiful nonsense -and misled countless travellers of all ages who did see, but who have -refused to look, save through your illustrious spectacles, ever since. -Even on the equator, the sun gives one time to dress for dinner (if the -toilet is not a very elaborate one) while it is setting, and after it -has set. So dies one more illusion. Yet it can easily be spared, in the -midst of a thousand wild dreams and strange imaginings, realised to the -very utmost, as ours are to be ere long. - -Tahiti comes at last. In the pearly light of a sunrise pure as a dawn -of earliest Eden, we glide into the shadow of a tall, rose-painted peak, -spiring eight thousand feet up into heaven, and anchor in the midst of -a glassy mirror of violet sea. Papeëte, the loveliest, sweetest, and -wickedest town of all the wide South Seas, lies before us--just a -sparkle of red roofs looking out from under a coverlet of thick foliage, -a long brown wharf and a many-coloured crowd. Across the water steals -a faint strange perfume, unlike anything I have ever smelled -before--heavy, sweet, penetrating, suggestive.... It is cocoanut oil -scented with the white tieré flower, and never, from Tahiti to Samoa, -from Raratonga to Fiji, Yavau, Manihiki, or Erromanga, will the South -Sea traveller lose the odour of it again. Cocoanut oil, and the nutty, -heavy smell of copra (dried cocoanut kernel) are charms that can raise -in an instant for any old island wanderer, in the farthest corners of -the earth, the glowing vision of the wonderful South Sea world. - - ... Smells are surer than sounds or sights - - To make your heartstrings crack, - - They start those awful voices o’ nights - - That whisper: “Old man, come back!” - - -_(Old island wanderers in all parts of the world--settled down to -desks in the E.C. district--tramping through the December glare of Pitt -Street, Sydney, for “orders”--occupying a tranquil, well-bred billet, -and a set of red-tape harness, in the Foreign Office--do you smell the -tierê flower, and hear the crooning of the reef, and feel the rush of -the warm trade wind, and the touch of the sun-baked sand, under the utu -trees once more?)_ - -So I landed in Papeete, and found myself in the South Sea Islands at -last. - -All that afternoon, like “Tommy” in Barrie’s _Thrums_, I kept saying to -myself: “I’m here, I’m here!”... There was no mistake about Papeëte. It -was not disappointing or disillusioning, it was only more lifelike -than life, more fanciful than fancy, infinitely ahead of all past -imaginations. - -There were the waving palms of picture and story, laden with immense -clusters of nuts; there were the wonderful bananas, with broad green -leaves ten and twelve feet long, enshrouding bunches of fruit that -were each a good load for a man; there were the greenhouse flowers of -home--the costly rare stephanotis, tuberose, gardenia--climbing all over -the verandahs of the houses, and filling half-cultivated front gardens -with stacks and bouquets of bloom. And the dug-out canoes, made from a -single hollowed log supported by an outrigger, flitting about the glassy -lagoon like long-legged waterflies--and the gorgeous, flamboyant trees, -ablaze with vermilion flowers, roofing over the grassy roadway in -a series of gay triumphal arches--and above all, beyond all, the -fiery-gold sunlight, spilling cataracts of flame through the thickest -leafage, turning the flowers to white and red-hot coals, painting the -shadows under the houses in waves of ink, and bleaching the dust to -dazzling snow--how new, how vivid, how tropical it all was! - -The native population was out in full force to see the steamer come -in. So, indeed, were the white residents, in their freshest suits and -smartest muslins, but they met with small attention from the little band -of newcomers. - -It was the Tahitians themselves who claimed all our interest--the famous -race who had been so well liked by Captain Cook, who had seduced the men -of the _Bounty_ from allegiance to King George of England, a hundred -and sixteen years ago, who were known all the world over as the most -beautiful, the most amiable, and the most hospitable of all the South -Sea Islanders. - -Some of the passengers, I fancy, expected to see them coming down to the -shore clad in necklaces and fringes of leaves, eager to trade with -the newcomers and exchange large pearls and thick wedges of fine -tortoiseshell for knives, cloth, and beads.... Most of us were better -prepared, however, having heard a good deal about Papeëte, the Paris of -the South Seas, from the people of the steamer, and having realised, on -our own account, that a great deal of water might run under a bridge in -a hundred years, even here in the South Pacific. - -So the smartness of the native crowd surprised only a few, of whom I was -not one. On the contrary, I was surprised to find that here, in this -big island group, with its fortnightly steamer, its large “white” town, -and its bureaucratic French Government, some kind of a national dress -did really still exist. The Tahitian men were variously attired, some -in full suits of white, others in a shirt and a brief cotton kilt. The -women, however, all wore the same type of dress--a flowing nightdress of -cotton or muslin, usually pink, pale green, or yellow, and a neat small -sailor hat made in the islands, and commonly trimmed with a pretty -wreath of shells. Most of them wore their hair loose, to show off its -length and fineness--Tahitians have by far the most beautiful hair of -any island race--and not a few were shoeless, though nearly all had -smart parasols. The colour of the crowd was extremely various, for -Tahiti has more half and quarter castes than full-blooded natives--in -Papeete at all events. The darkest, however, were not more than -tea-coloured, and in most instances the features were really good. - -So much one gathered in the course of landing. Later on, during the few -days I spent in an hotel waiting for the Cook Island steamer--for, alas! -I was not staying in Tahiti--there was opportunity for something further -in the way of observation. But------ - -But------ It happens to every one in Tahiti, why should I be ashamed of -it? There was once a scientific man, who came to write a book, and took -notes and notes and notes--for two days and a half. Then, he thought he -would take a morning’s rest, and that is five years ago, and he has been -resting ever since, and they say in the stores that he has not bought so -much as a sheet of letter paper, or a penny bottle of ink, but that his -credit for cigars and ice, and things that go with both very well, and -for pyjamas to lounge about the back verandah in, and very cheap novels, -and silk-grass hammocks, is nearly run out in Papeete. There was a -Government official--perhaps it was two, or three, or sixty Government -officials--who came to Papeete very full of energy and ability, and very -much determined to work wonders in the sleepy little colony.... He, or -they, is, or are, never to be seen awake before three in the afternoon, -and his clerks have to type the signatures to his letters, because he -will not trouble to write his name; and their people think they died -years and years ago, because they have never carried out their intention -of telling some one to find some one else to send a message to say they -are alive. And there are a dozen or fourteen gentlemen who keep stores -in Papeete, and if you go in to buy things in the morning or afternoon -or evening, mayhap you will find the gentleman or his understudy asleep -behind the counter, but mayhap you will find the door shut, and the -proprietor away at breakfast, which takes him an hour, or lunch, which -takes from two hours to three, or dinner, which occupies him from six -till nine inclusive. After that, he may open again for a little while, -or he may not. - -Must I explain now what happened to me in Papeëte, or why I am not in -a position to add anything to the scientific or ethnological, or -geographic knowledge of the world, concerning the Society Islands in -general? - -A duty, obvious, immediate, and unperformed, is perhaps the best of all -spices to a dish of sweet laziness. And there is not on earth’s round -ball such a spot to be lazy in as pleasant Papeëte. One is never fairly -awake. It is dreamland--and what a happy dream! The golden light on -the still lagoon is surely the “fight that never was on sea nor -land”--before we sailed in under the purple peaks of Orohena. The -chanting of the coral reef far out at sea, unceasing, day and night, is -the song the sirens sang to strong Ulysses, in the dream dreamed for -all ages by the old Greek poet, long ago. The languorous voices of -the island women, sweet and low as the “wind of the western sea”--the -stillness of the island houses, where feet go bare upon the soundless -floors, and music waxes and wanes so softly now and then in whispering -songs or lightly swept piano keys, that it only blends with the long -mysterious murmur of the wind in the rustling palm trees, to lull the -senses into perfect rest--these, too, are of the world of dream. - -Something out of dreamland, also, is the little hotel where most of the -travellers stay--a rambling bungalow in a grass enclosure, overrun with -vivid flowers and splendid leafage. That the proprietress should welcome -her guests in a long lace and muslin nightgown-dress, her pretty brown -feet bare, and her flowing wavy hair crowned with a wreath of perfumed -gardenia and tuberose, seems quite a natural part of the dream; that the -chamber-maids should be beautiful island girls clad in the same garb, -and that they should sit in the drawing-room playing the piano and -singing wild melancholy island songs, like the sighing of the surf on -the shore, when they ought to be making beds or serving dinners, is also -“in the picture.” That the Chinese cook should do elaborate Parisian -cookery, and that the coffee and the curry and the bread (or at least -the bread-fruit) should be picked in the garden as required, and that -there should be no visible means of shutting the door of the bathroom, -which is very public, until a carpenter is called in, and that -L--------, the charming proprietress, should explain with a charming -smile: “Only the house been using it all this time,” to account -completely for the deficiency--all this belongs unmistakably to the -irresponsible dream-country. And when the warm tropic night drops down, -and one goes wandering in the moonlight, to see for the first time -the palm-tree plumes all glassy-silver under the radiant sky, flashing -magically as they tremble in the faint night wind, it is more than ever -the land of dream that is thus lit up in the soft clear dusk. So vivid -is the moonlight, that one can even see the scarlet colour of the -flamboyant flowers fallen in the dust, and distinguish the deep violet -and hyacinthine hues of the far-off mountain peaks across the bay.... -How, in such a place, can one waste the night in sleep? - -It is certainly not like any sort of waking life one has hitherto known, -to find that the market of Papeëte--one of the principal sights of -the place--is held on Sunday mornings before sunrise. One might have -supposed that such a supremely indolent people would scarcely choose the -most inconvenient hour of all the twenty-four for a general gathering. -But they do choose it, and the visitor who wants to see the market must -choose it also. - -L-------- calls me, herself, at some unearthly hour, not much after -four, and I get up and dress in the warm darkness. It is the hot season -at present and the air, night and day, is very like a hot bath, and not -far behind it in temperature. I have been loafing about the town during -the previous day in rather thin shoes, and my feet have been almost -blistered by the heat of the ground striking up through light soles, -so that I cannot walk very far, and am glad to find the market close at -hand. - -L--------, in a fresh muslin nightdress (she has something like fifty or -sixty of them), acts as guide. She has put a new coronet of flowers in -her hair, and before we reach the market she proceeds to dress me up -Tahiti fashion, with, long necklaces of sweet white blossoms round my -neck, falling all over my dress, and a heavy crown of closely woven -gardenias on my head, instead of my hat, which she removes, and politely -carries. She wants to pull my hair down as well, but in a temperature of -eighty degrees the idea does not sound tempting, so I decline to follow -Tahitian custom further. Besides, there is really no knowing where she -would stop! - -There is not yet a glimmer of daylight when we enter the market-place, -and flaring lamps and torches cast huge flickering shadows all over the -gay assembly. Fruit and fish for the most part are the wares--but such -fish, and such fruit! Where one would look at home for white and grey -turbot, pallid plaice, zinc-coloured herrings, here one may see the -most gorgeous shapes of gold and scarlet and green; of iridescent rose, -silver, orange; of blue, brilliant as a heap of tumbled sapphire, and -pearl as bright as the lining of a shell. Tahiti is famous for -its beautiful fish, and indeed these in the market look almost too -poetically lovely to eat. - -Then the fruit! bananas as big as cucumbers, as small as ladies’ fingers -(after which, indeed, this little sugar-sweet, variety is named), dark -red bananas, flavoured like a peach, large bloomy ones, tasting and -looking like custard within; smooth yellow ones, like those exported -to other countries, whither the daintier fruits will not safely -go--pineapple in rough-skinned heaps (one learns soon in Tahiti how to -eat a pineapple, and that is to peel it, cut it into largest possible -lumps, eat the latter undiminished even if they make you speechless, -and never, never, shoe the fruit)--oranges of several different kinds, -custard-apples, rose-apples, paw-paws, melons, avocado pears, guavas, -mangoes, and other fruits the name of which I have never heard--all -lying together in masses under the lamplight, costing not as many -halfpence to buy as at home they would cost shillings. - -The native beauties are here in a merry crowd, intent quite as much upon -enjoyment as on business. Scarcely one but wears a flower behind her -ear--and if you have ever been in the South Seas, you will know what -that pretty little signal means, but if you have not, why then I shall -not tell you--and all are so wreathed, and crowned, and necklaced with -woven blossoms, that the air is heavy with scent, and the market-place -looks as though the transformation scene of a pantomine were just about -to begin, with a full chorus of flower-decked nymphs appearing for the -dance. - -One exceedingly pretty girl, with a perfect cataract of black hair -overflowing her pale green gown, and a pair of sparkling dark eyes that -could never be matched outside the magic lines of Cancer and Capricorn, -is making and frying pancakes with something fruity, nature unknown, -inside them. She has half a dozen French officers about her, enjoying -breakfast and flirtation at the same time. Another, who is selling -a number of the oddest little parcels imaginable, made out of cut-up -joints of bamboo, carefully sealed, is doing a good trade among the -coloured and semi-coloured ladies. L-------- says she is selling -readymade sauces, to be eaten with fish or meat, and adds that she -herself will show me what Tahitian sauces are like later on, because -there is no one in the whole group fit to act as scullion to her in that -important matter--or words to the same effect. - -Strange-looking mountain men are here, dressed in shirt and kilt of -cotton cloth, patterned in flowers and leaves as big as soup-plates. The -former garment is a concession to Papeete--outside the town, the “pareo” - or kilt alone forms the Tahitian full-dress suit. These men have come -in to sell the “fei,” or wild banana, which is only found on the highest -and most perilous of the mountain precipices. To get it, the Tahitian -must climb where not even a goat would venture to go, and make his way -back, having secured the fruit, carrying a bunch that is a heavy load, -even on level ground. Many are the lives that have been lost gathering -the “fei,” but the Tahitian, like all islanders, is something of a -fatalist, and the death of one fruit gatherer never stops another from -going a-hunting in the very same place next day. - -There is something about the same “fei” that is worth noting. It is -one of the standing dishes of the islands--a cooking banana, large, and -well-flavoured when baked, but not so attractive on the whole as many -of the other kinds. The Tahitian, however, ascribes to this variety a -certain magic property, not unlike that of the fabled lotus. If you eat -of the “fei,” he says, especially if you eat freely of it, you will fall -under the spell. For ever, in its working, it binds you to Tahiti. You -may go away, and without any intention of returning, say goodbye to the -islands, and place many thousand miles of land and sea between yourself -and sweet Tahiti, saying to yourself that you and Papeëte have no more -to do with one another for ever.... Yet by-and-by--some day, one -knows not when; it may be soon, or it may be late, but it will surely -come--you will return to Tahiti. The spell of the fei will work, and -draw you back again. - -So the natives said, and I thought the fancy a pretty one, and wondered -whether it had really any connection with the lotus myth, and then -forgot all about it. - -That is three years ago, and since those days I have travelled the whole -world over, leaving Tahiti behind as one leaves a station passed long -ago on a railway journey, upon a line that one never expects to traverse -again. As I write, the snows of winter Britain lie thick outside my -window, and a sea of Arctic coldness breaks in freezing green and grey -upon a desolate shore. Nothing on earth seems farther away than-the -warm blue waves, and flowers that never fade, and shining coral sands of -Tahiti. But... there is a steamer running southward before long, and a -great sunny city on the other side of the world where the island boats -lie waiting at the quays. And one of those island boats, in a month or -two, will carry a passenger back to Tahiti--a passenger who ate of the -fei three years ago, and went away for ever, but on whom the spell of -the magic fruit has worked--after all. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -_The History of Tahiti--Drink and the Native--In the Old Wild Days--The -Simple and the Civilised Life--What an Island Town is like--The Lotos -Eaters--Cocoanuts and Courtesy--A Feast of Fat Things--The Orgy on the -Verandah--Schooners and Pearls--The Land of Tir-n’an-Oge._ - -ALTHOUGH I certainly did not use the few days of my stay in Tahiti -to the best advantage--although I saw none of the public buildings of -Papeëte, never set eyes on any of the officials of the place, and did -not collect any statistics worth mentioning, I gathered a few crude -facts of a useful kind, which are herewith offered as a sop to the -reader, who must be informed and improved, or know the reason why. (If -he would only go to Tahiti, that dear reader, whom, all travellers know -so well and fear so much! if he would just spend a week lying on the -coral beach, and strolling in the moonlight, and listening to native -songs, and feeding fat on native dainties--he would never want to be -informed of anything any more, and as to being improved... O Tahiti, -loveliest and least conventional of the siren countries of the dear -South Seas, can you lay your hand on your heart, and honestly declare -you are improving?) - -Tahiti was discovered, not by Captain Cook, as is rather commonly -supposed, but by Captain Wallis of H.M.S. _Dolphin_, in 1767. Captain -Wallis formally took possession of the group in the name of His Majesty -King George III., and Captain Cook, in the course of his different -visits to the islands, laid the foundations of all the civilisation -they afterwards acquired. Nevertheless, the islands are French property -to-day. There is nothing in the Pacific better worth owning than the -Society group, more fertile, more beautiful, more healthy, richer in -valuable tropical products--and the construction of the Panama Canal, -an event which has been foreseen for several generations, will obviously -add much to the importance of the islands. Because of these, and other -excellent reasons, Great Britain, acting on the principles by which her -colonial policy is commonly guided, allowed the Society Islands to -slip gradually into the hands of a power better able than herself to -appreciate their value, and the group, after thirty-seven years of -“protection,” was finally taken possession of by France, in the year -1880. The native Queen, Pômare IV. (Pomare being a dynastic name like -Cæsar, but, unlike the latter, applied to both sexes), was allowed to -retain her state and possessions under the French protectorate. Her -successor, King Pomare V., who succeeded in 1877 and died in 1891, only -reigned for three years. After the formal annexation he retained his -title of king, and much of his state, but the power was entirely in -French hands. Prince Hinoe, his heir, who would in the ordinary course -have occupied the throne, lives in a handsome European-built house near -Papeete, and enjoys a good pension, but is otherwise not distinguished -in any way from the ordinary Tahitian. - -Under French rule, the islands have done fairly well. There were at -first many regrettable disputes and troubles between opposing camps of -missionaries, but these have long since been made up. Commerce is -in rather a languishing state. The group exports copra, vanilla, -pearl-shell, and fruit, but the trade with America was so much on the -down-grade during the time of my visit, that steamers were leaving the -port with empty holds. The natives are well treated under the present -system; the liquor laws, however, are defective, and no Tahitian, -apparently, has any difficulty in obtaining as much strong spirits as -he wants and can pay for. The disastrous effects of such carelessness -as this need no mention to the reader who knows anything of darkskinned -races. For the benefit of the reader who does not, however, it may -be remarked that all colonial administrators agree concerning the bad -effects of intoxicants on coloured races of every kind. It matters not -at what end or part of the scale of colour the man may be--whether he -is a woolly-haired, baboon-jawed nigger from Central Africa, a grave, -intelligent, educated Maori of New Zealand, or a gentle child-like -native of Tahiti, barely café-au-lait as to colour--all the same, and -all the time, spirits are sure to convert him, temporarily, into -a raging beast, and, in the long run, to wipe out him and his kind -altogether. It is not a question of temperance principles or the -reverse, but merely a matter of common-sense policy, in dealing with -races which have shown themselves unable to withstand the effects of -the liquors that our hardier northern nations can use with comparative -safety. One may lay it down as a general principle that nothing with a -coloured skin on it can take, intoxicants in moderation--it is not at -all, or all in all, with the “native” when it comes to strong drinks. -Scientific folk would probably set down the comparative immunity of -the white races to the protection that lies behind them in the shape -of centuries of drinking ancestors. The coffee-coloured islander’s -great-grandparents did not know whisky, just as they never experienced -measles and other diseases, that do not usually kill the white, but -almost always put an end to the “man and brother.” Therefore, the -islander’s body has not, by inheritance, acquired those points of -constitution which enable the white to resist whisky and measles, and -other dangerous things; and when they touch him, he goes down at once. A -parallel may be found in the case of opium, which the white man, broadly -speaking, cannot take in moderation, although most of the yellow races -can. Europeans who once acquire a liking for the effects of opium will -generally die as miserable wrecks, in the course of a very few years. -A Chinaman, under similar circumstances, may, and often does, live to -a good old age, without taking any harm at all from his constant doses. -His ancestors have been opium takers, the Englishman’s have not. It is -the case of the islander and the spirits over again. - -After which digression, one has some way to come back to the fact that -the French Government does not prevent the Tahitian from drinking -gin nearly so effectively as it should, and that, in consequence, the -diminution of the native population receives a downward push that it -does not in the least require. In the Fijis, British rule keeps spirits -strictly away from all the natives, with the exception of the chiefs, -and something, at least, is thereby done to slacken the decline that -afflicts the people of almost every island in the Pacific. The Fijian -chiefs, as a rule, drink heavily, and do not commonly live long, thus -providing another argument in favour of restriction. - -The population of Tahiti is indeed much less than it should be. Captain -Cook’s estimates of native populations are now understood to have been -mistaken in many cases, owing to the fact that he calculated the entire -numbers from the density of occupation round the shores. As most Pacific -islands are inhabited about the coasts alone, the interior being often -unsuitable for cultivation, and too far removed from the fishing-grounds -to suit an indolent race, it can easily be understood that serious -errors would arise from such a method of estimate. The diminution, -therefore, since ancient times, is not quite so alarming as the first -writers on the Pacific--and, indeed, many who followed them--supposed -it to be. If the sums worked out by the travellers who visited Honolulu -in the sixties, or Tahiti a little later, had been correct, both of -these important groups would long since have been empty of all native -population. But the Hawaiian group has still a very fair number of -darkskinned people, while Tahiti, including all its islands, had a -population, according to the census of 1902, of over thirteen thousand, -one-eighth of whom are said to be French, and a smaller number Chinese -and other foreigners. - -Still, it cannot be said that this is a large, or even a fair population -for a group of islands covering 580 square miles, nor can it be denied -that the numbers of the Tahitians are steadily on the decrease. -The exact causes of the decline are disputed, as indeed they are in -connection with every other coloured race in the Pacific. European -diseases of a serious kind are extremely common in the group, and -consumption also is frequent. These are two obvious causes. Less easily -reckoned are the unnamed tendencies towards extinction that follow the -track of the white man through the lands of primitive peoples, all -over the world. There can be no doubt that the old life of the -Pacific--feasting, fighting, making love, and making murder: dressing in -a bunch of leaves, and living almost as completely without thought for -the morrow as the twittering parrakeets in the mango trees--suited the -constitution of the islander better than the life of to-day. - -It may have been bad for his spiritual development, and it certainly -was bad for any wandering white men who came, by necessity or choice, to -visit his far-away fastnesses. But he lived and flourished in those bad -days, whereas now he quietly and unostentatiously, and quite without any -rancour or regret, dies. - -Why? Old island residents will tell you that, even if every disease -brought by the white man were rooted out to-morrow, the native would -still diminish in numbers. He has done so in islands where the effects -of European diseases were comparatively slight. He does so in New -Zealand, where the Maori (the supposed ancestor of most of the island -peoples) is petted, cherished, and doctored to an amazing extent by the -ruling race, and yet persists in dying out, although he is not -affected by consumption or other evils to any serious extent. There are -undoubtedly other causes, and perhaps among them not the least is -the fact that, for most Pacific races, life, with the coming of -civilisation, has greatly lost its savour. - -It used to be amazingly lively in Tahiti, in the wild old days. Then, -the Tahitian did not know of white men’s luxuries--of tea and sugar and -tinned stuffs, lamps and kerosene, hideous calico shirts and gaudy -ties, muslin gowns and frilled petticoats for the women, “bits” to make -patchwork quilts with, and beds to put the quilts on, and matchwood -bungalows to put the beds in, and quart bottles of fiery gin to drink, -and coloured silk handkerchiefs to put away on a shelf, and creaking -shoes to lame oneself with on Sundays. Then, he did not let or sell his -land to some one in order to get cash to buy these desirable things; -nor did his womankind, for the same reason, adopt, almost as a national -profession, a mode of life to which the conventionalities forbid me to -give a name. Nor did the distractions of unlimited church-going turn -away his mind from the main business of life, which was undoubtedly that -of enjoyment. He had no money, and no goods, and did not want either. He -had no religion (to speak of) and desired that still less. All he had -to do was to secure a good time, and get up a fight now and then when -things in general began to turn slow. - -It must be said that the existence of the “Areoi,” a certain secret -society of old Tahiti, went far to minimise the risk of dullness. -The members formed a species of heathen “Hell-Fire Club,” and -they cultivated every crime known to civilisation, and a few which -civilisation has happily forgotten. Murder, theft, human sacrifices, -cannibalism, were among their usual practices, and the domestic -relationships of the Society (which was large and influential, and -included both sexes) are said to have been open to some criticism. They -were popular, however, for they studied music and the dance as fine -arts, and gave free entertainments to every one who cared to come. They -travelled from village to village, island to island, giving “shows” - wherever they went, and winning welcome and favour everywhere by the -brilliance and originality of their improprieties. They were as wicked -as they knew how, and as amusing, and as devilish, and as dazzling.... -How the young Tahitian lad, not yet tattooed, and considered of no -importance, must have reverenced and envied them! how he must have -imitated their pranks in the seclusion of the cocoanut groves, and -hummed over their songs, and longed for the time when he himself should -be big enough to run away from home, and go off with the delightful, -demoniacal, fascinating Areois! - -Then there was always a native king in Tahiti in those days, and a -number of big native chiefs, each one of whom had his own little court, -with all the exciting surroundings of a court which are never missing in -any part of the world, from Saxe-Niemandhausen to Patagonia. And there -were tribal fights from time to time, when property changed hands, and -war-spears were reddened, and a man might hunt his enemy in the dusk, -stealthy, soft-footed, with heart jumping in his breast, along the -shadowy borders of the lagoon.... Murder and mischief and fighting and -greed, pomp of savage courts and stir of savage ambitions, and the other -world that nobody knew or cared about, shut off by a barrier of seas -unexplored.... It was a life in which a man undoubtedly did live, a life -that kept him quick until he was dead. Does the decline of Pacific races -look less unaccountable now? - -In these days, the Tahitian is undoubtedly improved. He never was a -very “bad lot” all round, in spite of the Areois; but Civilisation, -of course, had to take him in hand once it was known he was there, for -Civilisation will not have loose ends or undusted corners in her -house, if she can help it. So the people of Tahiti were discovered, and -converted, and clothed, and taught, and they gave up being Areois, and -worshipping heathen gods, and going about without shirts and skirts, -and they went frequently to church, and supported their white pastors -generously, and began to trade with the Europeans, so that the latter -made much money. - -They are quite happy and uncomplaining, and manage to have a reasonably -good time in a quiet way, but they _will_ die out, and nobody can -prevent them. You see, they are rather bored, and when you are bored, -the answer to the question, “Is life worth living?” is, at the least, -debatable--to a Pacific Islander. - -I have written of this at some length, because, _mutatis mutandis_, it -applies to nearly all the island races. - -It is not only the Tahitian who looks back with wistful eyes to the -faded sunset of the bad old times, with all their savage gaudiness of -scarlet blood and golden licence, and languishes in the chill pale dawn -of the white man’s civilisation. It is the whole Pacific world, more or -less. The Simple Life in the raw original is not, by many a long league, -as simple and innocent as it is supposed to be, by those new and noisy -apostles of a return to Nature, who have never got nearer to the things -of the beginning than a week-end up the Thames--but, unsimple and -uninnocent as it is, it suits the coloured man better than anything -else. Would one, therefore, wish to put back the clock of time, -re-establish heathenism and cannibalism over all the Pacific, and see -Honolulu, Fiji, Samoa, with their towns and Government Houses, and -shops and roads and plantations, leap back to the condition of the still -uncivilised western islands, where no man’s life is safe, and the law of -might is the only law that is known? Hardly. There is no answer to the -problem, and no moral to be drawn from it either. But then, you do not -draw morals in the South Seas--they are not plentiful enough. - -The Society Islands--which were so named in compliment to the Royal -Society--lie between 16° and 18° south latitude, and 148° and 158° west -longitude. Tahiti itself is much the largest, the driveway round -this island being about ninety miles long. Huaheine, Raiatea, Murea, -Bora-Bora, and the small islands Taha’a and Maitea, are much less -important. The only town of the group is Papeëte. - -So much, for the serious-minded reader, already mentioned, who knows -most things beforehand, and likes his information cut-and-dried. The -commoner and more ignorant reader, I will assume, knows no more -about Tahiti than I did before I went, and therefore will be glad of -amplification. - -Sixteen degrees only from the equator is hot--very hot at times--and -does not allow of a really cool season, though the months between April -and October are slightly less warm than the others, and at night one may -sometimes need a blanket. Everything near the equator is a long way from -England, and everything on the south side of the line is a very long -way, and anything in the Pacific is so far off that it might almost as -well be in another star. Tahiti, therefore, is quite, as the Irish say, -“at the back of God-speed.” - -Perhaps that is where much of its charm lies. There is a fascination in -remoteness, hard to define, but not on that account less powerful. “So -far away!” is a word-spell that has charmed many a sail across the seas, -from the days of the seekers after the Golden Fleece till now. - -Papeëte was the first of the island towns that I saw, and it is so -typical an example of all, that one description may serve for many. - -Imagine, then, a long, one-sided street, always known in every group as -“the beach.” The reason is apparent--it really is a beach with -houses attached, rather than a street with a shore close at hand. The -stores--roomy, low, wood-built houses, largely composed of verandah--are -strung loosely down the length of the street. Flamboyant trees, as large -as English beeches, roof in the greater part of the long roadway with -a cool canopy of green, spangled by bunches of magnificent scarlet -flowers. Almost every house stands in a tangle of brilliant tropical -foliage, and the side streets that run off landwards here and there, are -more like Botanic Gardens with a few ornamental cottages let loose among -them, than prosaic pieces of a town--so richly does the flood of riotous -greenery foam up over low fence tops, and brim into unguarded drains and -hollows, so gorgeously do the red and white and golden flowers wreathe -tall verandah posts, and carpet ugly tin roofs with a kindly tapestry of -leaf, and bloom. Foot to foot and hand to hand with Nature stands man, -in these islands, let him but relax for a moment, and--there!--she has -him over the line!... Leave Papeëte alone for a couple of years, and you -would need an axe to find it, when you came back. - -There are a number of hotels in Papeëte--mostly of an indifferent sort, -and none too cheap--and there are several large cafés and restaurants, -run on lines entirely Parisian, and a crowd of smaller ones, many owned, -by Chinese, where the hard-up white may feed at a very small cost, -pleasantly enough, if he does not ask too many questions about the -origin and preparation of his food. There are three local newspapers, -and a military band plays in the afternoons, and there are clubs of all -kinds’ and not a little society, which--being society--is in its essence -bound to be uninteresting and flat, even here in the many-coloured South -Seas. But under all this, the native life flows on in its own way, and -the Tahitian takes his pleasure after his immemorial fashion, as quietly -and as lazily as he is allowed. I have spoken hitherto of only one side -of the main street. The other, which gives directly on the sea, belongs -to the Tahitian life of Tahiti. Here, a green slope of soft grass -stretches down to the greener waters of the sparkling lagoon: delicate -palms lean over the still sea-mirror, like beauties smiling into a -glass; flamboyant and frangipani trees drop crimson and creamy blooms -upon the grass; and, among the flowers, facing the sea and the ships and -the dreamy green lagoon, lie the natives, old and young. They wear the -lightest of cotton clothing, scarlet and rose and butter-cup yellow, and -white scented flowers are twisted in their hair. Fruits of many colours, -and roots and fish, lie beside them. They eat a good part of the day, -and their dogs, sleeping blissfully in the shade at their feet, wake up -and eat with them now and then. There is plenty for both--no one ever -goes short of food in Tahiti, where the pinch of cold and hunger, and -the burden of hard, unremitting, unholidayed work are alike unknown. -Sometimes the natives wander away to the river that flows through the -town, and take a bath in its cool waters; returning later to lounge, and -laze, and suck fruit, and dream, on the shores of the lagoon again. The -sound of the surf, droning all day long on the coral reef that bars the -inner lake of unruffled green from the outer ocean of windy blue, seems -to charm them into a soft half-sleep, through which, with open but -unseeing eyes, they watch the far-off creaming of the breakers in the -sun, and the flutter of huge velvet butterflies among the flowers, -and the brown canoes gliding like water-beetles about the tall-masted -schooners in the harbour. With sunset comes a cooling of the heated air, -and glowworm lights begin to twinkle through the translucent red walls -of the little native houses scattered here and there. It will soon be -dark now: after dark, there will be dancing and singing in the house; -later, the sleeping mats will be laid out, and with the moon and the -stars glimmering in through the walls upon their still brown faces, the -Tahitians will sleep.... So, in the sunset, with - - Dark faces, pale against the rosy flame, - - The mild-eyed melancholy lotus-eaters - -wander home. - -Only a flash in the long cinematograph of the wonderful track that -circles the globe, is Tahiti. I cannot tell of Murea, the marvellous -island that lies opposite Papeete, seven and a half miles away, because, -during the few days I spent in Tahiti, no boat was going there, and none -could be induced to go. So I had to look at Murea’s splintered towers -and spiring pinnacles, and wonderful purple goblin palaces, floating -high among the clouds, from the tantalising distance of Papeëte harbour. -Nor could I join some steamer friends in driving round the ninety-mile -roadway, as we had intended--stopping in native towns, and seeing -something of the inner life of the island--because no one in the capital -had any teams for hire just then, and nobody knew when there would be -any. Some of us went up the river to see Pierre Loti’s bathing pool, -and came back rather disappointed, and others drove out to the tomb -of Pômare V., three miles from the town. It was a pile of concrete and -stone, modelled after European fashions, and not especially interesting. - -One of the ladies of the party wandered off with me down the beach, -neither of us being interested in the resting-place of the defunct -Pomare--and here we found plenty of food for mind and body both. For was -not this a pandanus, or screw-pine, which we had read about, overhanging -the lagoon, with the quaintest mops of palmy foliage, set on long -broom-handles of boughs, and great fruits like pineapples hanging among -the leaves, and yellow and scarlet kernels lying thick on the sand -below--the tree itself perched up on tall bare wooden stilts formed -by the roots, and looking more like something from a comic scene in a -pantomime, than a real live piece of vegetation growing on an actual -shore? And were not these cocoanuts that lay all about the beach under -the leaning palms--nuts such as we had never seen before, big as a -horse’s head, and smooth green as to outside, but nuts all the same? - -[Illustration: 0055] - - -[Illustration: 0056] - -A native slipped silently from among the thick trees beside us--a -bronze-skinned youth of eighteen or nineteen, dressed only in a light -pareo or kilt of blue and white cotton. He stood with hands lightly -crossed on his breast, looking at us with the expression of infinite -kindliness and good-nature that is so characteristic of the Tahitian -race. We signed to him that we wanted to drink, and he smiled -comprehendingly, shook his head at the nuts on the ground, and lightly -sprang on to the bole of the palm beside us, which slanted a little -towards the sea. Up the trunk of that tree, which inclined so slightly -that one would not have thought a squirrel could have kept its footing -there, walked our native friend, holding on with his feet and hands, and -going as easily as a sailor on a Jacob’s ladder. Arrived in the crown -some seventy feet above, he threw down two or three nuts, and then -descended and husked them for us. - -[Illustration: 0062] - -Husking a cocoanut is one of the simplest-looking operations in -the world, but I have not yet seen the white man who could do it -effectively, though every native is apparently born with the trick. A -stick is sharply pointed at both ends, and one end is firmly set in the -ground. The nut is now taken in the hands, and struck with a hitting and -tearing movement combined, on the point of the stick, so as to split the -thick, intensely tough covering of dense coir fibre that protects the -nut, and rip the latter out. It comes forth white as ivory, about the -same shape and size as the brown old nuts that come by ship to England, -but much younger and more brittle, for only the smallest of the -old nuts, which are not wanted in the islands for copra-making, are -generally exported. A large knife is used to crack the top of the nut -all round, like an egg-shell, and the drink is ready, a draught of pure -water, slightly sweet and just a little aerated, if the nut has been -plucked at the right stage. There is no pleasanter or more refreshing -draught in the world, and it has not the least likeness to the “milk” - contained in the cocoanuts of commerce. No native would drink old nuts -such as the latter, for fear of illness, as they are considered both -unpleasant and unwholesome. Only half-grown nuts are used for drinking, -and even these will sometimes hold a couple of pints of liquid. The -water of the young cocoanut is food and drink in one, having much -nourishing matter held in solution. On many a long day of hot and -weary travel, during the years that followed, I had cause to bless the -refreshing and restoring powers of heaven’s best gift to man in the -tropics, the never-failing cocoanut. - -[Illustration: 0097] - -I will not insult the reader by telling him all the uses to which the -tree and its various products are put, because those are among the -things we have all learned at our first preparatory school; how the -natives in the cocoanut countries make hats and mats and houses, and -silver fish-servers and brocaded dressing-gowns, and glacé kid boots -with fourteen buttons (I think the list used to run somewhat after that -fashion--it is the spirit if not the letter)--all out of the simple -cocoanut tree; a piece of knowledge which, somehow or other, used to -make us feel vaguely virtuous and deserving, as if we had done it all -ourselves.... - -But all this time the youth is standing like a smiling bronze statue, -holding the great ivory cup in his hands, and waiting for us to drink. -We do so in turn, Ganymede carefully supporting the cup in his upcurved -hands, and tilting it with a fine regard for our needs, as the water -drops down in the nut like the tide on a sandy shore when the moon calls -back the sea. - -[Illustration: 0103] - -Then we take out purses, and want to pay Ganymede; but he will not be -paid, until it becomes plain to him that the greatest politeness lies in -yielding. He takes our franc, and disappears among the trees, to return -no more. But in a minute, out from the bush comes running the oddest -little figure, a very old, grey-bearded man, very gaily dressed in -a green shirt and a lilac pareo, and laden very heavily with ripe -pineapples. We guess him to be Ganymede’s father, and see that our guess -was right, when he drops the whole heap of fruit upon the ground at our -feet, smiling and bowing and murmuring incomprehensively over it, and -then begins to vanish like his son. - -“Here--stop!” calls my companion. “We don’t want to take your fruit -without buying it. Come back, please, come back!” - -The little old-gentleman trots back on his thin bare legs, recalled more -by the tone than the words, which he obviously does not understand, and -takes a hand of each of us in his own brown fingers. He shakes hands -with us gently and firmly, shaking his head negatively at the same time, -and then, like the romantic youths of Early Victorian novels, “turns, -and is immediately lost to view in the surrounding forest,” carrying the -honours of war, indubitably, with himself. - -“Well, they are real generous!” declares my American companion, as we go -back to the tomb. “By the way, Miss G--------, I guess you’d better not -sit down on that grass to wait for the rest. I wouldn’t, if I was you.” - -“Why not? it’s as dry as dust.” - -“Because the natives say it’s somehow or other--they didn’t, explain -how--infected with leprosy, and I guess they ought to know; there’s -plenty of it all over the Pacific---- I rather thought that would hit -you where you lived.” - -It did. I got up as quickly as a grasshopper in a hurry. Afterwards, on -a leper island thousands of miles away from Tahiti---- But that belongs -to another place. - -L--------, the ever-amiable, our half-caste landlady at the little -bungalow hotel, all overgrown with bougainvillea and stephanotis, was -grieved because we had seen nothing in the way of “sights,” and declared -her intention of giving a native dinner for us. - -[Illustration: 0070] - -It was not very native, but it was very amusing. It took place in the -verandah of the hotel, under a galaxy of Chinese lanterns, with an -admiring audience of natives crowding the whole roadway outside, and -climbing up the trees to look at us. This was principally because the -word had gone forth in Papeëte (which owns the finest gossip-market in -the South Seas) that the English and American visitors were going to -appear in native dress, and nobody knew quite how far they meant to -go--there being two or three sorts of costume which pass under that -classification. - -The variety which we selected, however, was not very sensational. The -ladies borrowed from L--------‘s inexhaustible store, draped themselves -in one or other of her flowing nightdress robes, let loose their hair, -and crowned themselves with twisted Tahitian corqnets of gardenia and -tuberose. A scarlet flower behind each ear completed the dress, and drew -forth delighted squeaks from the handmaidens of the hotel, and digs in -the ribs from L--------, who was nearly out of her mind with excitement -and enjoyment. Shoes were retained, contrary to L--------‘s entreaties, -but corsets she would not permit, nor would she allow a hairpin or -hair-ribbon among the party. The men guests wore white drill suits -with a native pareo, scarlet or yellow, tied round the waist. It was -a gay-looking party, on the whole, and the populace of Tahiti seemed to -enjoy the sight. - -[Illustration: 0080] - -The dinner was served at a table, but most of the dishes were on green -leaves instead of plates, and L-------- begged us, almost with tears in -her eyes, to eat the native dainties with our fingers, as they tasted -better that way. Little gold-fish, baked and served with cocoanut sauce, -were among the items on the menu: sucking-pig, cooked in a hole in the -ground, fat little river crayfish, breadfruit baked and served hot, with -(I regret to say) European butter, native puddings made of banana and -breadfruit, and the famous raw fish. Some of the guests would not touch -the latter, but the rest of us thought it no worse than raw oysters, and -sampled it, with much enjoyment. I give the receipt, for the benefit of -any one who may care to try it. Take any good white fish, cut it up into -pieces about two inches long, and place the latter, raw, in lime-juice -squeezed from fresh limes, or lemon-juice, if limes are not to be had. -Let the fish steep for half a day, and serve it cold, with cocoanut -sauce, the receipt for which is as follows:--Grate down the meat of a -large cocoanut, and pour a small cup of sea-water over it. Leave it for -three or four hours, and then strain several times through muslin (the -fine brown fibre off young cocoanut shoots is a correct material, but -the reader may not have a cocoanut in his back garden). The water should -at last come out as thick and opaque as cream. - -This is the true “milk of the cocoanut” about which one so often hears. -It is of immemorial antiquity in the South Seas. - -Captain Cook mentions it in his _Voyages_, and describes the cocoanut -shells full of it, that were given to every man at a feast, in which to -dip his food. When used as a sauce for meat or fish, one or two fresh -red peppers from the nearest pepper bush are cut up and put in. Chili -pepper, judiciously used, is a fair substitute for the latter. The sauce -is also used for many native puddings and sweet dishes, in which case it -is made with fresh water and the pepper is left out. As a fish sauce it -is unsurpassed, and may be recommended to gourmands as a new sensation. -It should be served in bowls of brown cocoanut shell. - -[Illustration: 0091] - -Breadfruit some of us tasted for the first time at this dinner. It was -universally liked, though a few maintained that it resembled potato more -than bread. I found it very like the latter, with a suggestion of floury -cracknel biscuit. It is most satisfying and nourishing. One never, -in island travels, feels the want of fresh bread when breadfruit is -available. L-------- had cooked it native fashion, peeled and baked -on hot stones in a pit in the ground. It is a good-sized fruit in its -natural state, about as large as a medium hothouse melon, and bright -green in colour. The skin is divided into lizard-like lozenges, and the -surface is very rough. Whether it is indigenous to the islands or not, -I cannot say, but it was there when Cook came, and it grows wild very -freely, providing an immense store of natural food. - -Taro we also had, baked native style. It is a plant in use over almost -all the Pacific, very easily cultivated and rapidly producing immense -bluish-coloured roots, which look like mottled soap when cooked and -served. It is extremely dense and heavy, but pleasant to most tastes. -The white taro is a less common kind, somewhat lighter. - -The mangoes that were served with the meal (among many other fruits) -were of a variety that is generally supposed to be the finest in the -world. No mango is so large, so sweet, or so fine in grain, as the mango -of Tahiti, and none has less of the turpentine flavour that is so much -disliked by newcomers to tropical countries. It is a commonplace of the -islands that a mango can only be eaten with comfort in a bath, and many -of the guests that evening would not have been sorry for a chance to -put the precept into practice, after struggling with one or two mangoes, -which were, of course, too solid to be sucked, and much too juicy -and sticky not to smear the hands and the face of the consumers -disastrously. - -L-------- gave us many French dishes with our native dinner, to suit all -tastes, and gratify her own love of fine cookery, but these would be -of little interest to recount. I cannot forget, however, how this -true artiste of the kitchen described the menu she had planned, on the -morning of the entertainment. She sat down beside me on a sofa to tell -the wondrous tale, and, as she recited dish after dish, her voice rose -higher and higher, and her great black eyes burned, and she seized me -by the arm and almost hugged me in her excitement. When she came to the -savouries, tears of genuine emotion rose in her eyes, and at the end -of the whole long list, her feelings overcame her like a flood, and, -gasping out--“Beignets d’ananas à la Papeete; glaces. Vénus, en Cythère; -fromage----” she cast herself bodily into my arms and sobbed with -delight. She was fully fifteen stone, and the weather was exceedingly -warm, but I admired her artistic fervour too much to tell her to sit -up, and stop crying over my clean muslin (as I should have liked to do), -because it seemed to me that L-------- was really a true artiste in her -own way, and almost worthy to rank, in the history of the kitchen, with -Vatel the immortal, who fell upon his sword and died, because the fish -was late for the royal dinner. - -Of the other evening, when half a dozen guests of mixed nationalities -began, through a temptation of the devil, to talk politics at ten -o’clock on the verandah--of the fur that, metaphorically speaking, -commenced to fly when the American cast the Irish question into the -fray, and the Englishman vilified Erin, and the Irishwoman, following -the historical precedent, called the Frenchwoman to her aid, and the -latter in the prettiest manner in the world, got up and closed her -two small hands round the throat of John Bull, and choked him into -silence--it would not be necessary to tell, had not the sequel been -disastrous to the fair name of our steamship party in Papeete. For a big -banana spider, as big in the body as half a crown, and nearly as hard, -came suddenly out from the stephanotis boughs, and, like a famous -ancestor, “sat down beside” a lady of the party. This caused the -politicians to rush to the aid of the lady, who had of course mounted -a chair and begun to scream. The spider proved extremely difficult -to kill, and had to be battered with the legs of chairs for some time -before he yielded up the ghost--one guest, who found an empty whisky -bottle, and flattened the creature out with it, carrying off the honours -of the fray. After which excitement, we all felt ready for bed, and -went. - -“And in the morning, behold” the kindly L-------- smiling upon her -guests, and remarking: “Dat was a real big drunk you all having on the -veràndah, after I gone to bed!” - -“Good heavens, L--------!” exclaims Mrs. New England, pale with horror, -“what do you mean?” - -“Surely, Mrs. L--------, you do not suppose for an instant any of -our party were--I can hardly say it!” expostulates a delicate-looking -minister from the Southern States, here for his lungs, who was very -prominent last night in arguing Ireland’s right to “secede” if she -liked. - -“That’s a good one, I must say,” remarks John Bull, rather indignantly. - -But L-------- only smiles on. She is always smiling. - -“Dat don’t go, Mr. ----------” she says pleasantly. “I couldn’t sleep -last night, for the way you all kicking up, and the girl, she say -you fighting. Madame ---------- she trying to kill Mr. Bull, all the -gentlemen smashing the leg of the chairs, the lady scream--and dis -mornin’, I findin’ a large whisky bottle, all drunk up.” - -I am privately choking with laughter in a corner, but I cannot help -feeling sorry for Mrs. New England, who really looks as if about to -faint. - -“_I_ don’ mind!” declares L-------- delightedly. “Why, I been thinking -all dis time you haven’t been enjoyin’ yourself at all. I like every -one here they having a real good time. Every one,” she smiles--and melts -away into the soft gloom of the drawing-room, where she sits down, and -begins to play softly thrumming, strangely intoxicating Tahitian dance -music on the piano. - -“_Elle est impayable!_” says the Frenchwoman, shrugging her shoulders. -“From all I hear of Tahiti, my dear friends, I think you shall find -yourselves without a chiffon of character to-morrow.... But courage! it -is a thing here the most superfluous.” - -Madame was a true prophet, I have reason to know; for many months after, -the story of the orgy, held on L--------‘s verandah by the English and -French and American ladies and gentlemen, reached me in a remote corner -of the Pacific, as “the latest from Papeete.” What I wanted to know, and -what I never shall know, for my boat came in next day, and took me away -to Raratonga--was whether the minister from the South eventually died of -the shock or not. I do not want to know about the lady from New England, -because I am quite certain she did--as certain as I am that I should -have, myself, and did not. - -Of the prospects in Tahiti for settlers I cannot say much. It was said, -while I was in Papeete, that there was practically no money in the -place, and the traders, like the Scilly Island washerfolk of well-known -fame, merely existed by trading with each other. This may have been an -exaggeration, or a temporary state of depression. The vanilla trade, -owing to a newly invented chemical substitute, was not doing well, but -judging by what I saw next year in Fiji, the market must have recovered. -The climate of Tahiti is matchless for vanilla growing, and land is not -very difficult to get. - -Quite a number of small schooners seemed to be engaged in the pearling -trade with the Paumotus--a group of islands covering over a thousand -miles of sea, and including some of the richest pearl beds in the -world--(French property). I never coveted anything more than I coveted -those dainty little vessels. Built in San Francisco, where people know -how to build schooners, they were finished like yachts, and their snowy -spread of cotton-cloth canvas, when they put out to sea, and their -graceful bird-like lines, would have delighted the soul of Clarke -Russell. One, a thirty-ton vessel, with the neatest little saloon in -the world, fitted with shelves for trading; and a captain’s cabin like a -miniature finer stateroom, and a toy-like galley forward, with a battery -of shining saucepans, and a spotless stove--snowy paint on hull and -deckhouses, lightened with fines of turquoise blue--splendid spiring -masts, varnished till they shone--cool white awning over the poop, and -sparkling brasses about the compass and the wheel, was so completely a -craft after my own heart that I longed to run away with her, or take her -off in my trunk to play with--she seemed quite small enough, though -her “beat” covered many thousand miles of sea. Poor little _Maid of the -Islands!_ Her bones are bleaching on a coral reef among the perilous -pearl atolls, this two years past, and her captain--the cheerful, trim, -goodnatured X--------, who could squeeze more knots an hour out of his -little craft than any other master in the port save one, and could tell -more lies about the Pacific in half an hour, than any one from Chili -to New Guinea--of his bones are coral made, down where the giant clam -swings his cruel valves together on wandering fish or streaming weed, -or limb of luckless diver, and where the dark tentacles of the great -Polynesian devil-fish - - Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green. - -The pitcher that goes to the well, and the schooner that goes to -the pearl islands, are apt to meet with the same fate, in time. -Nevertheless, tales about the Paumotus are many, and interesting enough -to attract adventurers from far, if they were known. How the rumour of -a big pearl gets out; how a schooner sets forth to run down the -game, pursues it through shifting report after report, from native -exaggeration to native denial, perhaps for months; how it is found at -last, and triumphantly secured for a price not a tenth its worth; how -one shipload of shell, bought on speculation, will have a fortune in -the first handful, and the next will yield no more than the value of the -shell itself--this, and much else, make good hearing. - -“Look at that pearl,” said a schooner captain to me one day, showing me -a little globe of light the size of a pea, and as round as a marble. “I -hunted that for a year, off and on. The native that had it lived way -off from anywhere, but he knew a thing or two, and he wouldn’t part. I -offered him goods, I offered him gin, I offered him twenty pounds cash, -but it was all no go. How d’you think I got it at last? Well, I’ll tell -you. I went up to his island with the twenty pounds in a sack, all in -small silver, and when I came into his house, I poured it all out in a -heap on the mats. ‘Ai, ai, ai!’ he says, and drops down on his knees in -front of it--it looked like a fortune to him. ‘Will you sell now?’ says -I, and by Jove, he did, and I carried it off with me. Worth? Can’t say -yet, but it’ll run well into three figures.” - -The pearling in the French islands is strictly preserved, and the terms -on which it is obtainable are not known to me. Poaching is a crime not -by any means unheard of. - -A glance at the map, and the extent of the Paumotu group, will explain -better than words why the policing of the pearl bed must necessarily be -incomplete. - -The steamer came in in due course, and carried me away to the Cook -Islands. Huaheine and Raiatea, in the Society group, were called at -on the way, but Bora-Bora was left out, as it is not a regular port of -call. I am glad I did not land on Bora-Bora, and I never shall, if I -can help it. No place in the world could be so like a fairy dream as -Bora-Bora looked in the distance. It was literally a castle in the air; -battlements and turrets, built of vaporous blue clouds, springing steep -and impregnable from the diamond-dusted sea to the violet vault of -heaven. Fairy princesses lived there, one could not but know; dragons -lurked in the dark caves low down on the shore, and “magic casements, -opening on the foam of perilous seas,” looked down from those far blue -pinnacles. - -Perhaps there is a village on Bora-Bora, with a dozen traders, and -an ugly concrete house or two, tin-roofed, defacing the beauty of the -palm-woven native homes, and a whitewashed church with European windows, -and a school where the pretty native girls are taught to plait back -their flowing hair, and lay aside their scented wreaths of jessamine and -orange-blossom. - -But if all these things are there, at least I do not know it, and -Bora-Bora can still remain to me my island of Tir-na’n-Oge--the fabled -country which the mariners of ancient Ireland sought through long ages -of wandering, and only saw upon the far horizon, never, through all the -years, setting foot upon the strand that they knew to be the fairest in -the world. If they had ever indeed landed there.... But it is best for -all of us to see our Tir-na’n-Oge only in the far away. - - Le seul rêve, intéresse. - - Vivre sans rêve, qu’est-ce? - - Moi, j’aime la Princesse - - Lointaine. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -_Is It the Loveliest?--How they deal with the Beachcomber----Cockroaches -and Local Colour--The Robinson Crusoe-Steamer--Emigrating to the South -Seas--The Lands of Plenty--How to get an Island._ - -EVERY ONE has seen Raratonga, though few travellers have looked on it -with their own mortal eyes. - -Close your eyelids, and picture to yourself a South Sea Island, of the -kind that you used to imagine on holiday afternoons long ago, when you -wandered off down to the shore alone, to sit in a cave and look -seaward, and fancy yourself Crusoe or Selkirk, and think the “long, long -thoughts” of youth. Dagger-shaped peaks, of splendid purple and gorgeous -green, set in a sky of flaming sapphire--sheer grey precipices, veiled -with dropping wreaths of flowery vine and creeper--gossamer shreds of -cloud, garlanding untrodden heights, high above an ocean of stainless -blue--shadowy gorges, sweeping shoreward from the unseen heart of the -hills--white foam breaking upon white sand on the beach, and sparkling -sails afloat in the bay--is not this the picture that wanders ever among -the gleams and glooms that dart across the schoolboy’s brain? - -It is not very like the average South Sea Island on the whole--but it is -a faithful portrait of Raratonga, the jewel of the Southern Seas. - -Nothing is more hotly disputed than the claims of the many beautiful -islands among the numberless groups of the Pacific to the crown of -supremest loveliness. Tahiti is awarded the apple of Paris by many, -Honolulu by a few, Samoa by all who have been there and nowhere else. -The few who have seen the quaint loveliness of Manahiki, or Humphrey -Island, uphold its claims among the highest, and for myself, I have -never been quite certain whether the low atoll islands are not more -lovely than all else, because of their matchless colouring. But, if -one pins one’s faith to the high islands, the accepted type of Pacific -loveliness, there is nothing more beautiful between ’Frisco and Sydney, -Yokohama and Cape Horn, than Raratonga, chief island of the Cook -archipelago. - -These islands lie some sixteen hundred miles north-east of New Zealand, -and about six hundred miles to the westward of Tahiti. They are eight in -number, seven inhabited, and one uninhabited, and cover about a hundred -and sixty miles of sea. The largest, Atiu, is about thirty miles -round, Raratonga, which is the principal island, containing the seat of -government and the only “white” town, is twenty miles in circumference. - -The whole group, as well as a number of outlying islands as much as six -and seven hundred miles away, is under the guardianship of the Resident -Commissioner appointed by New Zealand, to which colony the islands were -annexed in 1900. The government, as administered by Colonel Gudgeon, a -soldier who won much distinction in the days of the New Zealand Maori -wars, is all that could be desired. The beachcomber element, which is so -unpleasantly in evidence in other groups, has been sternly discouraged -in the Cook Islands, the Commissioner having the right to deport any one -whose presence seems undesirable to the cause of the general good. It -is a right not infrequently used. During my stay in the island, two -doubtful characters, recently come, were suspected of having committed -a robbery that took place in the town. There was practically no one -else on the island who could have done the deed, or would--but direct -evidence connecting the strangers with the crime, was not to be had. -Under these circumstances, the Commissioner simply deported the men -by the next steamer, giving no reason beyond the fact that they were -without means of support. There were no more thefts. The colonel might, -in the same manner, have ordered myself away by the next steamer, and -compelled it to carry me to New Zealand, if he had had reason to suppose -that I was likely to disturb the peace of the island in any way, -or incite it to violence or crime. The doctor--also a Government -official--was empowered to regulate the amount of liquor consumed by any -resident, if it appeared to exceed the permitted amount--two bottles of -spirits a week. Under these circumstances, one would expect Raratonga to -be a little Arcadia of innocence and virtue. If it was not quite -that, it was, and is, a credit to British Colonial rule, in all things -essential. - -Before the annexation, the government was chiefly in the hands of the -Protestant missionaries, who, with the best intentions in the world, -carried things decidedly too far in the way of grandmotherly laws. Even -white men were forbidden to be out of doors after eight o’clock in the -evening, on pain of a heavy fine, and the offences for which the -natives were fined would be incredible, were they not recorded in the -Governmental reports of New Zealand. - -In Raratonga of the older days (not yet ten years past) a native who -walked at dusk along the road with his sweetheart, his arm round her -waist after the manner of sweethearts all the world over, was obliged to -carry a burning torch in his hand, and was fined if he let it go out. -If he was found weeping over the grave of a woman to whom he was not -related (surely the strangest crime in the world) he was again brought -up and fined. These are only samples of the vagaries of irresponsible -missionary rule, but they go far to prove that spiritual and temporal -legislation are better kept apart. - -A Government accommodation house had been planned, but not built, when I -visited Raratonga, so I arranged, on landing, to take an unused house by -the week, and “do for” myself, as there seemed no other way of living. -Scarcely had I taken possession of my quarters, however, when the -residents came down to call, and invite me to stay in their house. I -did not know any of them, and they did not know me, but that did not -matter--we were not in chilly England, where a whole country-side must -discuss your personal history, family connections, probable income, and -religious views, for a good six months, before deciding whether you are -likely to be an acquisition or not, and calling accordingly. I began to -understand, now, the meaning of the term “colonial hospitality,” which -had formerly fallen on uncomprehending ears. And when I was settled down -that evening in the most delightful of bungalow houses, with a charming -host and hostess, and a pretty daughter, all doing their best to make me -feel at home, I realised that I was about to see something of the true -island life at last. - -[Illustration: 0035] - -It began rather sooner than I could have wished. When my new friends had -gone to bed, and left me sitting up alone in the hall to write letters -for the morning’s mail, the local colour commenced to lay itself on -somewhat more rapidly and thickly than I desired. I am not particularly -nervous about insects, but it is trying, when one is quite new to the -tropics, to see a horde of cockroaches as large as mice, with fearsome -waving horns, suddenly appear from nowhere, and proceed to overrun the -walls and floor, with a hideous ticking noise. And when one has steeled -oneself to endure this horrid spectacle, it is still more trying to -be shocked by the silent irruption of dozens of brown hairy -hunting-spiders, each big enough to straddle over a saucer, which dart -about the walls on their eight agile legs, and slay and eat the beetles, -crunching audibly in the silence of the night.... Truly, it was like a -waking nightmare. - -Those cockroaches! What I suffered from them, during the year or two of -island travel that followed! How they spoiled my tea, and ate my dresses -(or parts of them), and flew into my hair of moonlight nights, and -climbed into my berth on shipboard! It was on a liner that shall be -nameless, very early in the course of my wanderings, that I first -discovered the tendency of the cockroach to share the voyager’s couch -unasked, and never again did I know unvexed and trustful sleep aboard -a tropic ship. It was a moonlight night, and I was lying looking -peacefully at the brilliantly silvered circle of my port, when suddenly -a horrid head, with waving feelers, lifted itself over the edge of my -berth and stared me coldly in the face. I hit out, like the virtuous -hero in a novel, and struck it straight between the eyes, and it dropped -to the floor with a dull sickening thud, and lay there very still. I -thought gloatingly of how the blood would trickle out under my door in -the morning in a slow hideous stream, and how the stewardess, bringing -my early tea, would start and stop, and say in an awestruck tone that -one that night had met his doom--and so thinking, I fell asleep. - -I woke, with one cockroach in my hair, chewing a plait, and another -nibbling my heel. I got up and looked round. It was then that I wished -I had never come away from home, and that, since I had come, my sex -forbade me to go and berth in the hold. I was convinced that, if I could -have done so, I should have had a quiet night, because the hold is -the part of a ship where the cockroaches come from, and they had all -_come_--they were on the floor of my cabin, and sitting about the quilt. - -The hideous battle raged all night, and in the morning I asked one -of the mates for an axe, to help me through the coming renewal of -hostilities. He recommended boracic acid instead, and I may record, for -the benefit of other travellers, that I really found it of some use. - - -[Illustration: 0043] - -To find out, as far as possible, what were the prospects for settlers in -some of the principal Pacific groups, was the main object of my journey -to the Islands. It had always seemed to me that the practical side of -Pacific life received singularly little attention, in most books of -travel. One could never find out how a living was to be made in the -island world, what the cost of housekeeping might be, what sort of -society might be expected, whether the climates were healthy, and so -forth--matters prosaic enough, but often of more interest to readers -than the scenic descriptions and historical essays that run naturally -from the pen of any South Sea traveller. - -Certainly, the romantic and picturesque side of the islands is so -obvious that it takes some determination, and a good deal of actual hard -work, to obtain any other impressions whatever. But white human beings, -even in the islands, cannot live on romance alone, and many people, in -Britain and elsewhere, are always anxious to know how the delightful -dream of living in the South Seas may be realised. Practical details -about island life, therefore, will take up the most of the present -chapter, and readers who prefer the lighter and more romantic vein, must -turn the pages a little further on. . - -The number of those who wish to settle in the Pacific is by no means -small. - -The Pacific Ocean has always had a special interest for the English, -from the days of Drake s daring circumnavigation, through the times of -Captain Cook and the somewhat misunderstood Bligh, of the _Bounty_, down -to the dawn of the twentieth century. The very name of the South Seas -reeks of adventure and romance. Every boy at school has dreams of coral -islands and rakish schooners, sharks, and pearls; most men retain a -shamefaced fancy for stories of peril and adventure in that magical -South Sea world, of whose charm and beauty every one has heard, although -very few are fortunate enough to see it with their own bodily eyes. For -the Pacific Islands are, both in point of time and distance, about the -remotest spots on the surface of the globe, and they are also among -the most costly for the ordinary traveller to reach. Thus, for the -most part, the South Seas dream, which so many hot-blooded young Saxons -cherish, remains a dream only. The youth who has a fancy for Canadian -farming life, or for stock-raising in Australasia, may gratify his -desire with the full approval of parents and guardians in private life, -and of Empire-builders in high places. But the British possessions in -the South Seas--and what extensive possession they are let Colonial maps -prove--may cry out for settlers from the rainy season to the dry, and -round again to the rainy season once more, without attracting a single -colonist of the right kind. - -What is the reason of this? Where is the broken link? The British -Pacific Islands need settlers; young Britons at home are only too ready -to adventure themselves. Why do they not? There are several reasons. The -first, perhaps, is that neither party can hear the other. In England few -possess any information about the South Sea Islands. In the Pacific -the white residents (almost all New Zealand traders and Government -officials) are possessed with an idea that only wastrels of the worst -kind drift out from England to the South Seas, and that nothing better -is to be looked for. The result is that at the present date young -Englishmen by the hundred are losing their small capital as “pupils” on -Canadian farms, or are starving on the roads in South Africa, while -all the time the South Sea Islands hold out hands of peace and plenty, -begging humbly for a respectable white population. The brown races are -dying out with fearful rapidity; at their best they never touched the -limitless capacities of the golden Pacific soil. Its richness has always -seemed to the original inhabitants an excellent reason for abstaining -from cultivation. When the earth produced of itself everything that was -necessary for comfort, why trouble to work it? Now, however, when -so many groups of fertile islands have fallen into the hands of more -progressive nations, things are changed. The white man can live happily -and healthily in the Pacific; he can obtain a good return for a small -capital at the best, and at the worst cannot possibly suffer from either -cold or hunger, since neither exists in the South Seas. He can lease or -buy land from the natives at slight cost, work it with small labour, and -sell the product to a sure market. Honesty, sobriety, and industry repay -their possessor as almost nowhere else in the world. Yet, with all this, -the white settler in the Pacific Islands is generally of a more or less -undesirable kind. - -The “beachcomber” white, without friends, means, or character; the -“remittance man,” paid to keep as far away from home as possible; the -travelling ne’er-do-well, with a taste for novelties in dissipation, -and a fancy for being outside the limit of Press and post--all these are -familiar figures in the Pacific. Kipling’s Lost Legion musters there by -the score; the living ghosts of men whose memorial tablets are blinking -white on the walls of English country churches, walk by daylight along -the coral beaches. Only the steady man, the young energetic man with a -future and without a past, the man who can get on without a three-weekly -spree of the most torrid kind, commonly keeps away. And these are just -the men that the “Islands” want. Local trading interest, religious -and otherwise, often does its best to keep them from coming, through -a natural, if scarcely praiseworthy, desire to retain personal hold of -everything worth holding. The Governmental party of every group desires -the respectable settler with a little capital, and expresses its desire, -as a rule, in gentle wails delivered through Governmental reports--a -method about as effective as putting one’s head into a cupboard to hail -a ’bus in the street. The Press does not recognise the existence of -any habitable land in the Pacific, outside Honolulu and Samoa. So the -dead lock continues. - -I can see the Left Behind in the office raise his head at this, and -look through the muddy panes of the counting-house window, or across -the piles of summer goods on the shop counters, out beyond the clanging -street, and right through the whole round world to the far-away Pacific -lands. He wants to get away so very badly, that poor Left Behind, and he -does not quite see his way to do it, because every one discourages him -if he hints at the subject, and he does not know how one could make a -living, out in those fairy lands that he wishes so much to see. Well, I -am on his side in this matter. If it is a crime to long for a glimpse -of the wonderful island world, to ache for a life spent under the free -winds of heaven, and a chance of the danger, adventure, and -excitement, which are as strong wine to the heart of almost every young -Englishman--then it is a crime shared by the best that the nation has -ever known, and one which has done more to build up the empire than all -the parochial virtues ever owned by a million Young Men’s Improvement -Societies put together. - -The Islands are not the place for the ne’er-do-well, and I would also -warn the exasperating young man, who never did a square day’s work in -his life, never got into trouble with his employers or his -superiors, but always found himself misunderstood, unappreciated, and -incomprehensibly “sacked,” with an excellent character, at the first -hint of slacking business--that the islands will not suit him either. -If he comes out, he will not starve or go to the workhouse, because you -cannot die of hunger where there is always enough vegetable food to keep -the laziest alive, and you do not need workhouses, under the same happy -conditions--but he will “go native,” and there are some who would say he -had better starve, a good deal. There are men who have “gone native” - in most of the Pacific groups, living in the palm-leaf huts with the -villagers--but a white man in a waist-cloth and a bush of long hair, -sleeping on a mat and living on wild fruit and scraps given by the -generous natives, drunk half the time and infinitely lower, in his -soberest hours, than the coloured folk who unwisely put up with him, is -not a happy spectacle. - -The Cook Islands, which may be taken as a sample of many other groups, -are small to look at on the map, and not over large, when one counts up -the number of square miles. But one cannot fairly estimate the value of -island land by its extent. Much of it is so rich that every foot has its -worth, and that is by no means despicable. And, in any case, there is -plenty available for the small cultivator--the man who has only a few -hundred pounds, and cannot afford to do things on the colossal scale -that makes big fortunes. - -Among the productions of the group are pineapples, custard apples, -coffee, tobacco, pepper, mammee-apple or paw-paw, granadilla, cocoa, -cotton, vanilla, limes, lemons, oranges, bananas, castor-oil, and many -other useful plants, besides a number of excellent vegetables, not known -to most Europeans. Many of the fruits above mentioned grow practically -wild. Bananas come to bearing in fifteen months, cocoanuts in seven -years, limes in four or five. The water supply is good all round, and -there is a monthly steamer from Auckland. - -The land in all the islands belongs to the natives, and cannot usually -be bought outright. Leases of any length, can, however, be secured -at very low rates, with the New Zealand Government laws, administered -through the Resident, to back up the titles, so that a man who plants -cocoanuts--the safest of island products--may be sure that his children -and grandchildren will enjoy the fruits of his labour. - -In most of the outer islands the natives cannot use more than a small -fraction of the land, and are quite willing to let large sections at a -shilling or two an acre. In Raratonga, the chief island, there has been -more demand for land, and prices are consequently higher; also, the -chiefs are not always ready to let, even though they do not use what -they have. It may be said, however, of the group as a whole, that there -is land, and a prospect of a good return for capital, ready for any -reasonable number of settlers, if they bring habits of industry and a -determination to succeed along with them. - -There are two classes of possible settlers to be considered--the man -with capital, and the man without. - -How much does it take to start a man as a planter, and what return can -he expect? - -Taking the Cook Islands as a general example (but by no means suggesting -that the resources of the Pacific begin and end there) the young -Englishman wishing to seek his fortune as a planter should have at least -£500 to start on, exclusive of passage-money. He can do excellently with -a few hundreds more, but it is as well to put things as low as possible. -Copra--the dried kernel of the cocoanut--is the usual, and the safest, -investment. It is always saleable, and the demand increases year by -year--so much so, that the large soapmaking firms, who are the chief -users of the product, are of late planting out islands for themselves. -The cost of clearing and planting the land is about £5 an acre. The -rent, in the outer islands, should not exceed a couple of shillings an -acre. In about seven years, the returns begin to come in, and in ten -years’ time the land should be bringing in £5 net profit for every acre -of trees. This is, of course, a long time to wait, but bananas can grow -on the same land meantime, and will generally yield a quick return. Once -the cocoanuts start bearing, they go on for sixty years or more, so -that a copra plantation is one of the best investments for a man who has -others to come after him. - -Banana growing may be managed with less capital, but the profits are not -so sure, since fruit is perishable, and cannot wait for the steamer as -copra can. Coffee has been grown, but is not of late years doing well, -because of something like a “ring” formed in New Zealand to lower -the prices. Cotton used to do excellently, and I have never heard any -satisfactory reason against its being taken up afresh. It is running -wild in a good many parts of the group. The plants above mentioned, -however, by no means exhaust the resources of the islands, which are -suitable for growing anything that will live in the tropics, and are -fortunately not subject to the destructive hurricanes that from time -to time do so much damage in Tahiti and the Fijis. Hurricanes are not -absolutely unknown, but they are very rare, and not of the worst kind. - -The cost of living is not very serious, but it must not be supposed that -the settlers can live decently and like white men, on nothing a year. A -house costs something to put up, and furniture to a certain small amount -is necessary, clothes do not grow on the cocoanut tree, nor do lamps and -kerosene, or tools and nails, or fishing lines, or flour and bacon and -tea and tinned butter, and the few groceries that the settler may need. -Still, with care, a single man can live quite respectably on fifty -pounds a year, and enjoy, in all probability, better health than he has -had at home. - -What the time of waiting will cost the copra planter, each one must -work out for himself. He will do best to spend his capital gradually, -planting as he can afford. The returns will come in only by degrees, -but he will be saved the mortification of seeing a promising plantation -leave his possession for a third of its value, simply because he cannot -afford to wait until the profits begin. - -Copra, the chief article of commerce of the Pacific, is very easily -prepared. The cocoanuts, when ripe, are husked, and emptied, and the -kernels, as a rule, left to dry in the sun, though some few planters use -artificial heat. Bagging is the only other operation necessary. - -Bananas are often shipped clumsily and carelessly, in unprotected -bunches. It would be much better to pack them in leaves and crate -them, as is done in the Canary Islands, where the banana trade is the -principal support of the country. Oranges are usually shipped in crates. -They grow wild all over the Cook group, and are not attended to in any -way, but in spite of this, the orange trade with New Zealand is by no -means despicable. - -Vanilla is not cultivated for market in these islands, but it would -probably repay the experimenter. It does well in most of the Pacific -groups, and the returns begin in three years from planting. - -Island planters, as a race, seem to be the most conservative of men, and -very shy of trying anything new and unproved. There are, of course, good -reasons for this, but there are also excellent arguments in favour of -exploiting fresh fields. The following brief hints may prove fruitful to -enterprising minds. - -Only one kind of banana--the sort familiar at home--is usually grown -for trade. There are many varieties, however, and some of the very best -travel quite as well as the commonplace “China” sort. The large red -banana, sometimes called the Aitutaki banana, sometimes the peach -banana, on account of its delicate peach-like flavour, is a fruit that -would become the fashion at once, if it could be put on the market. One -or two planters have gone so far as to send consignments down to New -Zealand, but, finding that these did not sell on account of the unusual -colour of the fruit, they never made another attempt. At the time of -my visit, in 1904, the red banana was practically unobtainable in New -Zealand or Australia. A little intelligent co-operation on the part of -the buyers would probably get over the difficulty. - -The same may be said of limes, a fruit which grows wild very freely. The -lime is like a small, round-shaped lemon, and is not an attractive fruit -in appearance. It also suffers under the disadvantage of being very -badly represented as to flavour by the bottled “shop” lime-juice, with -which the taste of the fresh lime has hardly anything in common. Where -it can be obtained fresh, however, no one ever thinks of using lemon as -a flavouring in food or drink. The lime is incomparably more delicate -and refreshing than the best lemon ever grown. For some unknown reason, -however, it is not used in New Zealand, or in the cities of Australia, -to which it could be easily and profitably exported from many of the -Pacific groups. Instead, the juice of limes is squeezed out by a very -rough process, the fruit being run through a wooden hand-press, and is -shipped away in casks. The lime trade would certainly rival the orange -trade, if worked up. - -Dried bananas have money in them, and the industry is especially adapted -to some of the lesser Cook Islands, where steamer calls are at present -irregular. The dried and pressed banana is better than the fig, and is -considered a great delicacy by the few people in the colonies who have -tried it. The Cook Islanders peel the fruit, and leave it to dry in -the sun. When it is shrunk, dark, and sticky with its own sugar, they -compress it into neat little packets covered with dried banana leaf, and -tied with banana fibre. These will keep good for many months. Up to the -present, the trade is extremely small, but there is no reason why it -should not be increased. - -One of the chief troubles of the settler is the guava bush, which runs -wild all over the islands, and is extremely hard to destroy. It bears -quantities of excellent fruit, but guavas do not pay for exporting, so -no one, apparently, has thought of making the island pest profitable. -And yet, when I went down to New Zealand, which is in direct -communication with the Cook Islands and less than a week away, I found -the price of guava jelly in the shops was higher than it is at home. -Asked why no one in the islands sent jelly for sale, the grocers said it -was because jampots were not made in New Zealand, and had to be imported -if wanted. Since most jams in the colonies are sold in tins, this -did not appear to me an unanswerable argument. Tins are made in the -colonies, and the process of tinning jam or jelly should not be beyond -amateur powers. Moreover, common tumblers (which are also made in New -Zealand) are a good and profitable way of putting up jellies; purchasers -are always willing to pay extra for the advantage of getting something -useful along with the dainty itself. - -Another item: Dried peppers bring a good price per ounce, and fine Chili -pepper grows wild everywhere. So far, trade is nil. - -Another: One of the commonest plants in the Southern Pacific, a weed -bearing a bright red flower almost exactly like the pine-cone in shape, -contains, in the flower, a quantity of white watery liquid, which -is declared by the natives, and by many of the whites, to be an -exceptionally fine hair tonic. No one, so far as I know, has tried to -make anything out of this, or out of the wild castor oil, which is said -to be of good quality. - -If the settler cannot find some useful hint among these, he may be able -to discover a few on the spot for himself. - -The second class of settler--the man without capital, or with only a -little--is a pariah everywhere. No colony wants him, agents warn him -away, friends write to him begging him to stay where he is, and not -tempt fortune by going out unprovided with plenty of cash. No doubt -there is reason on the side of the discouragers; but there is not a -colony in the world, all the same, where you shall not find the man who -came out without capital, who endured a few years of hard work and short -commons, began to get on, began to save, went on getting on and saving, -and by-and-by became one of the most successful men in the place. -Whereupon as a rule he becomes an adviser in his turn, and solemnly -counsels young men of every kind against the imprudence of tempting -fortune with an empty purse. - -For all that, and all that, young Britons will continue to do what they -are advised not to, and ships will carry out many a man to the far wild -countries whose only gold is the gold of youth and health and a brave -heart. “Sink or swim” is the motto of this kind of colonist, and if he -often goes under, he very often floats on the top, and comes in on the -flood-tide of good luck. “Fortune favours the brave”--a proverb none the -less true because of its age. - -To have an island of one’s own, in the beautiful South Seas, to -live remote from strain and worry, and out of the clash and roar -of twentieth-century civilization--to pass one’s days in a land of -perpetual summer; work, but own no master, possess a country (small -though it may be) yet know none of the troubles of sovereignty--this -is an ambition of which no one need be ashamed, even though-it appear -contemptible and even reprehensible to “Samuel Budgett, the Successful -Merchant.” The planter with a fair amount of capital can realise the -dream almost any day, for every big group in the Pacific has many small -unoccupied islands which can be rented for a song, and if the newcomer -is made of stuff that can stand being totally deprived of theatres, -clubs, music halls, daily posts and papers, and a good many other charms -(or burdens) of city life, he has only to pick and choose, secure a good -title to-his island, decide what he means to grow on it, get his house -built, and settle down at once. - -But people who have very little money cherish the same ambition, often -enough: There are thousands of men in the United Kingdom to whom a South -Sea Island of their-own would be heaven--only they see no way of -getting it. The desire comes, without doubt, of generations of insular -ancestors. It is the “Englishman’s house is his castle” idea carried a -step further than usual, that is all; and the boy that never wholly dies -in the heart of every Briton is always ready to wake up and rejoice at -the thought. - -What is the moneyless man to do? - -Well, first of all, he must get out to Sydney or Auckland, each being -a port from which island vessels constantly sail, and with which island -trade is closely concerned. It will not cost him so much as he thinks. -If he goes by Auckland, he can get a third-class ticket from London for -fifteen pounds, and Sydney is little more. Arrived, he will make use of -the information he has, of course, obtained in London, from the offices -of the Agent-General for New Zealand (or Australia, as the case may be) -and try and get a job to keep him on his feet while he looks about. If -he can do any kind of manual labour, he will not be at a loss--and if he -cannot, or will not, he had much better stay at home on an office stool -within sound of Bow Bells, and leave the far countries to men of tougher -material. - -In Sydney or Auckland he will find a good many firms connected with -island trading interests, many of whom own trading stores dotted about -the whole Pacific. It is often possible to obtain a job from one of -these, if the newcomer is capable and steady. In this case, the way -of getting up to the islands is clear, and the work of copra trading, -keeping store for native customers, fruit-buying and shipping on the -spot, is the best possible training for an independent position. If this -proves a vain hope (it need not, in the case of a good man, if one may -judge by the wretched incapables who occupy the trader’s post in many -islands) our adventurer must try to raise the cost of a passage as best -he can, and see what he can get to do among the white people of the -group he has selected, when he arrives. There are so many useless -wastrels in most of the islands, that character and capability are to a -certain extent capital in themselves. Some one is generally in want of -a plantation overseer to replace a drunken employee--some one else would -be glad of a handy man to help with housebuilding of the simple island -kind--and in many islands, board and lodging, and a little over, would -be easily obtainable by any educated man, who would undertake to teach -the children of the white settlers. There are groups in which no one is -allowed to land who does not possess a certain minimum of cash, but it -is not in any case that I know of more than ten pounds, and most islands -have no such regulation. - -Once so far on his journey, the would-be island owner must think out the -rest for himself. There is sure to be a small island or two for rent, -and there will probably be means of making money by slow degrees in the -group itself. Where the will is, the way will be found. - -The popular dream of finding and taking possession of an unoccupied -island somewhere or other, and “squatting” there unopposed, is a dream -and nothing more. The great European nations have long since parcelled -out among themselves all the groups worth having, and rent or purchase -is the only way to acquire land. Far-away separate islands, remote from -everywhere, are still to be had for nothing in a few instances, but they -are not desirable-possessions, unless the owner can afford a private -sailing vessel, and in any case what has not been picked up is little -worth picking in these days. - -So much for the how and where of acquiring islands. I shall have one or -two definite instances to give in another chapter. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -_Where are the Six Thousand?--Calling on the Queen--A Victoria of the -Pacific--The Prince sleeps softly--The Mystical Power of the Mana--How -Islanders can die--A Depressing Palace--Round the Wonderful Roadway--The -Home of Queen Tinomana--A Princess’s Love Story--Once on Board the -Schooner!--The Incredible Crabs--Depravity of a Mor Kiri-kiri._ - -A HUNDRED years ago, Raratonga had six thousand native inhabitants, and -was a very flourishing heathen country, where cannibalism was all the -fashion, murder of shipwrecked sailors a common custom, and raids upon -neighbouring islands the chief diversion. There is no doubt that the -Raratongan of those days compared none too well with the Tahitian, -who at the worst never was an habitual cannibal, and was almost always -friendly to strangers. Williams was the first missionary to arrive in -the earlier part of the last century, and the complete conversion of the -island was rapid; the Raratongan in a few years was no longer cannibal, -no longer warlike, had become hospitable and friendly to travellers, had -learned to wear clothes (a good deal more than he wanted or should have -had, but the missionary of the early days really did not know what a -fatal thing he was doing, when he enforced the wearing of white man’s -raiment on the unclothed native, and thereby taught him to catch cold, -and die of chest diseases). The island had (and has) a large school for -the training of mission teachers, and a church and mission house not to -be matched in the Pacific for magnificence, and was on the whole a model -of most of the virtues, compared with what it once had been. There were, -and are, drawbacks to the missionary rule, but these have been discussed -so freely in almost every book of Pacific travel ever written, that I -do not feel it necessary to say over again what has so often been said -before. The missionaries certainly civilised the islands, and made them -safe to live in. Concurrently with this desirable result, others not -so desirable took place, the fruit, in some cases, of irresponsible -authority exercised by semi-educated men; in others, of the inevitable -fate that follows the introduction of civilisation to primitive races. -The Raratongan, like all the other brown folk of the islands, was asked -to leap, almost at once, the gulf between utter savagery and comparative -civilisation, that had taken his instructors all the time between -the Roman Conquest and the end of the Dark Ages to overpass. With the -docility of the true Polynesian, he did his best to comply. It was not -his fault--and not, one must fairly say, the fault of the missionary -either, save in a minor degree--that the effort meant death to him. - -There are not nineteen hundred Raratongans living now in the fertile -little country that used to support six thousand of their ancestors. -There are not enough babies in the island to carry on the population at -half its present level, in the future. Not one of the “chief” families, -of whom there are a dozen or so, has any living children at all. -Consumption is common, and on the increase; more serious diseases are -commoner still. A Raratongan seldom lives to be very old, and he almost -always dies without resistance or regret. The islanders are happy and -sunny in their own quiet way, but the backbone of life has been broken -for them, and in the promise of the future, grey or golden, they have no -share. To-day is theirs, but they have no to-morrow. - -The Arikis, or chiefs, to whom the principal power once belonged, and -who still retain much importance, regret this state of affairs in an -amiable, fatalistic way, but do not trouble themselves very much over -it. They are for the most part of the opinion of Sir Boyle Roche about -the claims of posterity; and anyhow, they have their fruit trading to -think about, and the next public dancing and singing party, and the last -illegal beer-brewing up in the hills--so the decadence of their country -sits lightly on their minds. - -These Arikis are one and all inferior to the ruling sovereign, Queen -Makea, who still contrives to retain a great deal of quiet power in her -shapely old hands, in spite of the fact that she is nominally deposed, -and her country owned by New Zealand. I had not been in Raratonga -more than a day or two, when my hosts took me to call upon the queen, -intimating that she would feel hurt if the newcomer was not presented to -her. - -[Illustration: 0111] - -We walked through the blazing sun of the tropic afternoon, down the -palm-shaded main street of Avarua town, to the great grassy enclosure -that surrounds the palace of the queen. One enters through a neat -white gate; inside are one or two small houses, a number of palms and -flowering bushes, and at the far end, a stately two-storeyed building -constructed of whitewashed concrete, with big railed-in verandahs, and -handsome arched windows. This is Makea’s palace, but her visitors do not -go there to look for her. In true South Sea Islander fashion, she keeps -a house for show and one for use. The islander, though he aspires when -“civilised,” to own a big concrete house, “all same papalangi” (white -man), does not really like living in a building that shuts out the air. -He discovered the fresh-air system long before it was thought of by the -folk who discovered him, and his own houses are always made of small -poles or saplings, set without any filling, so that the whole building -is as airy as a birdcage, and almost as transparent. In this he lives, -while the big concrete house, with its Auckland made tables, chairs, and -beds, and the red and blue table-cloths, and horrible gilt lamps fringed -with cut glass lustres, and shrieking oleograph of King Edward in -his coronation robes, is kept strictly for show, and perhaps for an -occasional festival, such as a wedding party. It is an odd custom, but -sensible, on the whole. - -[Illustration: 0117] - -Makea’s favourite house is a pretty little reed and thatch villa several -miles out in the country. When she is in town, she makes some concession -to state by living in a small one-storeyed cottage, with a thatch and a -verandah, and not much else, close beside her big palace. We found her -at the cottage when we called, sitting on the verandah upon an ironwood -couch, and petting a little turtle of which she is very fond. It seems -a curious sort of creature to adore, but an elderly lady must have her -little pet of some kind. In other climes, it is a pug, a parrot, or a -cat. Here, the little turtle is considered chic, so the queen has one, -the turtle having been always considered a perquisite of royalty in the -old days, when the chiefs had the best of everything, even down to the -choicest tit-bits of the roasted enemy, while the commonalty had to put -up with what they could get. - -[Illustration: 0125] - -I was introduced to the queen, who shook hands politely, and sent one -of her handmaids for chairs. These being brought, my hostess and I sat -down, and the latter conversed with Makea in Raratongan, translating a -few conventional politenesses from myself, and conveying others to me in -return. The queen wanted to know how I liked the island, if I had really -come all the way from England, as she had heard, whether I was not -afraid to travel so far alone, how long I hoped to stay, and so forth. -All the time, as we talked, her keen black eyes were scanning me -silently, rapidly, comprehensively, and making their own judgment, quite -independently of the conversation and its inevitable formalities. And -I, on my side, was gazing, I fear with some rudeness, at the very -remarkable figure before me. - -Makea, since the death of her husband, Prince Ngamaru, a few years ago, -has laid aside all vanities of dress, and wears only the simplest of -black robes, made loose and flowing from the neck in island fashion. She -is supposed to be at least seventy years of age, and she is extremely -stout, even for her height, which is well over six feet. Yet a more -impressive figure than this aged, deposed, uncrowned sovereign, in her -robe of shabby black, I have never seen. Wisdom, kindliness, and dignity -are written large on her fine old face, which has more than a touch -of resemblance to the late Queen Victoria. And oh, the shrewdness, the -ability, the keen judgment of men and things, that look out from those -brown, deep-set eyes, handsome enough, even in old age, to hint at the -queen-like beauty that once belonged to this island queen! - -Makea was always known as a wise, just, and very powerful sovereign. She -ruled over the whole Cook group, and her word was law everywhere, -even to the Prince Consort, the warlike Ngamaru, who to the very last -retained some traces of his heathen upbringing, and used to be seen, -in the island councils of only a few years ago, making the horrible -cannibal gesture which signifies in unmistakable pantomime, “I will tear -the meat from your bones with my teeth!” at any other council member who -presumed to disagree with him. Their married life was a happy one, in -spite of the prince’s violent character, and when he died, the widowed -queen took all her splendid robes of velvet, silk, and satin, gorgeously -trimmed with gold, tore them in fragments, and cast them into his grave, -so that he might he soft, as befitted the prince who had been loved so -well by such a queen. - -Makea holds much of the real power in her hands to-day, for all that -the islands are the property of the British Crown, and administered by a -Commissioner. The Raratongan is submissive to chiefs by nature, and the -queen, though uncrowned, is still reverenced and feared almost, as much -as of old. It is firmly believed that she possesses the mystic power -known as “mana” among the Maori races, and this, as it gives the -owner power to slay at will, is greatly feared. The word is almost -untranslatable, meaning, perhaps, something like “prestige,” “kudos,” or -the old English “glamour.” It includes, among other gifts, second sight -to a certain extent, the power to bring good or evil luck, and the -ability already mentioned to deal death at will. - -[Illustration: 0139] - -This last may sound like fiction. It is nothing of the sort, it is -plain, bald fact, as any one who has ever lived in the islands can -testify. There is nothing more commonly known in the South Seas than -the weird power possessed by kings and heroes to slay with a word, and -instances of its exercise could be found in every group. - -Makea does not use it now, so they say. She is old: like aged folks -in other places, she wants to “make her soul,” and it can readily be -imagined that the mission authorities do not approve of such heathen -proceedings. Still, there is not a native in Raratonga who does not -believe that she could strike him dead with a wish, any day in the week, -if she chose: and there are not a few who can tell you that in the days -long ago, she exercised the power. - -“Makea, she never rude, because she great chief,” said a relation of the -royal family to me one day. “She never say to any one, ‘You go die!’ I -think. She only saying, some time, ‘I wish I never seeing you again!’ -and then the people he go away, very sorry, and by-n’-by he die--some -day, some week, I don’ know--but he dyin’ all right, very quick, you -bet!” - -The power to die at will seems to be a heritage of the island races, -though the power to live, when a chief bids them set sail on the dark -seas of the unknown, is not theirs. Suicide, carried out without the -aid of weapons or poisons of any kind, is not at all uncommon. A man -or woman who is tired of life, or bitterly offended with any one, will -often lie down on the mats, turn his face, like David of old; to the -wall, and simply flicker out like a torch extinguished by the wind. -There was once a white schooner captain, who had quarrelled with his -native crew; and the crew, to pay him out, lay down and declared they -would die to spite him.... But this is about Makea the Queen, not about -the godless brutal captain, and the measures he took to prevent his men -from taking passage in a body across the Styx. They didn’t go after all, -and they were sore and sorry men when they made the island port, and the -captain, who was a very ill-educated person, boasted far and wide -for many a day after that, that he would exceedingly well learn any -exceedingly objectionable nigger who offered to go and die on him -again--and that is all that I must say about it, for more reasons than -one. - -The queen, after a little conversation, punctuated by intervals of -fanning and smiling (and a more charming smile than Makea’s, you -might search the whole South Seas to find), sent a girl up a tree for -cocoanuts, and offered us the inevitable cocoanut water and bananas, -without which no island call is complete. Afterwards, when we rose to -go, she sent a handmaid with us to take us over the palace, of which she -is, naturally, very proud, though she never enters it except on the rare -occasion of some great festival. - -The palace proved to be as uninteresting as the queen herself was -interesting and attractive. It had a stuffy, shut-up smell, and it was -furnished in the worst of European taste, with crude ugly sofas and -chairs, tables covered with cheap-jack Manchester trinkets, and staring -mirrors and pictures--partly sacred art, of a kind remarkably well -calculated to promote the cause of heathenism, and partly portraits, -nearly as bad as those one sees in the spring exhibitions at home. There -were two or three saloons or drawing-rooms, all much alike, on the lower -storey. Upstairs (it is only a very palatial island house that owns -an upstairs) there were several bedrooms, furnished with large costly -bedsteads of mahogany and other handsome woods, and big massive -wardrobes and tables--all unused, and likely to remain so. The place -was depressing on the whole, and I was glad to get out of it into the -cheerful sun, although the heat at this hour of the afternoon was really -outrageous. - -[[Illustration: 0165] - -Another afternoon, I drove out to see Queen Tinomana, a potentate only -second to Makea in influence. Tinomana, like Makea, is a dynastic name, -and is always borne by the high chief, man or woman, who is hereditary -sovereign of a certain district. The present holder of the title is a -woman, and therefore queen. - -What a drive it was! The roadway round the island is celebrated all -over the Pacific, and with justice, for nothing more lovely than this -twenty-mile ribbon of tropic splendour is to be found beneath the -Southern Cross. One drives in a buggy of colonial pattern, light, -easy-running, and fast, and the rough little island horse makes short -work of the miles of dazzling white sandy road that circle the shores -of the bright lagoon. On one side rises the forest, green and rich and -gorgeous beyond all that the dwellers of the dark North could possibly -imagine, and opening now and then to display picture after picture, in -a long gallery of magnificent mountain views--mountains blue as the sea, -mountains purple as amethyst, mountains sharp like spear-heads, towered -and buttressed like grand cathedrals, scarped into grey precipices where -a bat could scarcely cling, and cloven into green gorges bright with -falling streams. On the other, the palms and thick undergrowth -hardly veil the vivid gleam of the emerald lagoon lying within the -white-toothed barrier reef, where all day long the surf of the great -Pacific creams and froths and pours. By the verge of the coral beach -that burns like white fire in the merciless sun, the exquisite ironwood -tree trails its delicate tresses above the sand, so that, if you leave -the carriage to follow on the road, and walk down by the beach, you -shall catch the green glow of the water, and the pearly sparkle of -the reef, through a drooping veil of leafage fine as a mermaid’s hair. -Sometimes the buggy runs for a mile or two through thick woods of this -lovely tree, where the road is carpeted thickly with the fallen needles -of foliage, so that the wheels run without sound, and you may catch the -Eolian harp-song of the leaves, sighing ceaselessly and sadly - - Of old, unhappy, far-off things, - -when the evening wind gets up and the sun drops low on the lagoon. - -The myths of the Pacific are marvellous in their way, but they pass -over unnoticed much that could not have escaped the net of folk-lore and -poetry in Northern lands. That the lovely ironwood, a tree with -leaves like mermaid’s locks, and the voice of a mermaid’s song in its -whispering boughs, should stand bare of legend or romance on the shores -of a sea that is itself the very home of wonder, strikes the Northern -mind with a sense of strange incongruity. But the soul of the islands is -not the soul of the continents, and the poet of the Pacific is still to -be born. - -[Illustration: 0173] - -Sometimes, again, the little buggy rattles over white coral sand and -gravel, on a stretch of road that is fairly buried in the forest. The -sun is cut off overhead, and only a soft green glow sifts through. The -palm-tree stems sweep upward, tall and white, the gigantic “maupei” - rears aloft its hollow buttressed stems, carved out into caverns that -would delight the soul of a modern Crusoe, and drops big chestnuts, -floury and sweet, upon the road as we pass. The “utu,” or Barringtonia -Speciosa, one of the most beautiful of island trees, towers a hundred -feet into the warm glow above, its brilliant varnished leaves, nearly -a foot long, and its strange rose and white flowers, shaped like -feather-dusters, marking it out unmistakably from the general tangle of -interlacing boughs, and crowding trunks and long liana ropes, green and -brown, that run from tree to tree. If you were lost in the bush, and -thirsty, one of those lianas would provide you with waters, were you -learned enough in wood lore to slash it with your knife, and let the -pure refreshing juice trickle forth. You might gather wild fruit of many -kinds, too, and wild roots, mealy and nourishing, or dainty and sweet. -And at night, you might creep into your hollow tree, or lie down on the -warm sand of the shore, with nothing worse to fear than a mosquito or -two. - -There are no wild beasts in any of the Pacific Islands, save an -occasional boar, which always lives remote from men in the hills, and is -much readier to run away than to annoy. There are no poisonous snakes, -either, tarantulas, or deadly centipedes and scorpions. I cannot -honestly say that the two latter creatures do not exist, but they very -seldom bite or sting any one who does not go barefooted, and their venom -is not deadly, though painful. - -On almost every tree, as we rattle along through the forest, my hostess -and I can see the beautiful bird’s-nest fern, looking like a hanging -basket of greenery. We have not time to stop to-day, but we shall have -to go out some other afternoon and cut down a few of the smaller ones -for table decoration, for there is a dinner party coming off, and we -are short of pot plants for the rooms. Young palms, most graceful of all -green things, shoot up like little fountains in the clearings, some of -the smaller ones still’ root-bound by the large brown nut from which -they have sprung. One would never think these dainty ball-room palms -were related in any way to the stately white columns-spiring high above -them, for the full-grown palm is all stem and scarcely any top, in -comparison, while the young palm, a mass of magnificent spreading -fronds, rises from a short bulb-like trunk that suggests nothing less -than further growth. - -The drive is six good miles, but it seems only too short. In a very -little while, we have reached Queen Tinomana’s village--a picturesque -little grassy town, with brown thatched huts, and white concrete -cottages washed with coral lime, and gay red and yellow leaved ti -trees standing before almost every door--and the queen’s own palace, -a handsome two-storeyed house, quite as fine as Makea’s, stands up in -front of us. - -Passing by this piece of European splendour, we go to draw a more likely -covert, and ere long flush our quarry in a little creeper-wreathed -cottage, hidden behind bushes of deliciously scented frangipani and -blazing red hibiscus. The queen is on the verandah, seated, like Makea, -on an ironwood sofa of state. She sits here most of the day, having -very little in the way of government to do, and no desire to trouble her -amiable head with the white woman’s laborious methods of killing time. -Sometimes she plaits a hat to amuse herself, being accomplished in this -favourite Raratongan art--a sailor hat with a hard crown and stiff -brim, and a good deal of neat but lacy fancy work in the twisting of the -plait. Sometimes she receives friends, and hears gossip. Sometimes, she -sleeps on the sofa, and wakes up to suck oranges and fall asleep again. -The strenuous life is not the life beloved of Tinomana, nor (one may -hint in the smallest of whispers) would her much more strenuous sister -queen encourage any developments in that direction. - -It is well, under the circumstances, that both are suited by their -respective rôles, otherwise the somewhat difficult lot of the Resident -Commissioner might be rendered even more trying than it is. - -Tinomana is not young, and she is not lovely now, though one can see -that she has been beautiful, as so many of the soft-eyed island women -are, long ago. She has had her romance, however, and as we sit on her -verandah, drinking and eating the cocoanut and banana of ceremony, the -grey-haired white man who is husband of the queen tells the story to me -of her love and his, just as it happened, once upon a time. - -In 1874 the Cook Islands were an independent group, governed by their -own chiefs, or Arikis. The Arikis had much more power in those days than -they are now allowed to exercise. They could order the execution of any -subject for any cause; they could make war and end it: and no ship dared -to call at the islands without their permission. They owned, as they -still own, all the land, and their wealth of various kinds made them, in -the eyes of the natives, millionaires as well as sovereigns. - -“Women’s rights” were a novelty to England thirty years ago, but in the -Cook Islands they were fully recognised, even at that early period. -The most powerful of the Arikis was Makea--then a girl, now an elderly -woman, but always every inch a queen, and always keeping a firm hand on -the sceptre of Raratonga. Any Cook Islands postage-stamp will show Makea -as she was some ten years ago. In 1874 Makea and her consort, Ngamaru, -were making plans for the marrying of Tinomana, a young Raratongan -princess closely related to Makea. Tinomana would shortly become -an Ariki, or queen, herself, and her matrimonial affairs were, in -consequence, of considerable importance. - -What the plans of Raratonga’s rulers for Tinomana may have been matters -little. Tinomana was pretty, with splendid long black hair, large soft -brown eyes, an excellent profile, and a complexion little darker than a -Spaniard’s. She was also self-willed, and could keep a secret as close -as wax when she so desired. She had a secret at that time, and it -concerned no South Sea Islander, but a certain good-looking young -Anglo-American named John Salmon (grandson of a Ramsgate sea-captain, -Thomas Dunnett), who had lately landed at Raratonga from the trading -schooner _Venus_, and had been enjoying a good deal of the pretty -princess’s society, unknown to the gossips of the island. It was a case -of love at first sight; for the two had not been more than a few days -acquainted when they came privately to James Chalmers, the famous -missionary, then resident in Raratonga, and begged for a secret -marriage. - -James Chalmers refused promptly to have anything to do with the matter, -and furthermore told Tinomana that he would never marry her to any white -man, no matter who it might be. In his opinion such a marriage would be -certain to cause endless trouble with the other Arikis--apart from -the fact that Queen Makea was against it. So the lovers went away -disconsolate. Raratonga was keeping holiday at the time, because a great -war-canoe was to be launched immediately, and a dance and feast were -in preparation. But Tinomana and her lover were out of tune with the -festivities, and no woman in the island prepared her stephanotis and -hibiscus garlands for the feast, or plaited baskets of green palm leaves -to carry contributions of baked sucking-pig and pineapples, with as -heavy a heart as the little princess. - -On the day of the feast an idea came to Salmon. There were two schooners -lying in Avarua harbour. One, the _Coronet_, had for a captain a man -named Rose, who was as much opposed to Salmon’s marriage as Chalmers -himself. The _Humboldt_ schooner, on the other hand, had a friend -of Salmon’s in command. From him some help might be expected. Salmon -visited him secretly, found that he was willing to assist, and -arranged for an elopement that very night. Tinomana was willing; nobody -suspected; and the feast would furnish a capital opportunity. - -There was no moon that evening, happily for the lovers, for the smallest -sign would have awaked the suspicions of the watching _Coronet_. When -the feast had begun, and all Raratonga was making merry with pig and -baked banana, raw fish and pineapple beer, Tinomana contrived to slip -away and get back to her house. Womanlike, she would not go without her -“things”; and she took so long collecting and packing her treasures--her -silk and muslin dresses, her feather crowns, her fans and bits of -cherished European finery from far-away Auckland--that the suspicions of -a prying girl were aroused. Out she came, accompanied by two others--all -handmaidens to Tinomana--and charged the princess with an intention to -elope. Tinomana acknowledged the truth, and ordered the girls to hold -their tongues, offering them liberal rewards. This was not enough, -however; the three girls demanded that Tinomana, in addition to buying -their silence, should shield them from the possible wrath of the great -Makea by taking them with her. She was forced to consent; and so, when -the impatient lover, lurking in the darkness near the harbour, saw his -lady coming at last, she came with three attendants, and almost enough -luggage to rival Marie Antoinette’s encumbered flight to Varennes. - -Eventually, however, the party put off in a canoe, the girls lying flat -in the bottom, with Tinomana crouching beside them and Salmon holding -a lighted torch, which he waved in the air as they went. For the boat -had to pass close by the Coronet, and Captain Rose, somehow or other, -had become suspicious, and young Salmon knew he would think nothing of -stopping any boat that could not give an account of itself. So Salmon -took the torch, to look like a fishing-boat going out with spears and -torches to the reef, and, paddling with one hand while he held the light -aloft with the other, he passed the _Coronet_ safely, knowing well that -his face would be unrecognisable at a distance of fifty yards or so in -the wavering shadow of the flame. - -Beyond the reef lay the _Humboldt_ waiting. Tinomana and her maids and -her luggage were swung up the side with small ceremony; Salmon hurried -after, and a small but welcome breeze enabled the schooner to slip out -to sea unnoticed in the dark. She made for Mangaia, another of the Cook -Islands, some hundred and fifty miles away, and reached it in a couple -of days. But the _Humboldt_ had hardly made the land when the dreaded -_Coronet_ appeared on the horizon, carrying every stitch of sail, and -with her decks, her “Jacob’s-ladder,” and her very yardarms crowded by -furious Raratongans. The fugitives were caught! - -At first they had not been missed. The islanders were feasting and -drinking, the Arikis were unsuspicious, and the _Coronet_ had seen only -a fishing-canoe with a solitary man on board gliding out to the reef. -But with the morning light came the knowledge that Tinomana was absent -from her palace, that Salmon had not come home, and that the _Humboldt_ -was gone. Raratonga was enraged, and all the more so because pursuit -appeared for the moment to be impossible. They knew that the _Humboldt_ -had probably made for Mangaia; but the breeze had died away, and -the _Coronet_, her sails flapping idly against her rakish masts, lay -helpless in harbour. Some brilliant spirit, however, proposed that the -schooner should be towed out, in the hope of catching a breeze beyond -the reef; and half a dozen great whaleboats, manned by powerful arms, -were harnessed to the _Coronet’s_ bows. Out she came through the opening -in the foaming coral reef, with screaming and splashing and tugging -at oars, into the blue, open sea, and beyond the shelter of the peaky, -purple hills. The breeze was met at last, the boats cast off and dropped -astern, and the _Coronet_, carrying half Raratonga on board, set sail -for Mangaia. - -Once within the range of the _Humboldt_ the _Coronet_ lowered a boatful -of armed men, and the latter made for the schooner lying-to under -the shelter of the Mangaian hills. Captain Harris, of the _Humboldt_, -however, ordered his crew to shoot down the first man who attempted to -board, and the attacking boat thought better of it. Beaten by force they -tried diplomacy, in which they were more successful. They told Captain -Harris that all his cargo of valuable cotton, lying on the wharf at -Raratonga ready for shipment, would be destroyed unless he gave the -princess back. This meant absolute ruin, and the captain had to submit. -Salmon told Tinomana that it was best to give in for the present, as -they were caught; but that the parting would be only for a time. And -back to Raratonga went the disconsolate princess, bereft of her lover -and her stolen wedding, and with the anticipation of a good scolding to -come from the indignant Arikis. - -For some months after this disaster Salmon wandered about from island to -island, living now in Raiatea, now in Flint Island, now in Mauke--always -restless and always impatient. At last he judged the time had come to -make a second attempt, and tried to obtain a passage to Raratonga. - -Schooner after schooner refused to take him, but finally a little vessel -called the _Atalanta_ braved the wrath of the Arikis and brought -him back. During his absence time had worked in his favour, and the -opposition to the marriage was now much weaker. The Arikis received -him coolly and fined him twenty pounds’ worth of needles, thread, and -tobacco for his late excursion, but they no longer refused to let him -see Tinomana. The missionary, however, still objected to the marriage, -and as he was the only clergyman available for the ceremony it seemed as -if things, on the whole, were “getting no forrader.” - -At this juncture the great Makea stepped in, and with the charming -variability common to her sex, took the part of the lovers against all -Raratonga as strongly as she had before opposed their union. She was not -then in Raratonga, but in another of the Cook Islands, Atiu. From thence -she sent the schooner _Venus_ to Raratonga, ordering the captain to -fetch Tinomana and Salmon to Atiu, where the local missionary would -marry them, or Makea would know the reason why. - -Raratonga--obstinate Raratonga!--still refused to give its princess to -a foreign adventurer, though it trembled at the thought of defying the -Elizabethan Makea. A band of warriors came down to the harbour to see -that Salmon did not get on board the ship. As for Tinomana, they did not -dare to oppose her departure, when the head of the house had actually -summoned her. But the princess had no notion whatever of going alone. -Salmon was smuggled on board in the dusk and hidden under a bunk. A pile -of mats and native “pareos,” or kilts, was placed over him, and there, -in the heat of the tropic night, he lay and sweltered, while the _Venus_ -swung to her cable and the warriors hunted the ship and found nothing. -When they went off, baffled, the schooner put to sea. A Raratongan -vessel, still suspicious, chased her to Atiu, but Makea informed the -pursuing crew that it would be bad for their health to land on her -property unasked; and, as this great Pacific Queen had, and has, the -reputation of keeping her word when it is passed, the Raratongans did -not dare to set foot on shore. This time it was they who went home -disconsolate. - -And so the young couple were married “and lived happily ever after.” - Tinomana and her consort now reside at Arorangi, Raratonga, in their -long, low house, set among frangipani trees and oranges, and covered -with flowering tropical creepers, and seldom or never occupy their -palace. Tinomana’s five children are dead; she herself is growing old, -but the memory of those long-past years of adventure and romance is -still with her. Her life glides quietly and dreamily by, within -the sound of the humming ocean surf, under the shadow of the purple -Raratongan hills. She has had her day, and there remain the quiet sunset -and the softened twilight, before the time of dark. - -The queen had little to say to us, for she does not speak English, -nor is she shrewdly curious about men and things outside of sleepy -Raratonga, like her sister sovereign, Makea. She smiled a good deal, and -said some polite things about my dress, which illustrated a new fashion, -and seemed to interest her more than anything else connected with the -call. I had brought a gift with me for Tinomana, a silk scarf of a -peculiarly screaming blue, and I presented it before I took my leave -with some politenesses that the royal consort rapidly translated for me. -The queen was much pleased with the gift, and began trying its effect on -several different hats at once. Then we had some more cocoanut water and -said good-bye, and drove home again in the yellow sunset. - -The crabs were getting noisy as we passed along a soft bit of sandy road -close by the shore. They are fairly active all day, and at night seem to -wake up a little more completely than before. One can hear them rattling -and scratching loudly all over the stones and rubbish about the shore; -the ground is riddled with their holes--as we pass, they dart in at -their front doors as swiftly as spiders, and stand looking cautiously -round a comer till the threatening apparition is gone. They are not nice -things, these crabs--they are tall and spindly and insectlike in build, -with a scrawny body set on eight spider-like legs, and ugly, sharp, thin -claws. They live on the land, but haunt the beach a good deal, because -of the débris to be found there, and they are such nasty feeders that -not even the natives will eat them, which is saying a good deal. - -They have an uncanny fancy for coming into houses. If your residence is -not raised up on a good Verandah, which they cannot surmount, you may be -alarmed some night by a ghostly tapping and ticking on the floor, like -nothing you have ever heard or dreamed of before, and while you are -wondering fearfully what the sound may be, you will suddenly become -aware of something clumsy and noisy scrambling among the mosquito -curtains of your bed. At this, if you are of common human mould, you -will arise hastily, tangling yourself up in the curtains as you do -so, and call loudly for a light. And when one is brought, behold the -offender scuttling hastily away on eight long thin legs into the outer -dark, without stopping to make an explanation or an apology. You are -so annoyed that you put on a dressing-gown and follow him out on the -verandah, a stick in your hand and murder in your heart; but just as you -reach the steps, there is a loud “flump” on the floor, and a centipede -as big as a sausage, with a writhing black body and horrible red legs -and antennae, flashes past the edge of your sweeping draperies. At this -you give it up, and get back to your mosquito curtains. - -You are just falling asleep, when------ Good Heavens! what is it? - -Surely nothing but a burglar could have made that fearful noise in the -outer kitchen!--a burglar, or a madman, or both in one. It sounds as if -some one were beating somebody else with an iron bucket. Perhaps it -may be only a native dog chasing a cat. Up go the curtains once more, -letting half the mosquitoes in the island in, and off the wretched -traveller sets for the kitchen, accompanied by a brave but pallid -hostess, who says she is extremely sorry her husband _would_ choose this -week for going away from home. - -There he is! there is the author of the noise--a black, bristly, -incredibly hideous hermit crab as big as a biscuit--out of his shell, -and fighting like grim death in an empty kerosene tin, with another crab -nearly as big, and quite as vicious. Number one has got too big for the -secondhand univalve shell he lived in, and is touring the country trying -to replace it. Number two, also out-growing his clothes, has got half a -broken sardine box in the kerosene tin (which acts as ash-bucket to the -house), and he thinks it is the loveliest new shell he has ever seen. -So, unluckily, does the other crab, and they are in the act of putting -it to ordeal by combat, when we invade the scene of the battle, and -rudely shake the crabs and the shells and the sardine tin all off the -end of the verandah together. - -“What on earth brings crabs into people’s houses?” you ask amazedly, -as you go back to bed again. It seems an insane action for any sensible -crab, considering that we are half a mile from the sea. - -“Pure cussedness,” says my friend wrathfully. “They even climb up the -verandah posts, and sit among the flowers. ‘What for? Spite, I think; -there isn’t anything more ill-natured in the world than a hermit crab.” - -If it is not a moonlight night, now, we get to sleep at last, but if it -is, and the oranges are ripe------ - -Well, that is the time the “mor kiri-kiris” choose to perform their -orisons; and when they are playing the devil with the holy peace and -calm of midnight on the roof, not even a fourth mate newly come off his -watch, could sleep below. - -“Here, you blank, blank, blank, unspeakable, etcetera, let go that -orange!” - -“I shan’t, blank your double-blank limbs and wings! I got it first!” - -“Then just look out, you mangy, fox-faced, clumsy-winged beast, for I’ll -rip the inside out of your rotten carcase with my claws.” - -“Like to see you!” (somewhat muffled with stolen orange). - -“You will!” - -Shriek, shriek, yell, howl, scream. - -“You’ve bitten my toe off, you trebly-blanked vermin!” - -“Meant to!” - -“Clear off!” - -“Won’t!” - -“Come on again, then!” - -“Pax! pax! here’s the great pig with fur on its head that lives in the -house, coming out with a gun. I’m off.” - -“So am I, but we’ll go back again the moment it goes in.” That is the -way one sleeps in the orange season, in a place that happens to be -popular with the “mor kiri-kiri,” or flying-fox--a bat with a furry body -as big as a cat’s, long sharp white teeth, a head exactly like a fox, -and the crustiest disposition of anything living on the island. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -_Feasting and Fun on Steamer Day--The Brown People of Rara-tonga--Who -sent back the Teeth?--Divorce made easy--Climbing a Tropical Mountain--A -Hot-water Swim--Out on the Rainbow Coral Reef--Necklaces for No One._ - -STEAMER day in Raratonga, as in all the islands that rejoice in the -privilege of a regular steamer service, is beyond comparison the event -of the month. Almost before dawn on the day which is expected to see -the boat arrive, the traders are up and about, seeing to the carting of -their fruit and copra, and making ready the shelves of the stores for -the new goods coming in from Auckland. All the residents, men and women, -white and brown, are getting out the cleanest of muslins and drill -suits, and looking up the shoe-whitening box, which perhaps has not been -much in demand since the steamer called on her way back from Tahiti -last month. The daughters of the white community are making tinned-peach -pies, and dressing fowls, in case of callers--these are the inevitable -“company” dishes of the Pacific--and the native women are bringing out -their newly made straw hats, and, ironing their gayest of pink or yellow -or scarlet cotton, squatting cross-legged on the floor as they work. -Cocoanuts for drinking are being husked by the men of the village, and -laid in neat piles under the verandahs, out of the sun; and in most of -the little birdcage houses, the children are impounded to grate cocoanut -meat for cream; while the dying yells of pigs make day hideous from the -groves beyond the town. - -When the tiny trail of smoke, for which every one is looking, first -rises out of the empty sea, it may be on the day expected, or it may be -later--there is little time in the Great South Seas--the whole island is -agape with excitement. The natives shriek with delight, and make haste -to gather flowers for wreaths and necklaces; the clean suits and frocks -are put on by brown and white alike, and the populace begins to -hover about the wharf like a swarm of excited butterflies. The great -whale-boats are ready to rush out at racing speed to the steamer, long -before she comes to a stop in the bay--she dares not come into the -harbour, which is only fit for small craft--passengers from Auckland -come ashore, anxious to see the island curiosities, and find to -their embarrassment that they are unmistakably regarded in that light -themselves; and, as soon as may be, the mail comes after them. Upon -which events, the whole population makes for the Government buildings, -and flings itself in one seething breaker against the door of the Post -Office, demanding its mails. While the letters are being sorted by a -handful of officials locked and barred out of reach within, it rattles -at the doors and windows, and as soon as the bolts are withdrawn, the -mighty host, breathless and ruthless, bursts in like a besieging army. -But when all are in, nobody has patience to wait and open papers, in -order to know what has been going on in the outer world all these weeks. -Purser, passengers, and even sailors are seized upon, and compelled to -stand and deliver news about “the war,” and other burning questions, -before any one thinks of opening the envelopes and wrappers in their -hands. - -Minds being satisfied, bodies now assert their claim. Steamer day is -feast day--beef day, ice day, day for enjoying all the eatables that -cannot be had in the island itself. There is mutton in Raratonga, but -not much at the best of times, and of beef there is none at all. So all -the white folk order beef to come up monthly in the ship’s cold storage, -and for two happy days--the meat will keep no longer--they enjoy a feast -that might perhaps more fairly be called a “feed.” About noon on steamer -day, a savoury smell, to which the island has long been a stranger, -begins to diffuse itself throughout Avarua. Every one, with true island -hospitality, is asking every one else to lunch and dinner, to-day and -to-morrow, so that Mrs. A. and her family may have a taste of Mr. B.’s -sirloin, and Mr. B. get a bit of the C.’s consignment of steak, and the -A.’s and B.’s and E.’s enjoy a little bit of Colonel Z.’s roast ribs. -A sensuous, almost unctuous, happiness shines like a halo about every -face, and after dusk white dinner coats flit up and down the perfumed -avenues, thick as night-moths among the orange bloom overhead. Tomorrow -there will be great doings in the pretty bungalow on the top of the -hill, for the Resident Commissioner has got a big lump of ice as a -present from the captain of the steamer, and is hoarding it up in -blankets to give a dinner-party in its honour. The white man who could -consume a lump of ice all by himself, in the island world, would be -considered capable of any crime, and the hospitable Commissioner is the -last person to shirk his obligations in such a matter. - -Once the steamer has come and gone, a dreamy peace settles down upon the -island. There is seldom much certainty as to clock time, since every one -goes by his own time-piece, and all vary largely, nor does any one heed -the day of the month overmuch. This pleasant disregard of time is the -true secret of the fascination of island life--or perhaps one of -the secrets, since no one has ever really succeeded in defining the -unspeakable charm of these lotus lands. Imagine a civilised community, -where people dine out in evening dress, leave cards and have “At Home” - days, yet where there is no post except the monthly ship mail, there are -no telegrams, trains, trams, times, appointments, or engagements of any -kind! Picture the peace that comes of knowing certainly that, for all -the time of the steamer’s absence there can be no disturbance of the -even current of life; no great events at home or abroad, no haste, or -worry, or responsibility! People keep young long in Raratonga; faces are -free from weariness and strain; the white man with the “burden” laughs -as merrily and as often as the brown man who carries nought but his -flowery necklace and his pareo. Nobody is rich--rich men do not come -down to the islands to run small plantations, or trading stores, or to -take up little appointments under a little Government--but every one has -enough, and extravagance is impossible, since luxuries are unpurchasable -on the island. There are so social distinctions, save that between white -and brown--all the seventy or eighty white residents knowing one -another on a footing of common equality, although in England or even New -Zealand, they would certainly be split up into half a score of mutually -contemptuous sets. - -As for the natives--the jolly, laughing,-brown-skinned, handsome men and -women of the island--their life is one long day of peace and leisure and -plenty. The lands of the six thousand who once inhabited Raratonga are -now for the most part in the hands of the nineteen hundred survivors, -and every native has therefore a good deal more than he wants. -Breadfruit; bananas of many kinds, oranges, mammee-apples, and countless -other fruits, grow altogether, or almost, without cultivation; taro, -yam, and sweet potatoes need little, and cocoanuts are always to be had. -A native house can be put up in a day or two, furniture is superfluous, -and clothes consist of a few yards of cotton print. The Raratongan, -therefore, owes no tale of labour to Nature or Society for his existence -in quiet comfort, if he does not choose to work. But in many cases he -does choose, for he wants a buggy and a horse, and a bicycle or two, and -a sewing machine for his wife; shoes with squeaking soles for -festive wear--deliberately made up with “squeakers” for island trade, -these--bottles of coarse strong scent, tins of meat and salmon as -an occasional treat, and, if he is ambitious, one of those concrete, -iron-roofed houses of which I have already spoken, to enhance his social -position, and make the neighbours envious, what time he continues to -live peaceably and comfortably in his palm hut outside--not being quite -such a fool in this matter as he looks. - -Sometimes the Raratongan will go so far as to get his front teeth -stopped with gold by a travelling dentist, purely for style, since he -is gifted by nature with grinders that will smash any fruit stone, -and incisors that will actually tear the close tough husk off a -huge cocoanut without trouble. It is related of one of the wealthier -Raratongans that, being stricken in years and short of teeth, he -purchased a set of false ones from a visiting dentist, and that the -latter, when he next returned to the island, was astonished to find the -set thrown on his hands as no good, on the grounds that they would not -husk cocoanuts! - -In order to secure all these more or less desirable luxuries, the -Raratongan trades in fruit and copra. That is to say, he cuts up -and dries (strictly at his leisure, and when he feels like it) a few -thousand cocoanuts, or nails up some hundreds of oranges, and scores of -banana bunches, from his overflowing acres, in wooden crates, to send -down to Auckland. This labour, repeated a few times, brings him in good -British gold by the handful. Copra, sold to the traders in the town, -fetches about seven pounds a ton, and a family working for a few days -can prepare as much as that. Other produce is hardly less profitable, to -a cultivator who has more land than he wants, provides his own labour, -and need spend nothing on seeds or plants. There is, at most, only light -work, and that seldom, so that the Raratongan can, and often does, spend -the greater part of his time singing in choruses on the verandahs of -the houses, dancing to the thrilling beat of a native drum under the -cocoanut trees, or fishing lazily off the reef. - -The Raratongans are all, to a man, good Christians--good Protestants -of the Dissenting variety, good Catholics, and, in a few cases, -enthusiastic Seventh Day Adventists--being readily enough inclined to -adhere to a cult that makes it sinful to work on the seventh day of -the week, and impossible to work on the first. It is said that Mormon -missionaries have visited the group, but failed to make converts. -Without going into details that might disturb the sensitive mind, -one feels obliged to remark, in this connection, that the failure was -probably on all fours, as to cause, with the ill-success of the merchant -who attempted to sell coals to Newcastle. - -And--still concerning this matter--“one word more, and I have done.” - Some weeks after my arrival, I was going round the group in company with -the Resident Commissioner and a few more officials, who were -holding courts and administering justice in the various islands. The -Commissioner was late getting back to the ship one afternoon, and the -captain asked him if he had been detained. - -“Only a little while,” replied the guardian angel of the group, -cheerfully rattling his pockets, which gave forth a pleasant chinking -sound. “Another dozen of divorces. We’ll have a new road round the -island next year.” And he went to dinner. - -Divorce in the Cook Islands is not an expensive luxury. If memory serves -me right, it costs under thirty shillings, and there is a sixpence -somewhere in the price--I am unable to say why. But I remember very well -indeed, after the officials had gone home, when I was travelling round -about other islands with a captain, who had just taken over the ship and -did not know the Cook group, that dignitary came to me one day and said: - -“I can’t make out these hands of mine. They’re a very decent lot for -niggers, and don’t give no trouble, but one and another, now that we’re -going round the islands, keeps coming to me and asking me for an advance -on their wages, because, says they, they’ve been a long time from home, -and they wants it--and every blessed one of them he wants the same -advance!” - -“Was it so-and-so?” I asked, mentioning a certain small sum with a -sixpence in it. - -“How on earth did you know?” was the reply. - -“Price of a divorce from the Commissioner,” I explained. - -“Well!” said the captain, who was a hard-shelled old whaler, with a -strong religious cast. And again--“Well!” - -“That’s what I think myself,” I explained. “But it certainly fills -the exchequer. I hear the score runs up to ten or twelve apiece, often -enough.” - -“Disgustin’,” said the captain, spitting over the rail. - -“Certainly,” I agreed. - -But the incident has its own significance, so I have recorded it. - -I linger long over the life and ways of Raratonga, for I spent many -very happy weeks there--studying native customs, and taking notes? Well, -perhaps--a little, at all events. Raratonga is not quite so lazy a place -as Tahiti, and the climate is less trying. Still--still------ - -How impossible it is to explain to the reader who has never spent a -hot season in the tropics! I think I shall not try. There were missed -opportunities--there were things I ought to have studied, and did not, -and things I should have seen, and didn’t see. It is of no use to -say why. Those who have passed between the magic line of Cancer -and Capricorn will not need to ‘be told, and the others could not -understand. - -I did something to satisfy my conscience, however, when I climbed the -highest mountain in Raratonga--a peak something over three thousand feet -high, so the residents said. It was reported that the Admiralty survey -did not agree by a hundred feet or so, with the local estimate. I know -myself that both were wrong; that peak is ten thousand, or perhaps a -little more. Did it not take myself and two or three others from seven -a.m. until nine p.m to get up and down, working as hard as white ants -(there is nothing in the islands really busy except the ants) all the -time? - -We went the wrong way--several wrong ways--we lost our food and our -water, and got so thirsty that we licked the leaves of the trees, and so -hungry that it was agony to know ourselves above the zone of the orange -and banana all day, and see the food we could not reach till night -hanging in clusters far below. We did most of our climbing by the heroic -method of swarming up perpendicular rock faces on the ladders of the -creepers, and a good deal of it by scrambling along in the tops of small -trees, like monkeys. When we got to the top there was just room for the -whole party to stand and cheer, and we cheered ourselves vigorously. -People do not climb mountains--much--in the islands of the Pacific, and -the peak we were on had been trodden by only one or two white men, and -no white women. - -“There used to be natives up here often enough, some years ago, shooting -wild fowl,” said one of our guides, letting the smoke of his pipe curl -out over “half a duchy,” lying blue and green, and far, far down, under -his elbow. “But they stopped coming. Several of ’em got killed, and -the others didn’t think it good enough.” - -“How did they get killed?” I ask, listening to the wild cocks crowing in -the sea of green down below, like a farm-yard gone astray. - -“Oh, climbing!” - -When we had finished admiring the view of the island, we started down -again. And now, what with our hunger, and our fatigue, and the wild -adventures in impossible places we had had coming up, we all became -rather tired, and more than rather reckless. Over and over again, -slithering down steep descents, we let ourselves go, and tobogganed, -sitting, we did not care where. The lianas crashed, the red-flowered -rata snapped and fell on us, the lace-like tree ferns got in our way -with their damp black trunks, and banged us as we tumbled past. Every -one knew that if we did not get off the precipice slopes before dark, we -should have to halt wherever we might be, and wait till morning, holding -tight to the trunk of a tree to keep from falling down into depths -unknown. But no one said anything about it. - -And in the end, we got back safe--sore and tired and hungry; not -thirsty, however, for we had found a stream in the interminable dark of -the valley, and had all put our heads into it like brutes, the moment -our feet felt the welcome hollow and splashed into the water. The ladies -of the party had not a whole gown among them, and not very much else, -so shrewdly had the thorns and creepers of the close-knitted forest -squeezed and torn us. Still, we had got up where no white women had been -before, and we were all very proud, though we had to slink homeward in -the dark, avoiding the lights of the houses, and each slip in unobserved -at the back doors of our respective homes. But we had done the climb, -and------ “That was something,” as Hans Andersen would have said. - -Picnics we had in plenty, while I stayed. Sometimes they were bathing -picnics, when the ladies of half a dozen houses went off to spend the -day down on the shore, and swim in the lagoon. The water, not more than -five feet deep in any place, was the colour of green grass when the sun -shines through, and it was as warm as an ordinary hot bath. One could -spend hour after hour amusing Oneself with swimming tricks, coming out -now and then to roast for a little on the hot, snow-white coral -sand, where bits and branches of coral pretty enough for a museum lay -scattered everywhere, and exquisite flowering creepers spread their long -green tails of leafage--often thirty or forty, feet in length, and all -starred with pink or yellow blossoms--right across the broad expanse of -the beach. Coming out finally, it was customary to find a big rock, and -stand-with one’s back against it till the wet bathing dress was half -dried with the blistering heat of the stone. This was supposed to -prevent chills. I think myself that one would have to hunt a chill very -hard indeed in the hot season in Raratonga, before catching it. It is -not a place where one hears of “chill” troubles, and there is no fever -of any kind. When you find a draught there, you tell every one else in -the house about it, and they come and sit in it with you. When you give -tea, to callers, it is correct to serve cold water on the tray to temper -the beverage, and put a spoon instead of a butter knife, in the butter -dish. - -Nor does it cool down overmuch at night, in the hot months, though in -the “cold” ones, you may want a blanket now and then. The temperature -being so equable all round, chills are, naturally, not to be looked for -and feared at every turn, as in the great tropic continents, where there -is no surrounding sea to prevent rapid radiation of heat, and sudden -changes of temperature are frequent and deadly. On the whole, there is -much to be said in favour of the climate of the Southern Pacific, and -little against it. It enjoys a long cool season of at least six months, -when the heat is not at all oppressive. Three months of the year -are very hot and damp, and three neither hot nor cool. At worst, the -thermometer seldom goes above ninety in the shade. White children can -be brought up in the islands without injury to health, and many of the -older residents have spent the best part of a long life in the South -Seas, and attained to a venerable age, without ever suffering from -illness. The Government doctor in Raratonga leads an easy life on the -whole, and in the other islands of the Cook Group the entire absence of -medical advice seems to trouble no one. - -A reefing picnic was among the many pleasant entertainments to which I -was invited during my stay. “Reefing” is such a favourite entertainment -in the islands that nearly every white woman has a reefing skirt and -shoes in her wardrobe--the former short, like a hockey skirt, the -latter stout and old. Buggies are gathered together in the town, and the -picnickers drive to a suitable spot some distance away, where the horses -are taken out and tethered, and the “reefers” secure a canoe to bring -them to their destination--the coral barrier reef, lying between the -lagoon and the sea. - -Paddled by some of the native guests (for there are generally a few -Raratongans included in the party) the canoes glide easily over -the shallow water towards the reef, flights of the exquisite little -sapphire-coloured fish that haunt the coral rocks, scattering beneath -the keel like startled butterflies. Now the water is of the most vivid -and burning emerald, shooting green lightnings to the sun, now, as we -near the reef, it begins to change in colour, and----- - -Oh! - -Why, the canoe is floating on a liquid rainbow--on a casket of jewels -melted down and poured into the burning sea--on glancing shades of -rose, and quivering gleams of violet, and gold and blue and amethyst and -chrysophrase, all trembling and melting one into another in marvels -of colouring that leave all language far behind. Under the keel, as we -shoot forward, rise and sink wonderful water-bouquets of purple, pink, -and pearl; great lacy fans of ivory; frilled and fluted fairy shells, -streamers of brilliant weed, and under and through all these wonders -glint, from far below, the dark blue depths of unplumbed caverns -beneath. It is the coral reef, and we are going to land upon a -spot exposed by the tide, and see what we can see of these wonders, -by-and-by. If we were bent on fishing, we might spend a pleasant hour or -two catching some of these peacock and parrot-coloured fish that flutter -through these wonderful water-gardens. But reefing proper is more -amusing, after all. - -At a point where the coral juts out above the sea, we leave the canoe, -and start to walk about. It is very like trying to walk on a gigantic -petrified hair-brush. The coral is peaked and pointed, and wrought into -honeycombed sponges of stone, and there is nowhere for the foot to rest -in security. Besides, the reef is covered with sea urchins possessing -spines as long and sharp as a big slate-pencil, and these things pierce -through any but the stoutest shoes. The colours of the sea-urchins are -fascinating, and we pick up a good many, in spite of difficulties. Then -there are tiger shells, shiny and spotted, in hues of orange and brown, -and beautiful scarlet and pinky and lilac and chequered shells, and -the daintiest of goffered clam shells, pearl white within, ivory white -without, as large as a pea-pod, or as large as a vegetable dish--you -may take your choice. And, if you are lucky, there is a varnished brown -snail shell that you would not think worth picking up, if you did not -happen to know that it has a “peacock-eye” gem, good to set in brooches, -inside its plain little front door--like the homely brown toad of fable, -that carried a jewel in its head. Much other spoil there is to put -in your basket, and many things that you have no desire to possess at -all--among them the huge hanks of slimy black string, which are alive, -and wrigglesome, and not at all pleasant to put your hand on--and the -wicked-faced great eels that look suddenly out of holes, and vanish, -bubbling; and the revolting, leprous-spotted fish with the spiny back, -that one may chance to see lurking at the bottom of a pool, every spine -charged full of deadly poison for whoever touches it with unwary foot -or hand. Indeed, the friends who are with you will warn you not to put -your fingers into any pool, but to hook out shells and other spoil -with a stick, if you want to be really careful, for there, are as many -stinging and biting things among the beauties of the coral reef, as -there thorns in a bed of roses. - -I have secured a good many shells, and a Reckitt’s blue star-fish as -big as a dinner-plate, and one or two other curiosities, and now I want, -above everything else, one of those miraculous coral bouquets that bloom -so temptingly just beneath the surface at this point. One of my friends -asks me which I will have--with a smile, that, somehow or other, seems -to amuse the rest. I select a pinky-violet one, and with some dragging -and pounding, it is detached, and held up in the sun. - -“Oh!” I exclaim disappointedly, and every one laughs. The beautiful -bunch of coral flowers is a dirty liver-colour, and the magical hues are -gone. - -“It’s the water that gives the colours,” explains the coral-gatherer. -“Every one is awfully disappointed about it.” - -“Are there no colours at all, then?” - -“Oh yes, a little shade of pinkiness, and a touch of green, and that -purply-brown. But you should see the corals when they are cleaned -and dried. You’d better have these, you won’t know them when they are -bleached; they’re like spider’s webs and lace furbelow things, all in -white.” - -“Is there none of the real red stuff?” I ask somewhat ruefully, -balancing myself with difficulty upon a sort of ornamental sponge-basket -of spiky coral. - -“Not here. All these volcanic islands have a ring of coral reef right -round, but the coral is always the white kind. There’s a very little red -coral in Samoa, and about Penrhyn, I believe. But, speaking generally, -it’s all white in the Pacific.” - -I think of the dreams of my childhood, and the delightful pictures of -palmy islands circled round with a chevaux-de-frise of high spiky red -coral, which used to flit before my fancy on holiday afternoons. It is -true that the cold practicalities of the _Voyage of the Challenger_, -which somebody gave me in my “flapper” days, once and for all, to my -bitter disappointment, knocked the bottom out of those cherished schemes -of going away to live on something like a glorified coral necklace, some -day. But I wonder, as I get into the canoe again, and glide shorewards -and teawards, paddled by the swift brown arms of native girls, how many -grown-up people still hold to that delightful fancy, not knowing that it -is as impossible to realise as a dream of rambling in the moon? - -Tea is preparing on the shore when we get back, very wet and dirty, but -very well pleased. The native girls among the guests immediately offer -us spare dresses. It is the mode among Raratongans to take two or three -dresses to a picnic, and retire every now and then into the bush to -change one smart muslin or cotton “Mother Hubbard” for another--just for -pure style. So there are plenty of clothes to spare, and in a minute or -two the damp, sea-weedy “reefers” are fitted out with flowing garments -of clean cambric and silk, of a mode certainly better adapted to the -climate than the fitted garments of the “papalangi.” - -This question of dress is a burning one among island ladies. The native -loose robe, hung straight down from a yoke, is very much cooler, and -the doctors say, healthier, than belted and corseted dresses such as -European women wear. But there is nevertheless a strong feeling against -it, because it is supposed to mean a tendency to “go native,” and the -distinguishing customs of the race acquire, in the island world, a -significance quite out of proportion to their surface importance, -because of the greatness of the thing they represent. Therefore, the -white woman, unless she is suffering from bad health, and needs every -possible help to withstand the heat of the climate, sticks to her -blouses and corsets, as a rule, and sometimes “says things” about people -who do not. For all that, and all that, the native woman is in the -right, and if the other would agree to adopt the pretty, womanly, and -essentially graceful robe of the native, no one would be the loser, and -half of island humanity would be greatly the gainer. - -Later, when the dusk is coming down, and the magic moon of the islands -is creeping, big and round and yellow-gold, out of a purple sea, we -drive home again through the scented gloom of the forest, the endless -song of the reef accompanying the voices of the native women, as they -chant strange island melodies of long ago, that no one in these days, -not even the singers themselves, can fully translate or understand. The -moon climbs quickly up as we drive, and the road is as light as day, -when our wheels roll into the sleeping town. - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -_The Simple Life in the South Seas--Servant Problems again--Foods and -Fruits of the Country--The Tree that digests--Home-made Vanilla--The -Invaluable Lime--How to cook a Turtle--In an Island Bungalow--The Little -House on the Coral Shore--Humours of Island Life--Burying a Cycle--A -Network of Names--Mr. Zebedee-Thunderstorm-Tin-Roof--The Night-dress -that went to Church--The Extraordinary Wedding--South Sea Musicians--A -Conductor’s Paradise--Society Journalism in Song._ - -HOUSEKEEPING in the South Sea Islands demands a section to itself. All -who are uninterested in such matters may, and doubtless will, begin to -skip at this point. - -Nothing helps the white house-mistress more than the simple standard of -living set in most of the islands. It is true that if you are the wife -of an important official in the Government House entourage of Fiji, or -if you live in civilised, Americanised Honolulu, you will have to “do -things” much as they are done at home. But, with these two exceptions, -life in that enormous section of the globe known as the South Seas (much -of it, by the way,--is north of the Line) is simple and unpretentious. -In describing the home life of the white settlers in Raratonga, -I describe what is, with small local variations, the life of settlers -in almost every group of the Pacific, certainly, the life of all in the -eight different groups I visited myself, during the years I spent in the -South Seas. All over the island world, people dine in the middle of the -day, except when entertaining friends, keep few servants or none, and -dress and feed simply, because nothing else is possible. The trade -cottons in the stores form the material of every lady’s dresses, and -as for the making, common consent, not to speak of climatic conditions, -votes the simplest style the best. Where every stitch of sewing in dress -or blouse must be done by the person who is to wear the garment, it is -astonishing how soon one grows to regard elaborate tuckings, flouncings, -inlayings, with hostility, and how satisfied the eye becomes with the -simpler and less “fatigued” lines of the garments fashioned by women -who cannot hire a dressmaker for love or money. Evening dress is -almost always of the “blouse” description, and in a climate which works -universal mischief with delicate white skins, no matter how they are -protected, this is no matter for regret. Men buy their drill suits -ready-made from the trading stores at a few shillings apiece, and, with -a white dinner-jacket and black cummerbund, any one is ready for the -gayest of evening entertainments. - -The great dress question--being thus resolved into the simple elements -of a few cotton frocks for every day, and a muslin or two for best, -behold! half the worry of modern life is lifted at a blow. “One must -look like other people”--the goad of the toiling townswoman--becomes -in the islands, “One looks like other people because one must,” and the -words are a lullaby of rest. - -After dress, comes servants, in the list of small worries that turn -a woman’s fair locks grey, and swell the takings of the fashionable -hairdressers. Well, it cannot be said that there is no servant trouble -in the islands. White servants simply do not exist; they are far too -much in demand in America and Australasia to desert either of these -domestic paradises for the hotter and lonelier islands. Native girls -cannot be had either, since they marry at thirteen or thereabouts. -Native boys and men are the only resource. They come to work by the day, -and are fed in the house; their wages are generally about five shillings -weekly, in the case of a boy, and ten shillings for a man. So far as -they go, they are satisfactory enough; they work hard, and are extremely -honest, and they are amiability and good-nature itself. But their scope -is decidedly limited. They can garden, under direction; they can -sweep, fetch wood and water, clean the cooking-stove, husk and open the -cocoanuts, wash, peel and boil the vegetables, scrub the verandah floor, -clean the knives, wash up dishes, and whiten the shoes. That is about -all. The mistress of the house and her daughters, if she is lucky enough -to have any, must do all the serious cooking, make the beds, dust, tidy, -and lay the table for meals. - -One cannot say, however, that health suffers from the necessity of doing -a certain amount of housework every day. On the contrary, the white -women of the islands are strong and handsome, and do not seem to suffer -from the heat nearly so much as the semi-invalid ladies who have come -to be regarded as the type of white womanhood in India, that paradise of -excellent service and servants. - -Otherwise, the islands help out the housekeeper considerably. She can -grow as much excellent coffee as the family are likely to want, on a -few bushes in the back yard, and peppers only have to be pulled off the -nearest wild chili tree. Taro, yam, sweet potato, can be bought from -the natives for a trifle, or grown with very little trouble. There will -probably be enough breadfruit, mango, orange, lime, and mammee-apple in -the grounds of the house, to supply all the family needs, and if any -one likes chestnuts, they can be picked up under the huge maupei trees -along any road. The mammee-apple or paw-paw, mentioned above, is one of -the most characteristic fruits of the islands. In Raratonga, it grows -with extraordinary fertility, springing up of itself wherever scrub is -cleared away, and coming to maturity in a few months. It is a slender -palm-like tree, from ten to thirty feet high, with a quaintly scaled -trunk, very like the skin of some great serpent, and a crown of pointed, -pinnated leaves, raying out fanwise from the cluster of heavy green and -yellow fruit that hangs in the centre. The fruit itself is rather like -a small melon, though wider at one end than the other. It looks likes a -melon, too, when cut open, and is both refreshing and satisfying, with a -sweetish, musky flavour, The small, soft black seeds in the centre are -a sovereign cure for dyspepsia, as is also the fruit itself in a lesser -degree. The whole of this wonderful tree, indeed, seems to be possessed -of digestive powers, for the toughest fowl or piece of salt beef will -become tender in a few hours, if wrapped in its leaves. When boiled in -the green stage the fruit is undistinguishable from vegetable marrow, -and if cooked ripe, with a little lime juice, it can be made into a -mock apple pie, much appreciated by settlers in a land where the typical -British fruit cannot be grown. - -Cooking bananas are much used, and grow wild on the lands of the -natives, who sell them for a trifle. Every house has its own patch of -eating bananas of many kinds, and orange-trees are almost sure to be -there as well. There is always a huge bunch of bananas, and two or three -great palm-leaf baskets of oranges, on the verandah of every house, and -the inmates consume them both in uncounted numbers all day. Pineapples -are easily raised in the little bit of garden, or they can be bought for -a penny a piece. A vanilla vine will probably spread its beautiful thick -leaves over the fence, and hang out, in due season, a store of pods for -flavouring use in the kitchens. Arrowroot may be grown or bought--a big -basket sells for sixpence, and it has no more to do with the arrowroot -of the grocer’s shop at home, than a real seal mantle worth three -figures has to do with a two guinea “electric”. Limes grow wild -everywhere, and the island housewife makes full use of them. They clean -her floors, her tables, her enamelled ware, stained table linen, or -marked clothing; they wash her hair delightfully, and take the sunburn -off her face and hands; they make the best of “long drinks,” and the -daintiest of cake flavouring, they are squeezed into every fruit salad, -and over every stew; they take the place of vinegar, if the island -stores run low; in truth, they are used for almost every purpose of -domestic cooking, cleaning, or chemistry. - -Cabbage of an excellent kind grows wild in a few islands. Tomatoes, -small but excellent in flavour, are found on the borders of the -seashore, in many. Nearly all English vegetables are grown by the white -settlers with extremely little trouble. The egg-plant, known in England -as a greenhouse ornament, here thrives splendidly in gardens, and -instead of the little plum-like fruit of the British plant, produces a -great purple globe as big as a fine marrow, which resembles fried eggs -very closely, if sliced and cooked in a pan. But in truth there is no -limit to the richness and generosity of the island soil. Were it not -for the troublesome item of butcher’s meat, housekeeping in the -Pacific would be marvellously cheap and easy. That, however, is the -housekeeper’s bugbear. Outside of Samoa, Fiji, Tonga, Tahiti, the -Marquesas, and Honolulu, fresh beef is not be had at all, and fresh -mutton not often. In very many islands tinned meat and fowls are the -only resource; and the lady of the house must tax her ingenuity to the -utmost to find ways of disguising the inevitable “tin.” Curry, stew, -pie, mince; mince, pie, stew, curry--so runs the monotonous programme in -most houses; and disguise it as one may, the trail of the tin is over it -all. - -It is a great day in the islands when turtle are caught. They are not -common in the groups frequented by white people, since they prefer the -lonely, barren atolls where the soil is dry and infertile; but now and -then a “school” is found, and a big catch made. Then there is rejoicing -in the land, and cooking in every house of an uncommonly-liberal and -elaborate kind. The South Sea turtle are enormous, often weighing as -much as seven or eight hundred pounds, and occasionally touching the -thousand. Such a monster as this would easily feed a large household for -a week--but alas, in tropical climates fresh meat, even when scalded, -will not keep more than three days; so a good deal is usually wasted. -The famous turtle soup, is made from the flippers, which are full of -gelatine; and it may safely be assumed that no London aldermen fed on -dying creatures carried half across the world has ever tasted soup so -good as that made from a fine healthy turtle just out of the sea. The -grass-green fat of the upper shell is used to put in the soup, and to -fry the thick steaks of turtle beef, also to baste the big roast of -turtle meat that is generally a feature of a turtle dinner. The eggs (of -which there will probably be a large bucketful at least) are fried in -green fat, and eaten as they are, shell-less, crisp and golden, tasting -rather like roast chestnut. The tripe is cooked like ordinary tripe; the -liver is fried. An excellent dinner, but surely an indigestible one? -By no means. It is a curious property of this turtle meat that a much -larger quantity of it can be eaten than of any ordinary butcher’s meat, -without any sense of repletion or after ill effects. This is the great -dainty of the South Sea islands, and if to a turtle dinner be added -bisque soup made from mountain river crayfish, a real island fruit -salad, with lime juice and cocoanut cream, a freshly plucked pineapple, -a dish of mangoes, granadillas, and a cup of island-grown coffee, not -the Carlton or the Savoy could do better for a travelling prince. - -All South Sea Island “white” houses are more or less alike, being -built of coral concrete (occasionally of wood) and fitted with imported -windows and doors. The verandah is the great feature of the building; -for there the family will probably spend most of their time, reading, -smoking, receiving callers, or simply lounging in long chairs and -listening to the monotonous singing of the natives in the thatched reed -houses near at hand. Splendid climbing plants wreathe the pillars -and sloping roofs of these verandahs--stephanotis, Bougainvillea, -and countless gay tropical flowers whose ugly Latin names only an -accomplished botanist could remember. Gardenias, gorgeous white trumpet -lilies, tall bushes of begonia; pink, yellow and scarlet hibiscus, -crimson poinsettia, delicate eucharis lilies, run riot about the -grounds, and orange and lemon flowers fill the air with an exquisite -perfume. - -Within, the high-pitched, deep, church-like roof rises above a range of -partition walls separating the different rooms, but giving a common air -supply to all, since the dividing walls are not more than ten or twelve -feet high. There are no secrets in an island house; what any one says at -one end can be heard at the other, and a light burning late in anybody’s -bedroom keeps all the rest awake. In the older houses the roof is of -“rau” or plaited pandanus thatch, of a soft brown tone, delightfully -cool and exceedingly picturesque. The rafters, in such a house, will -be almost black with age, and beautifully latticed and patterned with -finely plaited “sinnet” (cocoanut fibre). More modern houses have -corrugated iron roofs, generally painted red. The water supply from -these roofs is of some importance, and they are less expense and trouble -than the thatch; but the latter is incomparably the more picturesque, -and a good deal the cooler as well. - -The floor is always covered with native matting (pandanus leaf, split -and plaited). This is of a pleasant tan colour in tone, and very cool -and clean. The furniture is generally basket and bamboo, with a native -“tappa” cloth (of which I shall have more to say later on) on the table. -There are sure to be groups of old native weapons on the walls--lances -and spears and clubs and arrows--and a few island fans, arranged in -trophies, and garlanded with chains of shells. On the steps of -the verandah one usually finds a fern or two, planted in big white -clam-shells off the reef, and there may be others in the drawing-room.’ -A piano is a great luxury; the island climate is not kind to pianos. -Harmoniums are more common. - -The bedrooms may have ordinary beds imported from Auckland, or they may -have (what is quite as good) native bedsteads made of ironwood, laced -across with sinnet, and covered with soft pandanus leaf mats, over which -the under sheet is laid. Unless it is the cool season there will not be -a blanket. Mosquito curtains, of course, protect each bed. All windows -and doors are wide open, day or night, hot season or cool. - -The South Sea housekeeper has a few insect plagues to fight against, -but not nearly so many as her sister in India or Jamaica. The ants eat -everything that is not hung or covered up. Enormous hornets, in the cool -season, lurk about ceilings, bookcases and cupboards, sleepy, cross, and -ready to dart a fearful sting, if accidentally touched. Cockroaches are -destructive at all times. Fleas do not trouble much, and flies are only -annoying in a few islands. Mosquitoes are troublesome in the hot season, -but give little annoyance at other times. Centipedes and scorpions -exist, but are not common. They do come into houses occasionally, and -(being very poisonous, though not deadly) frighten the inmates quite as -much as the inmates undoubtedly frighten them. It is the rarest possible -thing, however, to hear of a European being bitten. - -Education is not an unsolvable problem in the islands, since quite a -large number of groups possess convent schools, where even such extras -as music, languages, and fancy needlework can be taught. - -On the whole, the difficulties of housekeeping are somewhat less than at -home, and the cost certainly much smaller. It is true that a good -many tinned stuffs are used, and tinned food is always dear; but the -cheapness of everything that the soil produces makes up that difference, -and the simple standard of living swings the balance still further to -the right side. I am of opinion myself that white families would benefit -both in comfort and in pocket by adopting the native style of house, -which is, as already mentioned, a structure of small neat sticks or -poles set very closely and strongly, but not filled in. The roof is -always thatched. In such a house, the air circulates freely without any -draught, and there is a pleasant, diffused light during the daytime. -At night, when native houses are more or less transparent, the -privacy-loving white can draw thin cotton curtains across his walls -until the lights are put out. - -One such house, built for and used by white people, was conspicuous for -the simple beauty of the design. The interior was very plainly furnished -with a few bamboo tables and chairs, and a light stretcher bed or two. -Its curtains were of printed muslin from the store, and its floor was -nothing but white coral sand brought from the beach. The house stood -sheltered, by tall palms, and the sea was so near that all day one could -watch the soft sparkle of the creaming surf through the half-transparent -walls, and all night long one slept to the matchless lullaby of the -humming reef. - -_(Windows blurred with beating mud, grey London roaring by in the -rain; haggard faces, and murky summer, and the snake of custom clipping -stranglingly about the free man’s throat--O Island wanderer, back in the -weary North, does your sea-bird’s heart fly swift from these to those, -and-sicken for the lands where you must go no more?)_ - -***** - -Raratonga is full of funny things, if one knows where to look for them. -One would not suppose that the tombs of the natives were a likely spot. -Yet I would defy the most serious of graveyard moralisers to count -over the list of things that the Raratongan buries in the tombs of his -departed relatives, without feeling his seriousness badly shaken. Little -household ornaments belonging to the deceased are pathetic, certainly; -so, in a lesser degree, are the Sunday clothes that often accompany -their wearer on the long journey. But what is one to say of bicycles, -Japanned bedsteads, and even pianos? All these things have been buried -by Raratongans in the big concreted tombs that crop up sociably along -the edges of the public road every here and there. The piano, I must -add, was dug up again, by order of an indignant missionary, who gave the -disconsolate mourners a good lecture on heathenistic practices, and the -necessity of drawing the line somewhere. - -Native names are sometimes exceedingly funny to the perverted white -mind, although to the owners they may be dignified, poetic, and even -beautiful. One young coffee-coloured lady of my acquaintance had -been named (in Raratongan) “Cup-of-Tea.” Another was -“Box-with-a-Hole-in-It”--another “Tin-of-Meat.” I should suppose, from -my knowledge of their religious training, that each of these ladies -possessed a godly scripture name of her own, properly bestowed on her -at her proper baptism. But in the Cook Islands, the name a native -is christened by, and the name he or she goes by, are almost always -distinct, which is certainly confusing. Worse confusion still is caused -by the odd habit of changing these commonly accepted names on any -great occasion that seems to need special commemoration. The natives -themselves never seem to become puzzled over all these name-changes, -but so much can hardly be said of the whites. It is, at the least, -perplexing to employ a gardener called Zebedee by the missionaries, -Thunderstorm by his friends, and Tin Roof by his relatives--like the -notable character in _The Hunting of the Snark_, - - Whose intimate friends called him Candle-Ends, - - And his enemies Toasted Cheese. - -But it is even worse to be informed--some day, when you go to look after -Zebedee-Thunderstorm-Tin Roof down in the village, and ask why he has -not turned up to weed your pineapples--that his name isn’t any of the -three, but “Barbed Wire,” because he has just finished putting up a -fence of barbed wire round the grave of his boy who died last year, and -has resolved to call himself henceforth, “Barbed Wire,” in memory of his -son! - -Native notions about European clothes often provide a feast of fun for -the whites, who set the copies in dress. - -When a lace-trimmed garment of mine, usually reserved for private wear -under the shades of night and the shelter of a quilt and sheet, went to -Sunday morning church as a best dress in full daylight, on the person of -the laundress who had been entrusted with my clothes for the wash, the -funny side of the affair was so much the more conspicuous, that the -borrower never got the reproof she certainly ought to have had. And -when a certain flower toque, made of poppies (a blossom unknown to -the Pacific) first drove the women of the island half-distracted -with excitement, and then led to thirty-six native ladies appearing -simultaneously at a dance in Makea’s grounds, wearing most excellent -copies of my Paris model, done in double scarlet hibiscus from the bush, -the natural outrage to my feelings (which every woman who has ever -owned a “model” will understand) was quite swallowed up in the intense -amusement that the incident caused to everybody on the grounds. - -I was unfortunate enough to be away on the island schooner when a great -wedding took place--the nuptials of one of the queen’s nieces--and so -missed the finest display of native dress and custom that had -occurred during the whole year. The bride, I heard, wore fourteen silk -dresses--not all at once, but one after the other, changing her dress -again and again during the reception that followed the wedding ceremony -in the mission church, until she almost made the white spectators giddy. - -The presents were “numerous and costly” from the guests to the bride, -and from the bride to the guests, for it is Raratongan custom to give -presents to the people who come to your wedding; a fashion that would -considerably alleviate the lot of the weary wedding guest, if only it -could be introduced over here. The gifts for the bride were carried -in by the givers, and flung down in a heap one by one, each being duly -announced by the person making the present, who showed no false modesty -in describing his contribution. “Here’s twenty yards of the most -beautiful print for Mata (the bride), from Erri Puno!” “Here’s three -baskets of arrowroot, the best you ever saw, for Mata, from Taoua.” - -“Here’s eighteen-pence for Mata and Tamueli, from Ruru,” flinging the -coins loudly into a china plate. So the procession went on, until the -gifts were all bestowed, the bride meanwhile standing behind a kind of -counter, and rapidly handing out rolls of stuff, tins of food, ribbons, -gimcracks of various kinds, to her guests as they passed by. When all is -added up, the amusement seems to be about all that any one really clears -out of the whole proceeding. - -The Cook Islanders are among the most musical of Pacific races. They -have no musical instruments, unless “trade” mouth-organs, accordions, -and jew’s harps may be classed as such, but they need none, in their -choral singing, which is indescribably grand and impressive. Here as -elsewhere in the islands, one traces distinctly the influence of the two -dominant sounds of the island world--the low droning of the reef, and -the high soft murmur of the trade wind in the palms. The boom of the -breakers finds a marvellously close echo in the splendid volume of -the men’s voices, which are bass for the most part, and very much more -powerful and sonorous than anything one hears in the country of the -“superior” race. The women’s voices are somewhat shrill, but they sound -well enough as one usually hears them, wandering wildly in and out of -the massive harmonies of the basses. - -A Philharmonic conductor from the isles of the North would surely think -himself in heaven, if suddenly transported to these southern isles of -melody and song. The Pacific native is born with harmony in his throat, -and time in his very pulses. It is as natural to him to sing as to -breathe; and he simply cannot go out of time if he tries. Solo singing -does not attract him at all; music is above all things a social -function, in his opinion, and if he can get a few others--or better -still, a few score others--to sit down with him on the ground, and begin -a chorus, he is happy for hours, and so are they. - -To the Pacific traveller, this endless chanting is as much a part of the -island atmosphere as the palms and the reef and the snowy coral strand -themselves. One comes, in time, to notice it hardly more than the -choral song of beating breaker and long trade wind, to which it is so -wonderfully akin. But at the first, wonder is continually awakened -by the incomparable volume of the voices, and the curious booming -sound--like the echo that follows the striking of some gigantic -bell--which characterises the bass register of island men’s singing. The -swing and entrain of the whole performance are intoxicating--the chorus, -be it ten or a thousand voices, sweeps onward as resistlessly as a -cataract, and the beat of the measure is like the pulse of Father Time -himself. There are several parts as a rule, but they wander in and out -of one another at will, and every now and then a single voice will break -away, and embroider a little improvisation upon the melody that is like -a sudden scatter of spray from the crest of a rolling breaker. Then -the chorus takes it up and answers it, and the whole mass of the voices -hurls itself upon the tune like the breaker falling and bursting upon -the shore. - -It is very wonderful, and very lovely; yet there are times--at one in -the morning, let us say, when the moon has crept round from one side of -the mosquito curtain to the other since one lay down, and the bats have -finished quarrelling and gone home, and the comparative chill of the -small hours is frosting the great green flags of the bananas outside -the window with glimmering dew--when the white traveller, musical or -unmusical, may turn over on an uneasy couch, and curse the native love -of melody, wondering the while if the people in the little brown houses -down the road ever sleep at all? - -What are the subjects of the songs? That is more than the natives -themselves can tell you, very often, and certainly much more than a -wandering traveller, here to-day, and gone next month, could say. Many -of the chants are traditional, so old that the customs they refer to are -not half remembered, and full of words that have passed out of use. A -good number now-a-days are religious, consisting of hymns and psalms -taught by the missionaries, and improved on, as to harmony and setting, -by the native. The island love of choral singing must be an immense -assistance to the church services, since it turns these latter into -a treat, instead of a mere duty, and the native can never get enough -church, so long as there is plenty of singing for him to do. Some of the -secular songs are understood to refer to the deeds of ancestors; some -are amatory; some--and those the most easily understood by white people -who know the native languages--are in the nature of a kind of society -journal, recording the important events of the last few days, and making -comments, often of a very free nature, on friends and enemies, and the -white people of the island. Most of these latter are not good enough -scholars to understand the chants, even if they can talk a little -native, which is just as well, when oratorios of this kind are to be -heard every evening among the “rau” roofed huts: - - “Big-Nose who lives in the white house has got a new - - suit of clothes.” - - Chorus. “A new suit of clothes, a new suit, suit, suit of - - clothes!” - - “Big-Nose cannot fasten the coat, he is so fat, ai! ai, - - fat like a pig fit for killing!” - - Chorus. “Ai, Ai! a pig for killing, like a pig for killing, - - Big-Nose is like a pig fit for killing!” - - “Big-Nose had a quarrel with his wife to-day, a quarrel, - - a great quarrel, Big-Nose drank wisiki, much wisiki.” - - (All together, excitedly.) “A quarrel, a great quarrel, - - much wisiki Big-Nose drank, Big-Nose!” - - “The wife of Big-Nose of the white house has long hair, - - though she is very old, long hair that came to her in - - a box by the sitima (steamer)!” - - Chorus. “Long hair, long hair, long hair, in a box on the - - steamer. A box on the steamer, on the steamer, - - long hair for the wife of Big-Nose who lives in the - - white house.” - - -A resident who really understood the natives and their music once or -twice translated choruses for me that were quite as personal as the -above. I have never since then wondered, as I used to wonder, where on -earth the merry peasants of opera, with their extraordinary knowledge -of the principals’ affairs, and their tireless energy in singing about -them, were originally sketched. - -(Scholars will probably trace a resemblance to the Greek chorus here. I -leave it to them to work out the wherefore, which makes me giddy even -to think of, considering the geographical elements involved in the -problem.) - -But now enough of Raratonga, for the schooner _Duchess_ is waiting -to carry me away to the other islands of the group, and, after many -thousands of miles travelled by steamer upon “all the seas of all the -world,” I am at last to learn what going to sea really is. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -_The Schooner at last--White Wings versus Black Funnels--Not according -to Clark Russell--The Marvellous White Woman--The Song of the Surf--Why -not?--Delightful Aitutaki--Into an Atoll--A Night in the House of -a Chieftainess--The Scarlet Devil--Nothing to wear--How to tickle a -Shark--The Fairy Islets--A Chance for Robinson Crusoe._ - - -THE schooner _Duchess_ was in at last. - - Of their bones are coral made. - -We were almost growing anxious about her in Raratonga--almost, not -quite; for after all, she was only a fortnight overdue, and that is not -much for an island schooner, even when she is run by white officers. -When the easy-going native runs her, no one ever knows when she will -leave any port, and no one would venture to predict that she will ever -arrive at all. There are generally a good many native-owned schooners -about the South Eastern Pacific, but, though all the numbers keep up, -the identity varies, and if you return after a few years and ask for the -ships you used to know, the answer will be, I have not space to tell you -here of the native schooner that started from one of the Cook Islands, -not so very long ago, to visit another island less than two hundred -miles away, but, because of the wild and weird navigation of her owners, -went instead to somewhere over a thousand miles off; toured half the -Pacific; stayed away six months; and finally came back to her own little -island by a happy chance, without ever having reached the place she set -out for after all. But it has a good deal of local colour in it. - -The _Duchess_, however, was not a native schooner, being owned by -whites, and run by a British captain, mate, and boatswain, assisted -by eight island seamen. There was, therefore, a reasonable prospect -of getting somewhere, sometime, if I travelled in her; so I took my -passage, and, for the first time, literally “sailed away”--to see the -outer islands of the Cook Group, and later on, solitary Savage Island, -Penrhyn, Malden, Rakahanga, and Manahiki. - -For more than four months afterwards, with a single break, the little -_Duchess_ of 175 tons was my home. Little she seemed at first, but -before long she assumed the proportions of quite a majestic vessel. -There was no schooner in those waters that could touch her, either -for speed, size, or (alas!) for pitching and rolling, in any and every -weather. Her ninety-five foot masts made a brave show, when clothed with -shining canvas; her white hull, with its scarlet encircling band, -and the sun-coloured copper glimmering at the water-line, stood out -splendidly on the blazing blue of the great Pacific. “A three-masted -topsail schooner” was her official designation. The unofficial names she -was called in a calm, when the great Pacific swell brought out her full -rolling powers, are best left unreported. - -I cannot honestly advise the elderly round-the-world-tourist, doing -the Pacific in orthodox style, to desert steam for sail, and try the -experience of voyaging “off the track” among the islands never visited -by liners. But the true traveller, who wanders for the joy of wandering, -and is not afraid or unwilling to “rough it” a good deal, will find a -sailing trip in the Pacific among the most fascinating of experiences. -Beyond the radius of the belching funnel a great peace reigns; an -absence of time, a pleasant carelessness about all the weighty and -tiresome things that may be happening outside the magic circle of still -blue ocean. There is no “let-her-slide” spirit in the whole world to -compare with that which blossoms spontaneously on the sun-white decks of -a Pacific schooner. - -Looking back upon all the island boats that I have known, I may say -that there was not so much discipline among the lot as would have run a -single cross-channel boat at home, that every one was satisfied if -the officers refrained from “jamborees” between ports; if some one was -sometimes at the wheel, and if the native crew knew enough of the ropes -to work the ship reasonably well, in the intervals of line-fishing and -chorus-singing. And in one and all, whatever might happen to passengers, -cargo, ship, or crew, “take things as they come,” was the grand general -rule. - -* * * * * - -“This is your cabin,” said the cheerful little pirate of a captain. He -was celebrated as the “hardest case” in the South Pacific, and looked -not quite unworthy of his reputation, though he was dressed as if for -Bond Street in the afternoon, and mannered (on that occasion) as if for -an evening party. - -What I wanted to say, was “Good God!” What I did say was: “Oh, really! -very nice indeed.” For I saw at once that I must lie, and it seemed as -well to obtain the fullest possible advantage from the sin. There was no -use mincing words, or morals, in such a case. - -The cabin had a floor exactly the size of my smallest flat box, which -filled it so neatly that I had to stand on the lid all the time I was in -my room. It had a bunk about as large as a tight fit in coffins, and a -small parrot-perch at one side, which was not meant for parrots, but for -me, to perch on, if I wanted to lace my boots without committing suicide -when the ship was rolling. On the perch stood a tin basin, to do duty as -a washstand. There was a biscuit-tin full of water underneath. - -This was all that the cabin contained, except smells. The latter, -however, crowded it to its fullest capacity. It had some mysterious -communication with the hold, which perfumed it strongly with the -oppressive, oily stench of ancient copra, and it had also a small door -leading into the companion that went down to the engine-hole (one -could not call it a room), in which lived the tiny oil engine that was -supposed to start instantaneously, and work us out of danger, in case of -any sudden need. (I say supposed, because---- But that comes after.) - -This engine-hole had a smell of its own, a good deal stronger than the -engine (but that is not saying much)--compounded of dirt, bilge-water, -and benzolene. The smell joined in a sort of chorus with the copra odour -of the hold, and both were picked out and accentuated by a sharp note of -cockroach. It was the most symphonic odour that I had ever encountered. -As for the port, that, I saw, would be screwed down most of the time -owing to the position of the cabin, low down on the main deck. - -“Very nice,” I repeated, smiling a smile of which I am proud to this -day. “Such a dear little cabin!” - -“I’m glad you like it,” said the captain, evidently relieved. “You see, -there’s four Government officials coming round this trip, and that takes -our only other cabin. I chucked the bo’sun out of this; he’s sleeping -anywhere. Anything else you’d like?” he continued, looking at the -biscuit-tin and the shiny basin with so much satisfaction that I guessed -at once they were a startling novelty--the bo’sun having probably -performed his toilet on deck. “We don’t have lady passengers on these -trips as we aren’t a Union liner exactly, but we’re always ready to do -what we can to please every one.” - -“I want first of all a new mattress, and sheets that haven’t been washed -in salt water, and then I want some air and light, and thirty or forty -cubic feet more space, and I think, a new cabin, and I’m almost sure, -another ship,” I said to myself. Aloud I added: “Nothing whatever, thank -you; it is charming,” and then I went in and shut the door, and sat -down on my bunk, and said things, that would not have passed muster in a -Sunday-School, for quite ten minutes. - -What I had expected I don’t know. Something in the Clark Russell line, -I fear--a sparkling little sea-parlour, smelling of rope and brine, -looking out on a deck “as white as a peeled almond,” and fitted with -stern windows that overhung half the horizon. It was borne in upon me, -as I sat there among the smells and ants and beetles, that I was in for -something as un-Clark-Russelly as possible. “Well,” I thought, “it will -at least be all the newer. And there is certainly no getting out of it.” - -So we spread our white wings, and fluttered away like a great -sea-butterfly, from underneath the green and purple peaks of Raratonga, -far out on the wide Pacific. And thereupon, because the rollers rolled, -and the ship was small, I went into my cabin, and for two days, like -the heroine of an Early Victorian romance, “closed my eyes, and knew no -more.” - -On the third day I was better, and in the afternoon Mitiaro, one of the -outer Cook Islands, rose on the horizon. By three o’clock our boat had -landed us--the official party, the captain, and myself--on a beach -of foam-white coral sand, crowded with laughing, excited natives, -all intensely eager to see the “wahiné papa,” or foreign woman. White -men--traders, missionaries, the Resident Commissioner of the group--had -visited the island now and again, but never a white woman before; and -though many had been away and seen such wonders, more had not. - -The officials went away to hold a court of justice; the captain and -myself, before we had walked half across the beach, being captured by -an excited band of jolly brown men and women, all in their Sunday -best shirts and pareos, and long trailing gowns. They seized us by our -elbows, and literally ran us up to the house of the principal chief, -singing triumphantly. Along the neatest of coral sand paths we went, -among groves of palm and banana, up to a real native house, built with -a high “rau” roof, and airy birdcage walls. About half the island was -collected here, drinking cocoanuts, eating bananas, staring, talking, -laughing. In spite of their excitement, however, they were exceedingly -courteous, offering me the best seat in the house--a real European -chair, used as a sort of throne by the chief himself--fanning myself -and my guide industriously as we sat, pressing everything eatable in -the house on us, and doing their best, bare-footed brown savages as they -were, to make us enjoy our visit. - -All islanders are not courteous and considerate, but the huge majority -certainly are. You shall look many a day and many a week among the -sea-countries of the Pacific, before you meet with as much rudeness, -selfishness, or unkindness, as you may meet any day without looking at -all, on any railway platform of any town of civilised white England. And -not from one end of the South Seas to the other, shall you hear anything -like the harsh, loud, unmusical voice of the dominant race, in a -native mouth. Soft and gentle always is the island speech, musical and -kind--the speech of a race that knows neither hurry nor greed, and for -whom the days are long and sweet, and “always afternoon.” - -When we went out to see the island, it was at the head of a gay -procession of men, women, and children, singing ceaselessly, in loud -metallic chants and choruses. Shy of the strange white apparition at -first, the women grew bolder by degrees, and hung long necklaces of -flowers and leaves and scented berries round my neck. They took my hat -away, and returned it covered with feathery reva-reva plumes, made from -the inner crown of the palm-tree. They produced a native dancing kilt, -like a little crinoline, made of arrowroot fibre, dyed pink, and tied it -round my waist, over my tailor skirt, explaining the while (through the -captain, who interpreted), that the knot of the girdle was fastened in -such a way as to cast a spell on me, and that I should inevitably be -obliged to return to the island. (It is perhaps worthy of note that I -did, though at the time of my first visit there seemed no chance of the -ship calling again.) Decked out after this fashion, I had a _suces_; on -my return to the schooner, and was greeted with howls of delight on the -part of my fellow-passengers, who had managed to escape adornment, being -less of a novelty. It was of course impossible to remove the ornaments -without offending the givers. - -More houses, and more hosts, standing like Lewis Carroll’s crocodile -on their thresholds, to welcome me in “with gently smiling jaws.” We -visited till we were tired of visiting, and then strolled about the -town. Cool, fresh, and clean are the houses of little Mitiaro, dotted -about its three miles’ length. Their high deep-gabled roofs of plaited -pandanus leaf keep out the heat of the staring sun; through their walls -of smoothed and fitted canes the sea-wind blows and the green lagoon -gleams dimly: the snowy coral pebbles that carpet all the floor reflect -a softly pleasant light into the dusk, unwindowed dwelling. Outside, the -palm-trees rustle endlessly, and the surf sings on the reef the long, -low, perilous sweet song of the dreamy South Sea world--the song that -has lured so many away into these lonely coral lands, to remember -their Northern loves and homes no more--the song that, once heard, will -whisper through the inmost chambers of the heart, across the years, and -across the world till death. - -Yet--why not? - -Why not? The thought followed me as ceaselessly as the trampling of the -surf (now, in the open, loud and triumphant, like the galloping of a -victorious army) while I wandered over the little island, up and down -the coral sand paths that led through groves of feathery ironwood, -through quaintly regular, low, rich green shrubberies, starred with pale -pink blossoms among wild grey pinnacles of fantastic rock, clothed in -trailing vines--always towards the open sky and the limitless blue sea. -Why not? In England, even yet, - - We are not cotton-spinners all, - -nor are we all old, blood-chilled by the frost of conventionality, dyed -ingrain with the conviction that there is nothing but vagabondage and -ne’er-do-well-ism away from the ring of the professions, or an office -desk in the E.C. district. For the young and adventurous, the South Seas -hold as fair prospects as any other semi-civilised portion of the globe. -For those who have seen and have lived, and are wearied to death of the -life and cities and competition, the island world offers remoteness, -beauty, rest, and peace, unmatched in the round of the swinging -earth. And to all alike it offers that most savoury morsel of life’s -banquet--freedom. Freedom and a biscuit taste better to many a -young Anglo-Saxon than stalled ox seasoned with the bitter herbs of -dependence; but the one is always at hand, and the other very far away. - -Well, the gulf can be spanned; but he who cannot do the spanning, and -must long and dream unsatisfied all his life, had best take comfort: -it had not been for his good. The Islands are for the man of resource; -again, of resource; and once more, of resource. Look among the lowest -huts of the lowest quarters that cling to towns in the big islands, and -there, gone native, and lost to his race, you shall find the man who was -an excellent fellow--once--but who in emergency or difficulty, “didn’t -know what to do.” - -If there is a lesson in the above, he who needs it will find it. - -***** - -Mitiaro is the island, already referred to, where dried bananas are -prepared. The natives make up their fruit in this way for market, -because steamers never call, and sailing vessels only come at long and -irregular intervals. A very small quantity goes down in this way to -Auckland, and I heard, in a general way, that there were supposed to -be one or two other islands here and there about the Pacific, where the -same trade was carried on. One cannot, however, buy preserved bananas in -the colonies, unless by a special chance, so the purchasing public knows -nothing of them, and is unaware what it misses. In the opinion of most -who have tried them, the fruit, dried and compressed in the Mitiaro -way, is superior to dried figs. It is not only a substitute for fresh -bananas, but a dainty in itself. The whaling ships pick up an occasional -consignment in out-of-the-way places, and are therefore familiar with -them, but one never sees them on a steamer. There may be useful hints, -for intending settlers, in these stray facts. - -We lay over-night at Mitiaro, and got off in the morning. Aitutaki was -our next place of call, and we reached it in about a day. It is, next -to Raratonga, the most important island of the group, possessing a large -mission station, a Government agent, and a post-office. It enjoys a -call once a month from the Union steamer, and is therefore a much more -sophisticated place than Mitiaro. In size, it is inferior to Raratonga -and Atiu, being only seven square miles in extent. Its population is -officially returned as 1,170. These are almost all natives, the white -population including only the Government agent, two or three -missionaries, and a couple of traders. - -[Illustration: 0185] - -It is bright morning when we make Aitutaki, and the sea is so vividly -blue, as we push off in the boat, that I wonder my fingers do not come -out sapphire-coloured when I dip them in. And I think, as the eight -brown arms pull us vigorously shoreward, that no one in the temperate -climes knows, or ever can know, what these sea-colours of the tropics -are like, because the North has no words that express them. How, indeed, -should it have? - -We are rowing, as fast as we can go, towards a great white ruffle of -foam ruled like a line across the blue, blue sea. Inside this line -there lies, to all appearance, an immense raised plain of green jade or -aquamarine, with a palmy, plumy island, cinctured by a pearly beach, far -away in the middle. Other islands, smaller and farther away, stand -out upon the surface of this strange green circle here and there, all -enclosed within the magic ring of tumbling foam, more than five miles -across, that sets them apart from the wide blue sea. It is only a lagoon -of atoll formation, but it looks like a piece of enamelled jewel-work, -done by the hand of some ocean giant, so great that the huge sea-serpent -itself should be only a bracelet for his arm. The raised appearance of -the lagoon is one of the strangest things I have yet seen, though it is -merely an optical delusion, created by contrast in colour. - -We are fortunate, too, in seeing what every one does not see--a distinct -green shade in the few white clouds that overhang the surface of the -lagoon. Here in Aitutaki a great part of the sky is sometimes coloured -green by the reflections from the water, and it is a sight worth -witnessing. - -Through an opening in the reef we enter--the boatmen pulling hard -against the outward rush of the tide, which runs here like a cataract at -times--and glide easily across the mile or so of shallow water that -lies between us and the shore. One or two splendid whale-boats pass -us, manned by native crews, and the other passengers tell me that these -boats are all made by the Aitutakians themselves, who are excellent -builders. - -There is a very decent little wharf to land on, and of course, the -usual excited, decorated crowd to receive us, and follow us about. I -am getting quite used now to going round at the head of a continual -procession, to being hung over with chains of flowers and berries, -and ceaselessly fed with bananas and cocoanuts, so the crowd does not -interfere with my enjoyment of the new island. We are going to stop a -day or two here, and there will be time to see everything. - -When you sleep as a rule in a bunk possessing every attribute of a -coffin (except the restfulness which one is led to expect in a bed of -that nature), you do not require much pressing to accept an invitation -to “dine and sleep” on shore. Tau Ariki (which means Chieftainess, or -Countess, or Duchess, Tau) lives in Aitutaki, and she had met me in -Raratonga, so she sent me a hearty invitation to spend the night at her -house, and I accepted it. - -Tau is not by any means as great a personage as Makea, or even as great -as Tinomana, the lesser queen. She is an Ariki all the same, however, -and owns a good deal of land in Aitutaki. Also, she is gloriously -married to a white ex-schooner mate, who can teach even the Aitutakians -something about boat-building, and she is travelled and finished, having -been a trip to Auckland--the ambition of every Cook Islander. So Tau -Ariki is a person of importance in her own small circle, and was -allowed by the natives of the town to have the undoubted first right to -entertain the white woman. - -Tau’s house, in the middle of the rambling, jungly, green street of the -little town, proved to be a wooden bungalow with a verandah and a tin -roof, very ugly, but very fine to native eyes. There were tables and -chairs in the “parlour”; and the inevitable boiled fowl that takes the -place of the fatted calf, in Pacific cookery, was served up on a china -plate. A rich woman, Tau, and one who knew how the “tangata papa” (white -folk) should be entertained! - -She gave me a bedroom all to myself, with a smile that showed complete -understanding of the foolish fads of the “wahiné papa.” It had a large -“imported” glass window, giving on the main street of the town, and -offering, through its lack of blinds, such a fine, free show for the -interested populace, that I was obliged to go to bed in the dark. There -was a real bed in the room, covered with a patchwork quilt of a unique -and striking design, representing a very realistic scarlet devil some -four feet long. It seemed to me the kind of quilt that would need a good -conscience and a blameless record, on the part of the sleeper reposing -under it. To wake in the middle of the night unexpectedly, with the -moonlight streaming in, forget for the moment where you were, and, -looking round to find a landmark, drop your startled eyes upon that -scarlet fiend, sprawling all over your chest---- Well, I had a good -conscience, or none--I do not know which--so I felt the red devil would -not disturb my slumbers, and he did not. - -[Illustration: 0191] - -There was nothing else in the room, except a new, gold-laced, steamship -officer’s cap, whereto there seemed neither history nor owner, reposing -on the pillow. If there was any mystery about the cap, I never knew it. - -I put it out on the windowsill, and a hen laid an egg in it next -morning, and no doubt the hen lived happily ever after, and I hope the -officer did, and that is all. It seems pathetic, but I do not know why. - -There was nothing to wash in, but Tau knew her manners, and was quite -aware that I might have a prejudice against sitting in a washing-tub -on either the front or the back verandah, to have buckets emptied on my -head in the morning. So she made haste to leave a kerosene tin full of -water, before going to her camphorwood chest, and extracting a pink silk -dress trimmed with yellow lace, for me to sleep in. - -“I’m afraid that won’t do; it’s too--too good to sleep in,” I remarked. - -“Nothing too good for you, you too much good self!” was the amiable -reply. - -“But I could not sleep in it, Tau. There’s--there’s too much of it,” I -objected, not knowing how to word my refusal without impoliteness. - -“All right,” commented my hostess, throwing a glance at the purple gloom -of the torrid hot-season night outside. “He plenty hot. I get you pareo, -all same mine.” And she disinterred a brief cotton kilt of red and -yellow, considerably smaller than a Highlander’s. - -“That’s too little,” objected the exacting guest, rather to poor Tau’s -perplexity. How was one to please such a visitor? At last, however, -after refusing a figured muslin robe that was as transparent as a -dancing-robe of classic Ionia (there are other analogies between those -robes, if one might go into the subject; but I fear the British public -must not be told about them), and a pink shirt belonging to the white -husband, a neat cotton day gown was discovered, offered, and accepted, -and peace reigned once more in the exceedingly public guest-chamber of -Tau Ariki’s house. - -Concerning quilts, by the way, one may here add a short note. Patchwork -is the delight of the Cook Island women, and has been so, ever since -that absorbing pastime was first introduced to them by the missionaries’ -wives. They are extremely clever at it, and often invent their own -patterns. Sometimes, however, they copy any startling device that -they may chance to see--the more original, the better. A really good -patchwork quilt is considered a possession of great value, and (one is -sorry to say) often preferred to the fine, beautifully hand-woven mats -in which the islanders used to excel. They still make mats in large -numbers, but the patchwork quilt has spoilt their taste for the finer -mats, and these latter are getting scarce. - -In the morning, shark-catching was the order of the day. Aitutaki is -celebrated for this sport all over Australasia, and I was very glad to -get a chance of joining in it. One does not catch sharks, in Aitutaki, -after the usual island fashion, which is much like the way familiar to -all sea-faring folk--hook and line, and a lump of bad pork, and tow the -monster to the shore when you have got him. No, there is something more -exciting in store for the visitor-who goes a-fishing in Aitutaki lagoon. -The water is very shallow for the most part, and heats up quickly with -the sun, especially when the day is dead calm, and there is not a ripple -to break the force of the rays. By noon, the lagoon is unbearably warm -in all the shallow parts, and the sharks which inhabit it in large -numbers, begin to feel uncomfortable. Some of them make for the opening -in the reef, and get out into the cooler sea beyond. Others, one will -suppose, are lazy, and do not want to be troubled to swim so far. So -they head for the coral patches here and there, and lie on the sand in -the shelter of the rocks, their bodies thrust as far into the clefts -and crannies of the coral as they can manage to get. This is the -Aitutakian’s opportunity. He is perfectly fearless in the water, and he -knows that the shark is, after all, a stupid brute. So he arms himself -with a knife, takes a strong rope, noosed in a slip-knot at one end, -in his hand, and dives from his whale-boat into the warm green water, -where he has marked the latter end of a shark sticking out from a patch -of coral, some three or four fathoms underneath the surface. - -The shark, being head in, does not see anything, but by-and-by he -becomes aware of a delicate tickling all along his massive ribs, and -as he rather likes this, he stays-quite still, and enjoys it. It is the -Aitutakian, tickling him as boys tickle a trout in a stream at home, and -for exactly the same reason. He has got the noose in his left hand, -and his aim is to slip it over the shark’s tail, while he distracts the -brute’s attention by pleasantly tickling with the other hand. Perhaps he -manages this at the first attempt--perhaps he is obliged to rise to the -surface, and take a breath of air, going down again to have a second -try. But, in any case, he is pretty sure to get the noose on before -the shark suspects anything. Once that is accomplished, he rises to the -surface like a shooting air-bubble, swings himself into the boat, and -gives the order to “haul in!” - -The men in the boat lay hold of the rope, tighten with a sharp jerk, and -tail on. Now the shark begins to realise that something has happened; -and realises it still more fully in another minute or two, when he finds -himself fighting for his life on the gunwale of a rocking boat, against -half a dozen islanders armed with knives and axes. The battle is short -the great brute is soon disabled by a smashing blow on the tail, and in -another hour or two the village is feeding fat on his meat, and his fins -are drying in the sun, to be sold to the trader by-and-by, for export to -China. No dinner-party in China is complete without a dish of daintily -dressed shark’s fins, and a good proportion of the supply comes from the -Pacific. - -This is shark-fishing, as practised in Aitutaki. But I was not destined -to see it at its best, for the day turned out breezy, and there was such -a ripple, upon the water that the natives declared the sharks would be -extremely difficult to see or capture. Nevertheless, the captain and -I decided to go, as there was a chance, though a faint one. We hired a -boat, and took with us, as well as the rowers, Oki, a diver of renown. -If Oki could not raise a shark for us, it was certain that no one could. - -The captain of the missionary steamer _John Williams_ had told me about -the fishing some weeks before, and added that he had seen a shark caught -himself, and tried to photograph it, but the photo was not a success, -because, as he put it, “the shark moved!” - -This story wandered about in my mind as we shot across the lagoon to the -fishing grounds, and the boat began to look uncomfortably small. “What -does the shark do when you get it in the boat?” I inquired rather -anxiously. - -“Makes the devil of a row, and the devil of a mess,” said our own -captain cheerfully. “But don’t you mind him. Let sharks alone, and -they’ll let you alone; that’s always been my experience.” - -Conscious that I was never unkind to animals, not even tigers or sharks, -I tried to feel at ease. But I did not quite succeed, until we got to -the coral beds, and Oki put everything else out of my head by going head -first overboard, and starting out among the rocks below (it was calmer -here, and we could see him pretty plainly) to look for a shark. - -His thin brown body showed up shadowy and wavering, upon the sands -at the bottom, as he glided like a fish all along the patch of reef, -inspecting every cave or crack where a shark might hide. He did not -seem to be incommoded in the least by the three or four fathoms of -water above him, but moved about as quietly and easily as if he had been -swimming on the surface. I felt sure he must be at the point of death, -as the seconds flew by, and he still glided in and out of the rocks -with nothing but the gleam of his white pareo to show his whereabouts, -whenever he slipped into the shadow of one of the many clefts in which a -shark might lie hidden. But Oki knew very well what he was about, and he -did not seem at all exhausted when he shot to the surface again, after -rather more than two minutes’ absence, and told us gloomily that “No -shark stop!” - -We tried again, and again. Oki took the slip knot down with him every -time and every time he brought it up in his hand, unused. Melancholy, -deep and silent, settled upon the boat. But at last the luck changed; -our diver came up, and announced with a smile, that there was a shark -down there, very far into the coral, and if he could only reach the -animal’s tail, it would be all right. - -One of the boatmen at this went to help him, and together they swam down -to the bottom, and began fumbling interminably in the shadow. It was -clear that they were making every effort to tempt the shark out, for -one could see Oki straining wildly with his arm in the cleft, “tickling” - industriously, while the other hovered head downwards outside, trailing -the noose like a loop of seaweed in his hand. But all proved vain. -Exhausted, the men rose at last, and gave it up. The shark was too far -in, they said, and the noose could not be got on. If we remembered, they -had told us it was not a good day, and they hoped we thought enough had -been done. As for themselves, they were very tired doing our pleasure, -and their lungs were sore, but they thought some plug tobacco--the -black, sticky kind, and a good deal of it--would set them all right -again. - -This was outside the letter of the agreement, which had included a good -price for the boat and nothing else; but we promised some tobacco, when -the stores should be reached, and asked for some more particulars about -the fishing. - -“Do you ever find the shark head out, instead of tail out?” I queried. - -“Yes, sometime he come head out,” said Oki, reversing a green cocoanut -on his nose, and swallowing in great gulps. - -I waited till he had finished before I asked: “What happens then?” - -“Shark he fight, and we fight too,” said Oki simply. - -“And which wins?” - -“All the time the Aitutaki boy he win, but sometime the shark he win -too,” was the cryptic reply. - -***** - -Shark fins, I was told, sell for about six shillings a pound. Some of -the traders in the islands further north, where sharks are abundant, -make a good deal of money taking the fish on a hook and line, and drying -the fins for sale. It should be a fairly profitable industry, as the -fins of a medium shark appear to weigh a good deal--not less than three -or four pounds, at a guess. - -It was on my second visit to Aitutaki that I went out to the lesser -islands of the lagoon; but the tale of that expedition may well come -here. - -These islets are of various sizes, from a mere rock with a couple of -palms on it, to a fertile piece of land over a mile long, richly grown -and wooded. They all lie within the great lagoon, and are therefore -sheltered by a natural breakwater of the reef from the violence of the -storms that occur in the rainy season. The nearest is about three miles -from the mainland. All are quite uninhabited, and no particular value is -set on them by anybody. They belong to the various chief families of the -big island, but any one who wished to rent one in perpetuity (the New -Zealand Government laws, which rule here, do not permit outright sale) -could probably secure it for a few pounds a year. - -I was anxious to see them, for it seemed to me that islands suited to -the realisation of Robinson Crusoe dreams could hardly be found the wide -Pacific over. A desolate isle five hundred miles from anywhere, sounds -well in a story, but the romance of such a spot is apt to wear very thin -indeed after a few months, if one may believe the experiences of those -who have tried it. Practical details are seldom considered by would-be -Crusoes; they have, however, a knack of thrusting themselves into the -foreground just when retreat is impossible. If you elect to live on a -remote island, how are you going to keep up communication with the outer -world? You will want at least a few commodities of civilisation from -time to time, and they cannot swim across half the great South Seas, -from Auckland or ’Frisco, up to your front verandah unaided. You will -want mails, newspapers, and letters, unless haply you are a criminal -flying from the near neighbourhood of the black cap and the drop--and -how are these to come? Trading schooners will not call at your island -unless you have plenty of cargo for them, and even then, you may not see -them twice a year. Steamers, of course, you must not expect. If you keep -a small vessel of your own, you must be thoroughly sea-trained to run -and navigate her, and you will need to bring a few island men to your -kingdom as crew, and they will want to go home again, and make trouble, -and finally run off with your ship some dark night, and maroon you there -for good. No, the “desert” island idea is best left to the shelves of -the school library. - -But at Aitutaki, and in some similar collections of atoll islands -Robinson Crusoe’s way is made easy and pleasant--or so it seemed to me, -crossing the lagoon that afternoon on my way to the islets that were -lying waste and uninhabited out on its broad expanse. From three to five -miles away from the mainland, these islets are sufficiently isolated -for any one who has not quarrelled with the whole human race. There is a -steamer once a month, at the little pier near the settlement. There are -one or two stores on the main island, where common provisions, cotton -stuffs, spades, and knives, and such simple things, can be purchased. -The lagoon is usually so calm that a native canoe would serve all -ordinary needs of communication, for any one living on an islet. A house -could be built in a few days, of the native type: and a good concrete -bungalow could be put up with native help, in a very few weeks. Why -should any one want to live in such a spot? Well, it is not necessary to -argue out that question, because I have found by experience that quite -a remarkable number of people do. It was for those people that I crossed -the lagoon that day, and I know I shall have their thanks. - -A whale-boat and a crew were necessary for the trip. I engaged both in -the village, and went down to the wharf followed by a “tail” of -seven stalwart islanders, dressed in white and crimson pareos, berry -necklaces, and a curiously representative collection of steamship caps -and jerseys. The Aitutakian is an inveterate traveller, and all these -men had been away in a steamer somewhere as deck hands--or else their -friends had, and they had begged a steamer cap and jersey or two here -and there: it was all the same to them. The P. & O.--the Union S.S. -Co. of New Zealand--the Shaw, Savill, and Albion--the Orient--Burns -Philp--were all represented (so far as caps and jerseys went) by my -boat’s crew, and very well pleased with themselves and their poached -attire they evidently were. - -Provisions had to be purchased, they declared, as we should not be back -before afternoon. So into the big store the whole party went to see me -victual the ship. I bought biscuits and meat, exactly half what they -asked, and they were so uplifted with joy at the amount of the supplies -that they sang all the way down to the boat; and, once in it, treated -me to an exhibition of rowing, the like of which I never expect to see -again. The Aitutaki man is the smartest boatman, and the best hand with -an oar, in the Southern Pacific. Never a man-of-war comes round the Cook -group that her men do not try conclusions with the Aitutakians, and -if report speaks truth, the result is not always flattering to British -pride. Nor is this astonishing, to any one who has seen these islanders -row. We had six miles of a pull, and every inch was against a strong -head wind, and through a decidedly choppy sea. Yet, in spite of these -handicaps, the men rowed the whole way at racing pace, oars springing, -spray flying, the great whale-boat tearing through the water as though -a mortal enemy were in pursuit. The coxswain, in the stern, kept slyly -urging the rowers on to let the foreign woman see what they could do, -and they pulled “all out”--or what looked extremely like it--from start -to finish. I do not think any white crew that ever held an oar could -have lived with that splendid six-mile rush. And when we neared the -first island and gradually slacked speed, there was not one among those -seven mighty chests that heaved faster than at the start. Truly, I -thought, they had earned their picnic. - -But the islets! If Raratonga was the realisation of a childish dream, -this was the embodiment of a vision of fairyland. There can surely be -nothing on earth more lovely than the islet constellation enclosed by -Aitutaki reef. The water, shallow, sun-jewelled, and spread out over -a bed of spotless coral sand, is coloured with a brilliance that is -simply incredible. Emerald and jade and sapphire--yes, one expects -these, in the hues of tropic seas. But when it comes to whole tracts of -glancing heliotrope and hyacinth, shot with unnamable shades of melted -turquoise and silver, and all a-quiver with pulsations of flashing -greens, for which there is no name in any language under the pallid -northern or burning southern sun--then, the thing becomes indescribable, -and one can only say: - -“There is something in that little corner of earth beyond the touch -of words, so you will never know anything about it, unless you too go -there, and see it for yourself. And when you have seen, you will come -away burning to describe, as I was--but you will not be able.” - -In the midst of this magical sea, rise the islets themselves--fairyland -every one. Their little beaches are sparkling white, as only a coral -beach can be; palm-trees, heavyheaded with their loads of huge green -nuts, cluster thick along the shores; coral-trees drop their blood-red -flowers into the glass-like water of the lagoon; ripe oranges swing -their glowing lamps among the darker green of the woods that rise -behind. Big white clams with goffered shells, each holding meat enough -for one man’s dinner, gleam along the edges of the shore; large, -long-legged crabs wander rustling and rattling among the stones. The -murmur of the barrier reef is very far away; its thin white line of foam -gleams out a long way off, under a low horizon, sky shot strangely with -lilac blue--a lonely, lovely, exquisite place, the like of which one -might seek the world all over, and never find again. - -We landed on the sand, and I set about exploring, while the men knocked -down cocoanuts, and squatted in the shade to drink them, and suck fresh -oranges. The island on which we had landed was one of the smaller ones, -not more than an acre or two in extent. It rose to a high point in the -centre, and was so thickly wooded all over, that I could hardly make my -way through. There was no sign of life or habitation, and the ripe fruit -was everywhere rotting on the ground. - -I pictured the little islet with a high brown roof peeping out among its -palms, a neatly kept pathway cut through the bush, and a snug boathouse -on the shore, covering a fine whaleboat, while a graceful native canoe -lay on the sand, ready for any one to lift down into the water at any -minute. I wonder, will the picture ever body itself out in real, for -some tired-out soul, weary of cities and competition, or some pair of -lovers, who find the world well lost in each other, here among the far -islands of the sweet Southern Seas? I shall never know, for the -“sea-bird’s feather” was in the pillow on which I slept my first baby -sleep, and I wander always on. But it may be that these words will be -read by some to whom they are, or shall be, a part of fife’s own -history. - -We did not get to the other islands that day, partly because I wasted so -much time looking for shells, and partly because the largest were still -some miles away, and the wind was stronger than ever. One, I heard, -had ground enough for a paying plantation, and was already fairly well -supplied with cocoanuts. All are perfectly healthy and free from fevers -of any kind, and though mosquitoes are present in rather large numbers, -careful clearing of their breeding grounds would in time drive them -away. - -***** - -In case author, or publishers, should be inundated with inquiries about -South Sea Islands, it may be as well to say that all over the Pacific, -the Governors, Commissioners, and Resident Agents of the various groups -are always ready to furnish information to honest inquirers. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -_Jumping a Coral Reef--The Great Wall of the Makatea--Makaia’s Wonderful -Staircases--A Clothing Club of the Pacific--Cool Costumes in Atiu--The -Lands that lie waste--Mystery of a Vanished Tribe--Fashions in -Hair-Dressing--The Sign-Language of the Sex--Invited to a Feast._ - -MANGAIA, where we next stopped, proved quite an exciting place. You -cannot land upon Mangaia in the ordinary way: the reef that surrounds it -is unbroken, and girdles the whole island in a fortress moat of its own. -The only way to land is to get into one of the numberless native canoes -that crowd about the ship, and let the copper-coloured owner take you -over the reef in his own way, which is the determined and decisive way -of a steeplechaser at a fence. It is most excellent fun and a new thing -in sensations. As the little dug-out--made of nothing more elaborate -than a hollowed mango log, with an outrigger at one side--rushes -shoreward on the crest of a foaming roller, you watch with rather -anxious interest the movements of the dusky boatman, who poises his -paddle in the air, waits, looks, and strikes the water, always at -exactly the right moment--usually when you are just beginning to think -of kicking off your shoes. - -There is the reef right in front, a pearly shadow in the blue, with -up-springing spears of ivory, bared like the teeth of a tiger, when the -wave rolls back. Are we going to jump that? We are indeed. The boatman -lifts his paddle--we sweep upwards on the sloping blue satin neck of a -curling wave. No no, that will not do--not this time. He backs water--we -hang on the crest of the wave--but we are not going to be drowned, or -snapped up by the sharks that haunt the reefs, because the boatman is -a born islander, and what he does not know about canoeing over a reef, -neither you nor I need attempt to teach him. Another wave, a monster -this time, swinging us up into the air as if we were a couple of -grasshoppers out paddling in a walnut shell. That will do: here she -goes! The wave roars with us; the wicked white fangs gleam on either -hand: our rough thick keel scrapes agonisingly on the coral, and there -is a smother of foam and tumbling blue and bursting green all about the -cranky little craft. Bump! we have struck--we strike again, but it does -not seem to matter in the least: over we go, and we are in the smooth, -safe, shallow green water inside, and across the reef. And here are a -dozen men of Mangaia, splashing’ about in the lagoon, ready to pick up -the visitor in their powerful arms as soon as the canoe grounds in the -shallow* water, and carry her ashore. - -That is how one lands on Mangaia. - -[Illustration: 0209] - -This island is of a good size, being some thirty mile» in circumference. -Its formation is very notable, being indeed rather celebrated among -geologists. It is supposed to be of volcanic origin, like most of the -“high” islands. From the sea, it looks much like any other place of -the same size. But, going inland, one is astonished to find that a mere -strip of land close round the coast terminates the ground available for -walking on. A high irregular cliff wall, from fifty to a hundred feet in -height, encloses the whole interior of the island, which thus resembles -in shape a very large cup set on a very small saucer. Within the cup lie -all fertile lands, the taro beds, the yam fields, the pineapple patches, -the tangled bush, where cotton used to be grown in the days of the -American war, the low green shrubberies that produce the finest -coffee in the Cook Islands. To reach them, there is only one way--that -furnished by a really wonderful rocky staircase, built in prehistoric -times by the ancestors of the present natives. If one were to find such -a work in any other of the Cook Islands one might regard it as proof -positive of the existence of an older and more industrious race, in the -days before the New Zealand Maori took possession of these lands, and -grew effeminate and idle in the occupying. - -But the people of Mangaia, though identical in descent with incurably -indolent and sensual Aitutakians and Raratongans, have been moulded by -their environment to a degree that amounts to an actual difference in -character. The barrier reef has always prevented the free communication -enjoyed by other islands, so that they were able to develop along their -own lines of character, without modification from outside. With an -island that possessed only a limited amount of fertile land, a matchless -fortress in the interior, and a complete barrier about the exterior, it -was a foregone conclusion that the Mangaians should become inhospitable, -reserved, and hard-working, as compared with the prodigally generous -and idle folk of the open and fertile islands. They did so. In the -days before the missions, some sixty years ago, the Mangaians were the -fiercest cannibals in the group, and determinedly hostile to strangers: -nor were they ever as pleasure-loving as the other Cook Islanders. -To-day they are harder in character than the folk of the other islands; -kindly to strangers, but hardly gushing in their reception of them, -and so much more industrious than the Aitutakians or Raratongans that -Mangaian men are sought as servants all over the group. - -There is, therefore, no difficulty in understanding how the people of -Mangaia found energy and time to construct the staircases that span the -great wall of “Makatea,” enclosing the inner part of the island. Being -obliged day after day to climb with infinite pains the sharp rocky -heights of the cliff, in order to get from the fishing grounds to the -plantations, they would certainly not be long in devising some means of -lessening this inconvenience. The staircases which are the result -must have taken many years and much labour in constructing, and it is -difficult to understand how a people unacquainted with the use of any -mechanical contrivance could have placed so many large blocks of -stone in the positions which they occupy. The steps are very high and -irregular, and on an extremely torrid afternoon it is not exactly the -walk one would choose for pure enjoyment. However, our time in Mangaia -was short, so I explained to a native girl that I wanted to see -the Makatea, and she at once called up half the village to join the -procession. - -Attended, therefore, by my young guide and the inevitable following, I -went up the mighty stairs, and across the tract of level land lying at -the top. It is nearly a mile before one comes upon the cup-like valley -in the centre of the island, so it must be allowed that the rim of the -cup is a thick one. After a pleasant walk through groves of cocoanut and -guava, we came upon the inner side of the wall, and stood on the edge -of a great grey circular cliff, spiked, spired, and towered with -extraordinary eccentricity, and splendidly garlanded with falling -masses of sea-green creeper. At one point, a huge split in the rock -had evidently provided a foundation for the second staircase, which was -rougher than the first, made of great blocks of stone irregularly laid -here and there so as to fill up the split in part, and give a foothold -to the climber. Still, it was a big piece of work, and must have taken -a good many years--generations, perhaps--to complete. Down in the valley -below, which seemed to be two or three miles across, were all the native -plantations and gardens, and as we jumped down from block to block, -we met hard-faced muscular women toiling upwards with heavy loads of -vegetables and fruit. In the taro fields, terraced so as to let a little -stream trickle through and create an artificial swamp, the workers -seemed to be women only. They dug and scraped in the thick mud under the -burning sun, leaving off their tasks long enough to stare and question -a little, and then setting stolidly to work again. The men were probably -out fishing or pigeon shooting. In spite of Christianity, the island -woman always carries the heavy end of the load, where there is one -to carry; the man is the hunter, the woman the labourer and beast of -burden, as in the cannibal times of long ago. - -There are some remarkable caves in the island, and I went into them for -a mile or so, in company with the local missionary, who kindly offered -to act as guide. - -Caves, however--as most people will allow--are much alike in all parts -of the earth, and there is nothing to differentiate the long, dark, -dripping passages, half-glimpsed halls, gloomy crevasses, and dimly -sparkling stalactite candelabra of a South Sea Island cave, from those -of a cave near Brighton or the Land’s End. There is no need, therefore, -to describe the caves of Mangaia further than to say that they were -quite up to the usual pattern, and that at all events, they gave a touch -of “Swiss Family Robinson” to the island atmosphere that was pleasing to -the imagination. - -It had, of course, nothing to do with Mangaia, but I wondered as we -walked back from the caves towards the top of Makatea, how it was that -the interesting shipwrecked people who live in caves as described in -fiction, never seem to be troubled with damp? I have, personally, never -seen a cave--out of a book--that was not first cousin to a showerbath, -and I should be surprised if any One else had. Who ever saw a genuine -cave roof that was not covered with stalactites, large or small? and -what makes stalactites but endless drip? If I were a shipwrecked person, -I should certainly prefer the temporary house the “useful” character -always puts up in half an hour with the aid of four growing trees and -the ship’s mainsail, to the cave that is invariably discovered in -the second chapter. I should know for certain that the former was the -driest--even when it rained. - -I cannot leave the subject of the strange Makatea, without telling yet a -little more about it, for it has not often been described or mentioned. -Geologists say that it is the product of a double volcanic upheaval. The -first convulsion threw up the island itself, and, in the course of ages, -the usual encircling reef of coral was built up round it by the busy -coral insects, working under the water. Then came a second upheaval, and -the island and reef together were cast up two hundred feet. The Makatea -is thus the ancient reef that once surrounded the original small island -which is represented by a crown of heights in the middle of the cup of -the crater, and by the sunk-down valley about it. The narrow strip of -land that edges the beach to-day is a later formation. - -One cannot mistake the character of the great coral cliff, which is -quite unlike any kind of stone, or indeed anything but itself. The -passing ages have turned it to rock, but to rock which is hollowed in -every direction with caves, small and great, and filled with fossil -shells as a pudding is filled with plums. No unprotected foot can tread -the surface of these heights, which are simply a mass of serried grey -spears, sharp and cruel as the top of a wall protected by broken glass. -The natives, if convenience leads them to cross any part of the Makatea -other than the staircases, usually protect their feet with thick sandals -of woven coir fastened on with cords. One can imagine how much this -peculiar protection must have added to the safety of the interior of the -island, in the old predatory days. - -The caves were often used for burying places in time gone by, and it is -only a few years since a “find” of skulls of a type differing in several -particulars from those of the present day, was made in one of the -largest caves by a schooner captain. Rumour says that he sold them for a -good price, but the purchasers were not known. - -Another use of the coral caves in the old days (over fifty years ago) -was a shelter for fugitives of various kinds. The Mangaians were not a -pleasant people, in those times, either to strangers or each other. -The outsider was cooked and eaten for the mere offence of presuming to -exist. The Mangaian was never sure that some one who had a spite against -him would not murder him--probably by poison, in the use of which -these people were as expert as the Borgias themselves. Under these -circumstances, the caves were never without their occupants, living in -secret, and creeping out at night to pick up a little food. Many and -romantic are the stories told by the missionaries and traders of these -stirring times, if I had space to relate them. - -Mangaia is a beautiful island, but that goes without saying, in the -exquisite Cook Group. It has about half a dozen white people, and the -native population is said to number something under two thousand. - -Though a pleasant island and a healthy one, it cannot be recommended -to planters, as there is not an inch of land available for rent. The -natives themselves are keen traders and bargainers, and export much -of their fruit and copra direct to Auckland. Most of what they make is -spent in trade-finery, for which they have an uncontrollable passion. -On Sundays, the churches are a very flower-garden of frippery, the men -turning out in the most brilliant of shirts, ties, and suits, the women -decking themselves in long loose robes of muslin, sateen, or cheap silk, -coloured in the most screaming hues--pea-green, royal blue, scarlet, and -orange being all strong favourites. Their hats, made by themselves out -of silky arrowroot fibre, are often trimmed with the costliest ribbons -and artificial flowers, and even with ostrich plumes to the value of -two or three pounds. It is somewhat puzzling, I was told, to see several -entire families got up in the same extraordinary style, unless you know -the reason, which is, that these various households have joined together -in a club, putting all the money they have made into one purse, and -sending it down to Auckland on their own account for a bale of gorgeous -clothing, all alike. Thus you will see twenty or thirty women, on a -Sunday morning, dressed alike in robes of vermilion satinette, and -wearing huge hats, crowned by three ostrich feathers, red, yellow, and -blue, arranged after the fashion of the Prince of Wales’s crest. - -This is one of the clubs, and there are sure to be others that vie with -them in startling attire. Such are the weaknesses--after all, venial -ones indeed--of the sturdy-souled Mangaian. - -Atiu was our next stop, and here the reef-jumping process had to be -repeated in another form. The ship’s whale-boat, steered by our captain, -who was the cleverest hand at the big sixteen-foot steer-oar of any -white man I have ever seen, approached the edge of the reef, and danced -about in front of it, until the passengers found an opportunity of -leaping out on to it. Then, rather wetfooted (but no one minded that, in -a temperature like the hot room of a Turkish bath) we were picked up -by natives waiting on the shallow side, and carried through the lagoon, -which was not more than a foot or two deep. - -[Illustration: 0217] - -On landing, we found a number of the men standing on the shore ready to -receive the Commissioner. They had been fishing, and were clad simply -and coolly in a rag and a feather apiece--the latter worn in the hair, -over one ear. Their dress, however, did not seem to embarrass them -at all, and they came forward and shook hands with every one,’ quite -politely. All the Cook islanders are supposed to be Christianised and -civilised, but in some parts of the group the civilisation, at all -events, seems to be wearing very thin, and this is notably the case -in Atiu, an island rather larger than Raratonga, which has no resident -missionary, save a very conceited and upsetting young native teacher. -The Atiuans were of old a wilder and fiercer race than even the -Mangaians, and such determined cannibals that they used to make raids on -the surrounding islands for the simple purpose of filling their cooking -ovens, and enjoying a mighty feast. Great war canoes, laden with gory -corpses, have many a time been’ drawn up on the very stretch of sand -where we landed, and the grandfathers of the men who greeted us have -sung and danced in fierce exultation to see the fat limbs and well-fed -bodies of their enemies laid in ghastly heaps upon the snowy beach, -ready for the cooking pits that since early morning had been glowing -with flame in anticipation of the banquet. - -“Meek-faced Atiuans” was the nickname bestowed upon these islanders, in -derision, by those who knew their wiliness and treachery. There is not -much that is meekfaced about them to-day. They certainly look rougher -and less amiable than any others of the Cook Islanders, and they are by -no means so amiable and easy-going as the Raratongans, Aitutakians, and -people of Mitiaro and Mauke. However, it cannot be said that they are -in any way dangerous, and the stray white people who have lived in the -island (there was only one at the time of my visit) have always got on -well with them. Rough, as I said before, they certainly are. A ring I -wore on my hand attracted the attention of one or two of the men, -and they crowded round, fingered it, and actually tried to snatch--an -attempt very shortly put an end to by the Commissioner, who ordered them -off peremptorily. The incident, although small, illustrates a standard -of manners that one would certainly not encounter in any other part -of the group, or indeed in any one of the Southern or Eastern Pacific -groups that I afterwards saw. - -There was a good deal of native-manufactured lime-juice to be got away -here, and the people (most of them more completely dressed than the -party that had received us on the shore) were busy rolling down the -casks into the water, where the out-going tide took them, and floated -them across the reef to the schooner. It seemed a strange way of taking -on cargo, but I learned, afterwards, that it is not uncommon in islands -surrounded by a dangerous reef. - -[Illustration: 0225] - -The walk up to the settlement proved to be a good three miles, Atiu -being one of the very few islands whose natives do not live down on the -shore. The scenery was fine--wide rich plains covered with low scrub, or -clothed with thick herbage, alternating with heavy forest. There is no -better soil in the islands than that of Atiu. Guavas are a common weed; -pumpkins run wild, trailing their long green vines and heavy fruit -right across the track, mangoes, chestnuts, Pacific cherries, and othér -fruits, grow without care or cultivation. Any tropical product can -be raised, and land is exceedingly cheap. The reef has always been a -handicap to the island; but I heard that a part had been blown up to -admit of a boat passage, some time after my visit, also that the Union -steamers had begun to call for cargoes--an important event in the -history of any island, and one likely to do much for its future. - -The people are few in number--only nine hundred--and do not attempt to -use more than a very small portion of the thirty-two square miles of -their territory. Much is available for letting, and every inch of the -island is worth cultivating, although to a stranger’s eye it is hardly -as fertile in appearance as other portions of the Cook Group that are -much less valuable. Coffee, copra, oranges, bananas, sweet potatoes, -could be profitably grown for export. The climate is good and healthy. - -The people have not dwindled down to their present small numbers through -natural decay. Like another more famous island, Atiu is “swarming with -absentees.” In the Society Islands, and here and there in other groups, -whole villages full of Atiuans are to-day to be seen, who emigrated from -their native country twenty or thirty years ago, owing to difficulties -with the missionaries, and went to seek an asylum in lands where -strings were drawn somewhat less tightly than they were at home. They -never returned, though the island, when I saw it, had no resident white -missionary at all, and in consequence their lands have lain idle ever -since. The ill wind has blown good to planters and settlers, however, so -one need not quarrel with it. - -Like Mangaia, Atiu has a cave--only a much larger one, and it has a -mystery connected with the cave, which no one has yet attempted to -solve. - -Sixty years ago or more (I was told--I do not swear to the truth of -this or any other island story that I have not had the opportunity of -investigating in person), an invading tribe came to Atiu, and in the -course of several battles, defeated and put to rout one of the lesser -tribes of the island. The vanquished ones, fearing that they would be -killed and eaten, plucked up courage to try a desperate expedient, and -hid themselves in the cave, into whose dark recesses no native had ever -before ventured, for fear of offending the evil spirits that were said -to live therein. After waiting for a day or two, the enemies gave up the -contest, and went away again. It was now safe for the hunted tribe to -come forth, and the other inhabitants of the island looked to see them -return--for after all, it did not seem likely that the evil spirits -would destroy so many. They waited in vain. From the unknown depths of -the cave--unknown, in its innermost recesses, to the present day--no -sign, no message reached them; no living soul ever came forth of the -many men, women, and children who had braved the dangers of that dark -portal. Lost they were, lost they remained. - -What happened to them? No one knows. It is not easy to destroy a whole -tribe, and leave no sign. But the one white man who partly explored the -cave some years ago, found nothing to hint at the nature of the tragedy. -It is true that his candles gave out, and the cord that served him for -a guide back among the endless windings of the place came to an end, -so that he never knew quite how far the place went, or how many -ramifications it had. Still, it is strange enough that not so much as a -single human bone was to be seen. If the tribe had lost their way, and -perished of hunger, some traces would certainly have been visible--a -spear, a shell ornament, perhaps a skeleton. If they had fallen in a -body over some treacherous inner precipice, the dangerous place would -have been discoverable. Perhaps some new explorer will unravel the -mystery, one of these days. It will not be a steamer passenger, however, -for the Union boats on their rare calls do not stay long enough for any -one to land, and the cave requires two clear days to reach and see. - -As we were not even stopping overnight ourselves, I had no opportunity -of making an exploration on my own account. Thus the mystery rests -unsolved--unless some one may have come to the island in a stray trading -schooner since my visit, and found time enough to explore the unknown -parts of the haunted cavern. The natives of Atiu, needless to say, put -down the whole thing simply and solely to the revenge of the “local -demons.” - -The people of the settlement, when we reached it, greeted our party -with boisterous cheerfulness. The officials went to hold their court, as -usual, and I, being as usual quite uninterested in the details of native -boundary disputes conducted in an unknown tongue, amused myself with the -women of the village. It might be more correct to say that they amused -themselves with me. I do not think any white woman had been up to the -settlement before I visited it, and the curiosity of the girls was -uncontrollable. They crowded round me, they slyly felt my hair to see -if the coils were attached to my head in Nature’s own way (by which I -conclude that the wearing of false hair is not unknown to themselves), -they rubbed my dress material in their fingers, they poked me all over -to see if I was real, and conducted such searching investigations into -the quantity and style of my clothing, that I was obliged to speak to -one or two as sharply as I knew how (the tongue was alien, but the tone -was understood) and make them desist. Withal, they were not ill-natured, -though certainly a little ill-mannered. They did not forget the duties -of hospitality, but pressed fruit and cocoanut water on me, and one -woman insisted on giving me a bottle full of honey to take away--a gift -that was much appreciated by my fellow-passengers on the schooner, later -on. - -I gratified them extremely by loosening the hair of one or two, and -putting it up in the latest fashionable style, which proved so popular -that the whole feminine half of the island set to hair-dressing at once, -and before I left the island that day, a general and complete revolution -in coiffure had taken place. We had a good deal of feminine talk among -ourselves, before the men came out again: the fact that I did not know -anything of the language, save perhaps half a dozen words, was no bar to -a certain amount of thought-interchange. How was it done? Signs, for the -most part: scraps, guesses, hints, stray native words made to do double -and treble duty. Could I have talked to the husbands and brothers of -the women in the same way? No, certainly not. All through my wanderings -among the uncivilised folk of the island world, I was constantly -interested and amused to see how quick the women were in the language of -signs and makeshifts, how very uncomprehending the men. If I wanted to -make a request of any kind, on an island where I did not know any of the -language, I instinctively sought for a woman to interpret my signs for a -boat, a guide, a trader’s or missionary’s house, and so forth; and found -that the women understood, almost as surely as the men, under the same -circumstances, did not. Psychologists may make what they like of the -fact. Women, who have talked the “sign-language” to each other, many -and many a time, over the innocent thick heads of their unsuspecting -better-halves, friends, or brothers, will never doubt it. We are not as -clever as men--let the equality brigade shriek if they like, “it’s as -true as turnips is, as true as taxes”--but neither are we as stupid. God -forbid! - -I had practically the whole day to put in somehow, so, after the -delights of hair-dressing had palled, and the afternoon was passing on, -I accepted the invitation of a cheerful, though rather rough-looking -pair of girls, whom I found crushing limes for lime juice in a very -primitive sort of hand press, and followed them in to dinner in one of -the native houses. - -There was a distinguished guest to be entertained--a woman of Atiu who -had been away from the island with her husband for many months, and had -now returned in the _Duchess_, quite civilised and chic and modern, with -the up-to-dateness of far-away Auckland. This celebrity, regarded as a -very Isabella Bird among the island women, scarce any of whom had ever -seen the other side of their own reef, was seated on the mats when I -entered, her legs folded under her, native fashion; not without evident -discomfort, for the heels of very high-heeled, pointed boots are painful -under such circumstances, and corsets laced to bursting point are -absolutely deadly. Ritia’s dark face was ominously empurpled, and -perspiration due as much to agony as to the heat (which was undeniable) -streamed over her forehead and down, her nose, from under the brim of -her incredible picture hat. But pride upheld her, for who among the -other women of the island owned such magnificent clothes? - -The people of the house received me with exultation. Now, the feast -was indeed a gorgeous one, and the sea-green envy sure to be the lot of -every housewife in settlement with whom I had not dined, shed additional -lustre on the triumph. The food was just coming in as I entered and -folded myself up on the mats--roast sucking-pig, smelling very good; -a fat boiled fowl; some fish from the lagoon, baked like the pig in a -ground oven, and done to a turn; arrowroot jelly; young green cocoanuts, -with the meat still unset, clinging to the thin shell like transparent -blanc-mange; breadfruit, smoking and floury; baked pumpkins; bananas, -roasted in their skins; sweet potatoes; chestnuts. A large cocoanut, -picked at the right stage for drinking, stood at each guest’s right -hand, and in the middle was a big bowl of milky cocoanut cream, into -which each guest was supposed to dip his food as he ate. - -Plates there were none, but I have never thought clean, fresh, green -leaves, a foot or two across, unpleasant substitutes for delf or china, -which is handled and used by hundreds of eaters, and must be washed in -greasy hot water at the end of every meal. There is a good deal to -be said for the native custom, whether the point of view be that of -convenience, cleanliness, or simple beauty. - -I, as the principal guest, was offered everything first, which obviated -any unpleasantness that might have arisen from the entire absence of -knives and forks. There is no hardship in eating with your fingers, if -yours are the first to plunge into every dish, and you have your nice -fresh leaf to yourself. The little pig I did not touch, because no one -who has lived as much as a week in the islands will venture on native -pork, good as it looks and smells. When an unfortunate beast is killed -by strangulation, and never bled, and when you know that it has lived at -its gipsy will, and fed more abominably than a land-crab, you are apt -to find you are “not hungry” when its crackling little carcase comes to -table in cerements of green leaves, and you ask for the breadfruit and -the fish instead. - -The feast seemed likely to go on all afternoon, since no native thinks -he has eaten enough, on such an occasion, until he is as gorged and as -comatose as a stuffed anaconda. There is no obligation to stay longer -than one likes, however, so I washed my hands and withdrew, as soon as -it seemed good to me to do so. - -And by the way, if we of the civilised countries think that we invented -fingerbowls, either in form, or in use, we are mistaken. The South -Seas invented them, a few hundred years before we found out they were -necessary to our own delicate refinement. A bowl full of water is handed -round to every diner in a South Sea house. The water is from the river, -pure and fresh; the bowl is of a mould more perfect than the most -exquisite models of ancient Greece, delicately hued with pale brown in -the inner part, and deep sienna brown outside. It is half a cocoanut -shell--beautiful, useful, practically unbreakable, yet not of sufficient -worth to prevent its being thrown away to-morrow and replaced by a fresh -one from the nearest palm. Fresh plates and cups for one’s food are a -refinement that our refined civilisation has not attained to yet. You -must go to savages to look for them. - -I thanked my hosts for their entertainment, in good English, when I -left. They understood the words and tone almost as clearly as if I had -spoken in their own language, and gave me a ringing salutation that -followed me down the road. That a number of Atiuan men, coming up from -the shore, burst out laughing when they saw me, and held on to each -other in convulsions of merriment at the sight of my absurd white face -and ridiculous clothes, did not detract from the real kindliness of -the reception the island had given me. The manners of the Atiuan would -certainly throw a Tahitian or a courtly Samoan into a fit; but for -all that, he is not at bottom a bad sort, and could certainly be made -something of with training. - -One of the Arikas of Atiu--a woman again: there seemed to be very few -male chiefs in the islands--was pointed out to me as I went down to -the shore, and I photographed her sitting in her chair. She looked -dignified, and her long descent was visible in the pose of her small -head, and the delicacy of her hands, but she did not possess much claim -to beauty. - -[Illustration: 0249] - -The _Duchess_ was standing off and on outside the reef when I came out -on the beach again, and the barrels were merrily floating out, rolled -down into the water by the hands of bu§y brown men and women. It was a -pretty scene in the low yellow sunlight of the waning afternoon,’ and -I carried it away with me, long after we had sailed; as a pleasant -recollection of Atiu. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -_Islands and Adventures--What about the Missionary?--The Lotus -Eaters--How to hunt the Robber-Crab--The Ship that would not -sail--Proper Place of a Passenger--One Way to get wrecked--The Pirate -and the Pearls._ - -MAUKE, Manuwai, and Takutea still remained to be seen, before the -_Duchess_ could spread her wings for Raratonga again. We sailed from one -to another in the course of a few days. There was no hurry, and a day -wasted here or there troubled none of us. - -Sometimes the “trades,” which are very fickle about here, came up and -caught our towering canvas in a cool embrace; then the great hollows of -the sails hummed with the music that the ocean wanderer loves, and the -_Duchess_ skimmed the rolling blue hills like a flying-fish. Sometimes -the wind fell, and the booms swung and creaked lazily above the burning -deck; then we trolled for albacore and bonito, shrieking with savage joy -when our bit of long-desired fresh food came flapping and fighting over -the rail; or we watched the crew hook devil-faced grey sharks, which, -“took charge” of the deck when captured, hitting terrible blows with -their tails, and snapping stout ropes with their savage teeth; or we got -out boats, and rowed them for miles between the double furnaces of the -blazing sun and the glowing sea, coming back to the ship scorched into -cinders, stiff with exertion, but happy. At night the Southern Cross -burned white in the velvet sky, and the coral rocks about the lagoons -showed in shimmering pale blue underneath fifty feet or more of clear, -moonlit water. Lying on the poop, like seals on sand, the little knot -of passengers, captain, and mate, “yarned” for hour after hour--strange, -wild tales of frontier life in new lands; of adventures in unknown seas; -of fights, and more fights, and fights yet again--literature in the -rough, a very gallery of vivid pictures wasted unseen... and yet, what -should any man who had the rich reality care about its pale shadow, -Story? “Do you care much for reading?” “Well, no,” answers the -bare-footed officer lying with his head in a coil of rope; “books -aren’t very interesting, are they?” - -I, watching the mizzen truck swing among the stars, look back over the -long, long trail--long both in distance and in time--that separates this -small heaving deck in the midst of the tropic seas from the rush of the -wintry Strand, Nights in islands of ill reputation, when I slept with -“one eye open” and one hand within touch of my revolver (for there are -incidents of my wanderings that I have not told, and only those who know -the Eastern Pacific may guess at them); days when only a fifty-to-one -chance kept the little schooner from piling her bones on a spouting -coral reef in mid-ocean--rough fare, hard lodging, and long fatigue, -sometimes, all to be “eaten as helped,” without comment or complaint, -for that is the rule of island life--the pungent taste of danger, now -and then, gratefully slaking some deep, half-conscious thirst derived -from fiercer centuries; the sight of many lands and many peoples--these, -and other pictures, painted themselves among the little gold stars swept -by the rocking masts, as I lay^ remembering. I thought of the pile of -untouched “shockers” in my cabin; of grey London and its pyramids of -books and armies of writers; of the mirror that they hold up to life, -and the “magic web of colours gay” they weave, always looking, like -the Lady of Shalott, in the mirror, and seldom joining the merry -rout outside, where no one cares a pin for coloured tapestries, and -looking-glasses are left to half-grown girls. No, truly; “books are not -interesting,” when you can have life instead. - -Upon which some one proposed “Consequences” in the cabin, and I made -haste to climb down. - -Another day, gold and blue as are almost all the days of the “winter” - season, and another island, burning white and blazing green, and another -tumbling reef to jump, with the help of a powerful boat-holder, who -stands in the midst of the surf, and drags the dinghy forward at the -right moment. This is Mauke: we are getting on with the group, and begin -to realise that some time or other, even in these timeless regions, will -actually see us back at Raratonga. - -Mauke proves to be a pretty little place, some six miles in -circumference, “low” in type, but park-like and gardenlike and dainty -enough to wake covetous desires in the heart of almost any traveller. It -has the finest oranges in the group--growing completely wild--and we -are greeted on the shore by the usual crowd of flower-wreathed natives, -bearing splendid branches of rich yellow fruit, which they present -to every one with eager generosity. There are only three hundred and -seventy natives in the island, and much of the land lies waste, though -it is exceedingly fertile. The Mauke folk take things easy on the whole, -and are not keen on trading. They export some oranges, some copra, a few -bunches of dried bananas, and they buy a fair amount of cotton cloth, -and shirts, and cutlery, from the white trader’s store. But no one, so -far, has grown fat on what Mauke makes or buys. - -There were, at the time of my visit, only one or two whites in the -place. The greater portion of the land available for planting lay -unused. Probable rents, on long leases, were quoted to me as a shilling -or so an acre. - -The call at Mauke was short, and I saw little of the island. The natives -insisted, however, that I should come up to the village and look at -their church, of which they are very proud, so I headed the inevitable -procession through the orange and lime and guava groves, to the little -group of houses, partly thatch and reed, partly whitewashed concrete, -that made up the settlement. The church was, of course, much the least -interesting thing in the island. South Sea churches, with one or two -happy exceptions, are blots in a world of beauty, monuments of bad -taste, extravagance, and folly, that do very little credit to the -religions they represent. In the days when most of them were built, the -one idea of the missionary was the assimilation of the native to -white men’s ways and customs, as far as was possible, by any means -conceivable--wise, or otherwise. In building churches for the new -converts, the pattern followed was that set by Europeans for use in -a cold climate, on sites that had a distinct money value per yard. -Consequently, while South Sea houses, for coolness, are made almost all -window and door, or else built, native fashion, in such a way that -the air blows through the walls, South Sea churches are almost without -ventilation, and (because the style of architecture selected is that of -the whitewashed barn description) quite without beauty of any kind. -In most cases, they have cost the islands appalling sums to build, and -continue to demand a good deal to keep them in repair. There are happy -exceptions here and there. Niué, of which place I have more to say later -on, possesses a church built with exquisite taste and perfect regard to -convenience, and the Catholic cathedral in Samoa is designed with much -consideration as to climate, and appearance as well. - -Mauke’s church, however, is not one of the exceptions, being exceedingly -bald and ugly, and it is furthermore disfigured by the most horrible -lapse of taste to be seen in almost any island church--the decoration of -the pulpit and communion rails with silver dollars nailed on in rows. I -told the crowd of natives, eager to hear the praises of their wonderful -church, that I had never seen anything like it in my life--which seemed -to afford them much gratification. I did not add what I thought--that I -sincerely hoped I might never see anything like it again. - -A statement made only once or twice is fairly sure to miss the -observation of the average reader, so I make no apology for saying here, -as I have said in other parts of this book, that I am not one of those -people who are opposed to mission work, or indifferent to religion; -neither am I inclined to minimise the effects of the work done by -missionaries in converting and civilising the Pacific generally. That -the missionaries are infallible and always wise, however, in their -methods of dealing with the natives, I do deny--which is only equivalent -to saying that they are human, like the people at home. Nor do I think -that, in these days, the missionary who takes up work in the Southern -and Eastern Pacific has any need to wear the martyr aureole which is so -persistently fitted on to the heads of all who go to “labour” in the -island world. We are not in the days of Cook: cannibalism, over most of -the Pacific, is dead and forgotten, violence to white people of any kind -is unheard of, the climates are usually excellent, the islands -beautiful, fertile, and happy, and the missionary’s work is much the -same as that of any country clergyman at home, save for the fact that -his congregation are infinitely more submissive than whites would be, -and incline to regard their teacher as a sovereign, not only spiritual, -but temporal. The mission house is always much the finest building on -the island, and the best furnished and provided. The missionary’s -children are usually sent away to be educated at good home or colonial -boarding schools, and afterwards return to take up their parents’ work, -or possibly to settle in the islands in other capacities. The life, -though busy, is devoid of all stress and strain, and there is no -apparent difficulty in “making both ends meet”--and overlap. In the -Southern and Eastern Pacific, the missionaries are conveyed from group -to group in a mission steamer that is little inferior to the yacht of a -millionaire, for comfort and elegance. They are constantly assisted by -gifts of all kinds, and treated with consideration wherever they go, and -in most cases enjoy a social position much better than that originally -possessed at home. It is hard to see why a profession, which is so -pleasant and profitable, should be exalted over the work of thousands of -struggling pastors and clergymen at home, who too often know the pinch -of actual want, and are in many cases obliged to lead lives of the -greyest and narrowest monotony. - -What is the moral? That one should not give money to missions? Certainly -not. But if I were a millionaire, and had thousands to give in such -a cause, I would give them carefully, with inquiry, directed to more -sources than one, and would distribute them so that they should be used, -if possible, in adding to the numbers of the Christian Church, rather -than in teaching geography and English grammar and dressmaking to -amiable brown people who are, and have been for generations, a good deal -more Christian than ninety in a hundred whites. I believe firmly that -most of the older missions in the Pacific could be continued perfectly -well with the aid of native teachers, at one-twentieth the present -cost--much as the teaching of outlying far-away islands, where residence -is unpleasant for white families, is carried on to-day, with the aid -of a yearly visit or so. That the present system will ever be modified, -however, I do not believe. The reasons for such a conclusion are too -obvious to need discussion. - -I have wandered a good way from the church at Mauke. But there are many -points on this subject of island missions, nevertheless, on which I have -not touched. - -Some of the men of Mauke were very busy on the shore, when our party -passed down again to the boat. They made a bright picture, in their gay -pareos of scarlet and yellow, and the snowy coronets of scented island -flowers that they had twined about their heads. But the most picturesque -thing about them was their occupation, which was neither more nor less -than sand-castle building! There they sat, those big grown men, with -never a child among them to make excuse for their play, building up -churches and houses of the milk-white coral sand, scooping dark windows -in the edifices, training green creepers up them, and planting out odd -little gardens of branching coral twigs off the reef, in the surrounding -pleasances. They had bundles of good things tied up in green leaves, -lying somewhere in the shade of the guava bushes, and they had brought a -pile of husked cocoanuts down to the shore with them, to drink when they -pleased. They may have been waiting for a native boat, or they may have -been simply making a day of it. In any case, they were sublimely happy. - -_(Cold rain on the miry road; faint gold sunset fading to stormy grey; -wet leaves a-shiver in the dusk--and the long, long way before the tired -feet. A day of toil, a comfortless night. A handful of coppers in the -pocket; food and fire that must be bought with silver; freedom, rest, -enjoyment, that cost unattainable gold. The sacred right of labour; -a white man’s freedom. O, brown half-naked islanders, playing at -sand-castles on your sun-bathed shore, with unbought food lying among -the unpurchased fruits beside you, what would you give to be one of the -master race?)_ - -Takutea we did not call at, since it was uninhabited, but the _Duchess_, -under her daring little pirate of a captain, made no bones about running -as close to anything, anywhere, as her passengers might desire, so we -saw the fascinating place at fairly close quarters. In 1904, when I saw -it, it was a real “desolate island,” being twelve miles out in the open -sea from the nearest land (Atiu), and totally uninhabited. Its extent -is four or five hundred acres; it is thickly wooded with cocoanuts-, and -has a good spring of water. The beautiful “bo’sun bird,” whose long red -and white tail feathers have a considerable commercial value, is common -on the island. No one had visited it for a long time when we sailed by; -the wide white beach was empty, the cocoanut palms dropped their nuts -unheeded into earth that received them gladly, and set them forth -again in fountain-like sprays of green. The surf crumbled softly on -the irregular fringing reef; the ripples of the lagoon laid their ridgy -footsteps along the empty strand, and no Man Friday came to trample -them out-with a step of awful significance. I wanted Takutea very badly -indeed, all for myself; but I shall not have it now, neither will the -reader, for some one else has bought it, and it is to be turned into a -cocoanut plantation. - -Manuwai, better known as Hervey Island, is not many miles away, but we -took a day or more to reach it, partly because the winds were contrary, -partly because (with apologies to the Admiralty Surveys) it was wrongly -charted, and could not be found, at first, in a slight sea-fog. Manuwai -has changed its ownership and its use, of late, but in 1904 it was a -penal settlement and a copra plantation combined, being used as a -place of punishment for sinful Cook Islanders, who were compulsorily -let out as labourers to the Company renting the two islets of which this -so-called group is composed. - -The islands between them cover about fifteen hundred acres, according -to the estimate given me. They have no permanent inhabitants, and when -first taken up for planting, were quite desolate of life. A far-away, -melancholy little place looked Manuwai, under the rays of the declining -sun, as we came up to the reef. The two low islands, with their thick -pluming of palms, are enclosed in the same lagoon, sheltered by a reef -of oval form. There were a couple of drying-huts on the beach, and some -heaps of oily smelling copra, when our boat pulled in. About twenty men, -some convicts, some hired labourers, were gathered on the shore, fairly -dancing with excitement, and the rest of the population--one white -overseer, and one half-caste--were waiting on the very edge of the -water, hardly less agitated. No ships ever called except the _Duchess_, -and she was long overdue. - -I stepped on shore, and was immediately shaken hands with, and -congratulated on being the first white woman to set foot on the island. -Then we all went for a walk, while the native crew fell into the arms of -the labourers, and with cries of joy began exchanging gossip, tobacco, -hats, and shirts, bartering oranges from the ship for cocoanut crabs -from the island, and eagerly discussing the question of who was going -home in the _Duchess_, and who would have to stop over till her next -call, perhaps six months hence. - -Manuwai is not one of the most beautiful of the islands, but anything -in the way of solid ground was welcome after the gymnastics of the -too-lively _Duchess_. The cocoa-nut plantations, and the new clearings, -where the bush was being burned away, interested the officials from -Raratonga, and the “boulevard” planted by the overseer--a handsome -double row of palms, composing an avenue that facetiously began in -nothing, and led to nowhere, received due admiration. We heard a -good deal about the depredations of the cocoanut crabs, and as these -creatures are among the strangest things that ever furnished food for -travellers’ tales, I shall give their history as I gathered it, both in -Manuwai and other places. - -One must not, by the way, believe all that one hears, or even half, -among the “sunny isles of Eden.” Flowers of the imagination flourish -quite as freely as flowers and fruits of the earth, and are much less -satisfactory in kind. Also, it is a recognised sport to “spin yarns” to -a newcomer, with the pious object of seeing how much he--or she--will -swallow; and where so much is strange, bizarre, and almost incredible, -among undoubted facts, it is hard to sift out the fictions of the -playful resident. - -However, the cocoanut crab is an undeniable fact, with which many a -planter has had to wrestle, much to his loss. It must be confessed that -I had expected something very exciting indeed, when I heard in Tahiti -that cocoanut or robber crabs were still to be found in some parts of -the Cook Group. One of the most grisly bugbears of my youth had been -the descriptions of the terrible cocoanut crab that attacked the “Swiss -Family Robinson” on their wonderful island. It was described, if my -memory serves me, as “about the size of a turtle.” and was dark blue in -colour; it descended rapidly backwards down a tree, and immediately went -to the attack of a Robinson youth, who repulsed it at the peril of his -life.... On the whole, I thought it would make things interesting, if it -really was in the Cook Group. - -I never was more disappointed in my life than when I really saw one. It -was dead, and cured in formalin, and only brought down from an island -house as a show, but that was not the trouble. It was not more than two -and a half feet long, lobster tail and all; it was not in the least like -a turtle, and any small boy armed with a good stick could have faced it -without fear, at its worst. No, decidedly the terrible crab was not up -to the travellers’ tales that had been told about it. - -Still, it was worth seeing, for it was like nothing on the earth or in -the sea that I had ever encountered. It had been excellently preserved, -and looked wonderfully alive, when laid on the sand at the foot of a -cocoanut palm. Its colour, as in life, was a gay mixture of red and -blue. It had a long body like a colossal lobster, and two claws, one -slight and thin, the other big enough to crack the ankle-bone of a man. -It was an ugly and a wicked-looking thing, and I was not surprised to -hear that it fights fiercely, if caught away from its hole, sitting up -and threatening man or beast with its formidable claw, and showing no -fear whatever. - -In the daylight, however, it is very seldom seen abroad. We walked -through groves that were riddled with its holes that afternoon, -but never even heard the scuffle of a claw. The creature lives in -rabbit-like burrows at the foot of palm-trees, and the natives can -always tell the size of the inmate by a glance at the diameter of the -hole by which it enters its burrow. At night it comes out, climbs the -nearest palm, and gets in among the raffle of young and old leaves, -fibre, stalks, and nuts, in the crown, there it selects a good nut, nips -the stalk in two with its claw, and lets the booty drop with a thump -to the earth, seventy or eighty feel below. Then the marauder backs -cautiously down the tree, finds the nut, and proceeds to rip and rend -the tough husk until the nut as we know it at home is laid bare. A -cocoanut shell is no easy thing to crack, as most people know, but the -robber crab with its huge claws makes nothing more of it than we should -make of an egg, and in a minute the rich oily meat is at the mercy -of the thief, and another fraction of a ton of copra is lost to the -planter. It goes without saying that any stray nuts lying on the ground -have been opened and destroyed, before the crab will trouble itself to -climb. - -Cocoanut crab is very good eating, and as it is mostly found in barren -coral islands where little or nothing will grow but palms, the natives -are always keen on hunting the “robber.” Sometimes he is secured by -thrusting a lighted torch down a hole which possesses two exits--the -crab hurrying out at the unopposed side as soon as the flame invades his -dwelling. Sometimes the islanders secure him by the simple process of -feeling for him in his burrow, and stabbing him at the end of it with -a knife. This is decidedly risky, however, and may result in a smashed -hand or wrist for the invader. A favourite plan is the following: Slip -out in the dark, barefoot and silent, and hide yourself in a cocoanut -grove till you see or hear a crab making his way up a tree. Wait till -he is up at the top, and then climb half-way up, and tie a band of grass -round the trunk. Now hurry down and pile a heap of rough coral stones -from the beach at the foot of the tree. Slip away into the shadow again, -and wait. The crab will start to come down presently, backing carefully, -tail first, for he has a bare and unprotected end to his armoured body, -and uses it to inform himself of his arrival on the safe ground below. -Half-way down the tree he touches your cunning band of grass. “Down so -soon?” he remarks to himself, and lets go. Crack! he has shot down forty -feet through air, and landed smashingly on the pile of stones that you -carefully prepared for his reception. - -He is badly injured, ten to one, and you will have little trouble in -finishing him off with your knife, and carrying home a savoury supper -that is well worth the’ waiting for. That is the native way of hunting -robber crabs. - -When one lives on a cocoanut plantation, on an island that contains -practically nothing else, one comes in time to know everything that is -to be known about cocoanuts in general. But even the manager of Manuwai -could not solve for me a problem that had been perplexing me ever since -I had first seen a cocoanut palm--a problem, indeed, that after several -more years of island travel, remains unanswered yet. - -Why is no one ever killed by a cocoanut? - -The question seems an idle one, if one thinks of cocoa-nuts as they are -seen in British shops--small brown ovals of little weight or size--and -if one has never seen them growing, or heard them fall. But when one -knows that, the smallest nuts alone reach England (since they are sold -by number, not by weight) and that the ordinary nut, in its husk and on -its native tree, is as big as one’s own head, and as heavy as a solid -lump of hard wood--that most trees bear seventy or eighty nuts a year, -and that every one of those nuts has the height of a four-storey house -to drop before it reaches the ground--that native houses are usually -placed in the middle of a palm grove, and that every one in the islands, -brown or white, walks underneath hundreds of laden cocoanut trees every -day in the year--it then becomes a miracle of the largest kind that no -one is ever killed, and very rarely injured, by the fall of the nuts. -Nor can the reason be sought in the fact that the nuts cannot hurt. One -is sure to see them fall from time to time, and they shoot down from -the crown of the palm like flying bomb-shells, making a most portentous -thump as they reach the earth. So extremely rare are accidents, however, -that in nearly three years I did not hear of any mishap, past or -present, save the single case of a man who was struck by a falling nut -in the Cook Islands, and knocked insensible for an hour or two. This is -certainly not a bad record for a tour extending over so many thousand -miles, and including most of the important island groups--every one -of which grows cocoanut palms by the thousand, in some cases, by the -hundred thousand. - -Travellers are often a little nervous at first, when riding or walking -all day long through woods of palm, heavily laden with ponderous nuts. -But the feeling never lasts more than a few days. One does not know -why one is never hit by these cannon-balls of Nature--but one never is, -neither is anybody else, so all uneasiness dies out very quickly, and -one acquiesces placidly in the universal miracle. - -Planters say that most of the nuts fall at night, when the dew has -relaxed the fibres of the stalks. This would be an excellent reason, -but for the fact that the nuts don’t fall any more at night than in the -daytime, if one takes the trouble to observe, and that damp, or dew, -tightens up fibres of all kind, instead of relaxing them. If one asks -the natives, the usual answer is: “It just happens that way”; and I -fancy that is as near as any one is likely to get to a solution. - -Manuwai, since I saw it, has been purchased outright by a couple of -adventurous young Englishmen, who are working it as a copra plantation. -Takutea has, therefore, a neighbour in the Robinson Crusoe business, and -is not likely to be quite so solitary as in times past. - -The tour of the group was now ended, and the Government officials were -conveyed back to Raratonga with all possible despatch--which is not -saying very much, after all. There followed a luxurious interval of real -beds and real meals, and similar Capuan delights, in the pretty island -bungalow where my lot for the time had been cast. Then the _Duchess_ -began to start again, and peace was over. A sailing vessel does not -start in the same way as a steamer. She gives out that she will leave -on such a day, at such an hour, quite like the steamer; but there the -resemblance ends. When you pack your cabin trunk, and have it taken -down at 11 a.m., you find there is no wind, so you take it back and call -again next day. There is a wind now, but from the one quarter that makes -it practically impossible to get out of port.’ You are told you had -better leave your trunk, in case of the breeze shifting. You do, and -go back for the second time to the hostess from whom you have already -parted twice. The verandah (every one lives on verandahs, in the -islands) is convulsed to see you come back, and tells you this is the -way the ship always does “get off.” You spend a quiet evening, and go -to bed. At twelve o’clock, just as you are in the very heart of your -soundest sleep, a native boy comes running up to the house to say that -the captain has sent for the passenger to come down at once, for the -wind is getting up, and he will sail in a quarter of an hour! You -scramble into your clothes, run down to the quay, get rowed out to -the ship, and finish your sleep in your cabin to the accompaniment of -stamping feet and the flapping sails; and behold, at eight o’clock, the -bo’sun thunders on your door, and tells you that breakfast is in, but -the breeze is away again, and the ship still in harbour! After breakfast -you sneak up the well-known avenue again, feeling very much as if you -had run away from school, and were coming back in disgrace. This time, -the verandah shrieks until the natives run to the avenue gate to see -what is the matter with the man “papalangis,” and then console you with -the prophecy that the schooner won’t get away for another week. - -She does, though. In the middle of the afternoon tea, the captain -himself arrives, declines to have a cup, and says it is really business -this time, and he is away. You go down that eternal avenue again, -followed by cheerful cries of “No goodbye! we’ll keep your place at -dinner,” and in half an hour the green and purple hills of lovely -Raratonga are separated from you by a widening plain of wind-ruffled -blue waves, and the _Duchess_ is fairly away to Savage Island. - -“Miss G--------, have you nearly done your book?” - -“Pretty nearly--why?” I ask, looking up from the pages of “John -Herring.” - -We are a day or two out from Raratonga, but not even one hundred of the -six hundred miles that lie between the Cook Group and lonely Niué is -compassed as yet. The winds have been lightest of the light, and from -the wrong quarter too, until this morning, when we have “got a slant” at -last. Now the _Duchess_ is rolling along in her usual tipsy fashion -at seven or eight knots an hour, and the china-blue sea is ruffled and -frilled with snow. It is hot, but not oppressively so, and I have -been enjoying myself most of the morning lounging on a pile of locker -cushions against the deck-house, alternately reading, and humming to -myself something from Kipling about: - - Sailing south on the old trail, our own trail, the out trail, - - Sliding south on the long trail, the trail that is always new. - -The pirate captain has been at the wheel for the last two hours, but I -have not taken much note of the fact. Our only mate left us in the Cook -Group, for a reason not absolutely new in the history of the world (a -pretty little reason she was, too); and our bo’sun, who has been giddily -promoted to a rank that he describes as “chief officer,” is not exactly -a host in himself, though he is a white man. In consequence, the pirate -and he have been keeping watch and watch since we sailed--four hours on -and four hours off--and, as one or two of our best A.B.s declined to go -down to Niué, and most of the others are bad helmsmen, the two whites -have been at the wheel during the greater part of their watches. - -I have grown quite accustomed to seeing one or other standing aft of -the little companion that leads down to the cabin, lightly shifting the -spokes in his hands hour after hour. It never occurred to me, however, -that I was personally interested in the matter. - -But we are in the South Pacific, and I have still a good many things to -find out about the “way they do things at sea,” here where the ocean is -the ocean, and no playground for globe-trotting tourists. - -“Are you nearly done?” asks the pirate again, shifting half a point, and -throwing a glance at the clouds on the windward side. They are harmless -little clouds, and only suggest a steady breeze. - -“I have about half an hour’s reading left,” I answer. - -“Then you’d better chuck the book into your cabin, for it’s almost eight -bells, and that begins your trick at the wheel,” says the pirate calmly. - -“My _what?_” - -“Your trick. Your turn. Time you have to steer, see?” - -“But, good heavens! I never had a wheel in my hand in my life--I don’t -know how!” - -“That’s your misfortune, not your fault,” says the pirate kindly. -“You’ll never have to say that again.. There’s eight bells now--come -along. J------ and I have had too much of the wheel, and now we’re well -away from land is your time to learn.” - -And from thenceforth until we made the rocky coast of Niué, more than a -week later, I spent a portion of every day with the polished spokes of -the wheel in my hands, straining my eyes on the “lubber’s point,” or -anxiously watching the swelling curves of the sails aloft in the windy -blue, ready to put the wheel up the instant an ominous wrinkle began -to flap and writhe upon the marble smoothness of the leaning canvas. At -night, the smallest slatting of sail upon the mast would start me out of -my sleep, with an uneasy fear that I was steering, and had let her get -too, close to the wind; and I deposed most of my prayers in favour of -an evening litany that began: “North, north by east, nor’-nor’-east, -nor’-east by north, nor’-east,” and turned round upon itself to go -backward in the end, like a spell said upside down to raise a storm. - -Withal, the good ship left many a wake that would have broken the back -of a snake, for the first day or two of my lessons, and the native A.B.s -used to come and stand behind me when an occasional sea made the wheel -kick, under the evident impression that they would be wanted before -long. But I learned to steer--somehow--before we got to Niué, and I -learned to lower away boats, and to manage a sixteen foot steer-oar, -when we got becalmed, and spent the day rowing about among the -mountainous swells, out of sheer boredom. And for exercise and sport, -I learned to go up into the cross-trees and come down again by the -ratlines or the back-stay, whichever seemed the handiest, wearing the -flannel gymnasium dress I had brought for mountaineering excursions. -It was very pleasant up there on a bright, salt-windy morning, when the -_Duchess_ swung steadily on her way with a light favouring breeze, her -little white deck lying below me like a tea-tray covered with walking -dolls, her masts at times leaning to leeward until my airy seat was -swung far out across the water. Having a good head, I was never troubled -with giddiness, and used to do a good deal of photographing from -aloft, when the ship was steady enough to allow of it. That was seldom, -however, for the _Duchess_ had been built in New Zealand, where the good -schooners do not come from, and had no more hold on the water than -a floating egg. More than one sailing vessel turned out by the same -builders had vanished off the face of the ocean, in ways not explained, -by reason of the absence of survivors, but dimly guessed at, all the -same; and I cannot allow that the pirate captain had any just cause -of annoyance--even allowing for a master’s pride in his ship--when I -recommended him to have the schooner’s name painted legibly on her keel -before he should leave Auckland on his next northward journey, just “in -case.” - -We were about a hundred and fifty miles off Niué, when the pirate came -to me one windy morning, and asked me if I wanted to see something that -had only been once seen before. - -There was, of course, only one reply possible. - -“Then keep a look-out, and you’ll see it,” said the pirate. “We’re going -to run right by Beveridge Reef, and it’s been only once sighted. What’s -more, it’s wrong charted, and I’m going to set it right. You’ve no idea -what a lot of wrecks there have been on that d-------- that dangerous -place. Not a soul ever got away from one of them to tell what happened, -either. They’d only know when things began drifting down to Niué, weeks -after--timber and cargo, and so on--why, a lot of the houses in Niué -are built out of wreckage--and then people would say that there’d been -another wreck on Beveridge Reef. Some fool reported it as a coral island -two miles across, once upon a time, but I’ll bet he never saw it. If it -had been, it wouldn’t have been as destructive as it is.” - -Late in the day we sighted it. The pirate was aloft, swinging between -heaven and earth, with a glass in his hand, calling out observations to -the chief-officer-boatswain below. The crew were attending exclusively -to the horizon, and letting the ship look after herself, according to -the amiable way of Maories when there is anything interesting afoot. The -weather was darkening down, and heavy squalls of rain swept the sea now -and then. But there it was, clearly enough to be seen in the intervals -of the squalls, a circle of white foam enclosing an inner patch of livid -green, clearly marked off from the grey of the surrounding ocean. Here -and there a small black tooth of rock projected from the deadly ring of -surf, and--significant and cruel sight--two ships’ anchors were plainly -to be seen through the glass, as we neared the reef, lying fixed among -the rock, so low in the water as only to be visible at intervals. - -“A wicked place,” said the captain, who had come down from his eyrie, -and was giving orders for the preparation of a boat. “Couldn’t see a bit -of it at night--couldn’t see it in broad daylight, if there was a big -sea on. And wrong charted too. Think of the last minutes of those poor -chaps the anchors belonged to!” - -The sea and sky were really beginning to look nasty, and I did not want -to think of it. But the pirate went discoursing pleasantly of deaths and -wrecks, while the men were putting various things into the whaleboat, -and getting ready to lower away. He did not often have a passenger, but -when he did, he evidently thought it his duty to keep her entertained. - -We were very near to the reef now--so close that I was able to take a -photograph of it, a little marred by the rainy weather. Meantime, -the boat was being swung out, and the men were getting in. And now -“a strange thing happened.” Out of nowhere at all eight sharks -appeared--large ones, too--and began to cruise hungrily about the -_Duchess’s_ hull, their lithe yellowish bodies sharply outlined in the -dark blue water, their evil eyes fixed on me, as I overhung the rail to -look at them. “If only!” they said as plainly as possible, with those -hideously intelligent green orbs. “If only------” - -“What has brought those horrible brutes about us?” I asked. - -“Those? oh, they’re waiting to be fed, I suppose. Pretty much all the -ships that came this way before us have given them a good dinner. I bet -they say grace before meat now every time they see a sail, which isn’t -often. Here, you Oki, put in that keg of beef.” - -“Where are you going?” I demanded with considerable interest, for the -pirate captain never did things like any one else, and I scented an -adventure. - -“Going to find out what the inside of that lagoon is really like. No -one ever put a boat into it yet. No, you can’t be in it this time: very -sorry, but----” - -“What?” - -“Well, you see, one isn’t absolutely sure of getting back again, in a -place like this. Didn’t you see me put in grub and water and a compass? -I don’t think you’d like a boat voyage down to Niué, if we happened to -miss the train. The mate has the course, and could take her on, if I -came to grief. No, it isn’t any use asking, I just can’t. Lower away.” - -They lowered and------ - -Well, if the pirate had been a shade less determined about the number in -the boat, there would have been a pretty little tragedy of the sea, that -gusty afternoon. One more in the boat had certainly turned the scale. -For the wind was continually getting up, and the wretched _Duchess_ was -rolling like a buoy, and the boat as she touched the water, with the -captain and three men in her, was caught by the top of a wave, and -dashed against the side of the ship. In a flash she was overturned, -with a badly damaged thwart, and was washing about helplessly among the -waves, with the four men clinging to her keel. The sea took her past the -schooner like a rag. I had only time to run to the stern, before she was -swept out of hearing, but I heard the pirate call as he disappeared in -the trough of a wave, “Get out your camera, here’s the chance of your -life!” Then the boat was gone, and for a moment the mate and I thought -it was all over. “The sharks will have ’em if they don’t sink!” - declared that officer, straining over the rail, while the Maori crew ran -aimlessly about the deck, shouting with excitement. - -What happened during the next half-hour has never been very clear in my -memory. The wind kept rising, and the afternoon grew late and dark. The -overturned boat, with the four heads visible about her keel, drifted -helplessly in the trough of the seas, at the mercy of waves and sharks. -(I heard, afterwards, that the men had all kicked ceaselessly to keep -them away, and that they expected to be seized any moment.) The wind -screamed in the rigging, and drifts of foam flew up on deck, and the -Maories ran about and shouted, and got in each other’s way, and tried -to heave ropes, and missed, and tried to launch a boat under the mate’s -direction, and somehow did not--I cannot tell why. And right in the -middle of the play, when we seemed to be making some attempt to bear -down upon the drifting wreck, a grey old man who had come on with us -from the Cook Islands, but had kept to his berth through illness most -of the time, burst out on deck with an astonishing explosion of sea -language, and told us that we were nearly on to the reef. Which, it -seems, every one had forgotten! - -After that, things grew so lively on the poop that I got up on the top -of the deck-house to keep out of the way, and reflect upon my sins. It -seemed a suitable occasion for devotional exercises. The white teeth -of the reef were unpleasantly near, the water was growing shoal. “Put a -leadsman in the chains this minute!” yelled the grizzled passenger (who -had been at sea in his time, and knew something of what was likely to -happen when you got a nasty reef on your lee side, with the wind working -up). The auxiliary engine, meant for use on just such occasions, had -been sick for some time. There was a very strong tide running, the wind -had shifted while the ship’s company were intent on the fate of the -boat, and on the whole it looked very much as if the decorations already -possessed by the notorious reef were likely to be increased by another -pair of best quality British made anchors--_ours_. - -A good many things happen on sailing ships--Pacific ships -especially--that one does not describe in detail, unless one happens to -be writing fiction. This is not fiction, so the occurrences of the next -quarter of an hour must be passed over lightly. The ancient passenger -took command of the ship. We got away from the reef by an unpleasantly -close shave and bore down upon the boat, which the pirate captain had -impossibly contrived to right by this time, paddling it along with one -oar, while the men baled constantly. We got the captain and the men -and the damaged boat on board, and a few “free opinions, freely -expressed”--as a certain famous lady novelist would put it--were -exchanged. Then the pirate, who was quite fresh, and very lively, -demanded the second boat, and said he was bound to get into that place -anyhow, and wouldn’t leave till he did. - -I rather think we mutinied at this juncture. I am sure I did, because -I had been thinking over my sins for some time, and had come to the -conclusion that there really were not many of them, and that I wanted a -chance to accumulate a few more, preferably of an agreeable kind, before -I faced the probability of decorating any Pacific coral reef with my -unadorned and unburied skeleton. The grey-haired passenger and the mate -mutinied too, upon my example, and the pirate, seeing that we were -three to one, and moreover, that it was growing dusk, made a virtue of -necessity, and went off for a shift of clothes, giving orders to make -all sail at once. And so we left the reef in the growing dusk, and no -man has to this day disturbed the virgin surface of its stormy little -lagoon with profanely invading oar. - -Was there a fortune lying concealed beneath those pale green waves -within the foaming jaws of the reef? I never heard. But there were some -among our native crew who came from the far-off island of Penrhyn, where -the pearl fisheries are, and they were strong in asserting their belief -that the pirate might have been well paid for his exploration. It was -just that sort of reef, said the pearl-island men, that most often -contained good shell, and produced the biggest pearls, the first time -of looking. An old, undisturbed atoll, where no one had ever thought of -looking for shell, was the place where big pearls got a chance to grow. -The first comer scooped in the prizes; afterwards, the shell itself and -the smaller pearls were all that any one was likely to get. - -However that might be, the talk, on the rest of the way down to Niué, -ran much on pearls and pearl-shell, and I learned a good deal about -these gold-mines of the Pacific--always making allowance for the -inevitable Pacific exaggeration. Any man who can live a year among the -islands, and restrain himself, in the latter part of his stay, from -lying as naturally and freely as he breathes, deserves a D.S.O. - -Stripped of flowers of fiction, the romance of the pearling trade was -still interesting and fascinating enough. Pearls, in the Pacific, are -obtained from a large bivalve that has a good deal of value in itself, -being the material from which mother-o’-pearl is made. Prices, -of course, fluctuate very much, as the shell is used in so many -manufactures that depend on the vagaries of fashion; but the value -may run to £200 a ton or over. When it gets down to £40 or less, it is -hardly worth the expense of lifting and carrying. For the most part, -however, it is worth a good deal more than this, and when it is at the -highest, fortunes can be, and have been, made out of small beginnings, -in a very short time. The pearls are an “extra,” and not to be relied -upon. There may be almost none in a big take of shell, there may be a -few small ones, there may be a number of fine ones that will make the -fortune of the lucky fisher. It is all a gamble, and perhaps none the -less fascinating for that. Much of the best shell and the finest pearls -in the Pacific, come from the Paumotus, which are French. Thursday -Island, off the north of Queensland, was the great centre of the -fishery, until lately, but it has been almost fished out. The Solomons -were reported to have a good deal of shell, and a rush took place to -that part not long ago, but the yield was much exaggerated. There are -a good many atolls about the Central Pacific in general, which contain -more or less shell, and are generally owned and fished by Australian -syndicates. Outlying reefs and islets, where no one goes, now and then -turn out to be valuable. The news of a find travels apparently on -the wings of the seagulls from group to group, for no such place ever -remains secret for more than a very short time, and then, if the owner’s -title is not secure (a thing that may easily happen, in the case of an -island that does not lie within the geographical limits of any of the -annexed groups) there is sometimes trouble. Pearl-poaching is easy and -profitable, if not very safe; and who is to tell ugly tales, a thousand -miles from anywhere, out in the far Pacific? - -_(The swift-winged schooner and the racing seas: decks foam-white -beneath a burning sky: salt wind on the lips, and the fairy-voiced -enchantress Adventure singing ever from beyond the prow! “O dreamers in -the man-stifled town,” do you hear the wide world calling?)_ - -And so the pirate captain brought us up to Niué, and left me there, and -sailed away with the ship to Auckland, where he gave over the command, -and went (so it was said) to aid in the instruction of sea-going youth, -somewhere further south. The Cook Islands shrieked with joyous amusement -when they heard of the pirate’s new rôle as the guide and mentor of -tender boyhood--but I do not know, after all. The pirate was as full of -mischief as an egg is full of meat, as full of fight as a sparrow-hawk, -gifted with an uncanny faculty for plunging into every kind of risk -that the wide seas of the earth could hold, and coming out unscathed and -asking for more. He was assuredly not to be numbered among the company -of the saints, but neither is the average “glorious human boy”--and on -the principle of setting a thief to catch a thief, the pirate’s new rôle -may well have turned out a success. - -We came up to Niué graced by a last touch of the piratical spirit. -There was some blusterous weather as we neared the great island with its -iron-bound, rocky coasts, towards which we had been making for so many -days, but we swept up towards the land with every rag of canvas set, -for that was the pirate captain’s custom, and he would not break -it. By-and-by, as I was standing on the main deck, holding on to the -deckhouse, while I looked at the looming mass of blue ahead, the main -square-sail gave way with a report like a gun, and began to thrash the -foremast with streamers of tattered canvas. The pirate had it down in a -twinkling, and got the men to bend on a new sail immediately. It went -up to the sound of yelling Maori chants (for the crew liked this sort of -excitement), and once more the ship fled on towards Niué with every -sail straining against the gusty wind. Half-an-hour, and crack!--the -new square-sail was gone too, and half of it away to leeward like a huge -grey bird in a very great hurry. And the pirate, as we began to draw -inshore, raged up and down the deck, like a lion baulked of its prey. To -come up to Niué without every sail set was a disgrace that he had never -yet encountered, and it evidently hit him hard that he had not another -sail in the locker, and was forced to “carry on” as best he could -without it. - -Niué, or Savage Island, is no joke to approach. It is about forty miles -round, and almost every yard of the whole forty is unapproachable, by -reason of the precipitous cliffs, guarded by iron spears of coral rock, -that surround it on every side. There are one or two places where an -approach can be made, in suitable weather, with care, but it is quite a -common thing for sailing vessels to beat on and off as much as a week, -before they succeed in landing passengers and goods. We came up on a -very gusty day, with the blow-holes in the cliffs spouting like whales -as we went by, but the pirate captain ran us into the anchorage below -Alofi as easily as if it had been perfect weather and an excellent -harbour, and we put out a boat to land our goods, including myself. The -pirate had not an ounce of caution in his body, but, as an old Irishman -on one of the islands declared: “The divil takes care of his own, let -him alone for that, and it’s not the Pirate that he’s goin’ to let into -any houle till he lets him into the biggest wan of all--mind that!” - - - - -CHAPTER X - -_How not to see the Islands--Lonely Niué--A Heathen Quarantine -Board--The King and the Parliament--The Great Question of Gifts--Is -it Chief-like?--The New Woman in Niué--Devil-fish and Water-Snakes--An -Island of Ghosts--How the Witch-Doctor died--The Life of a Trader._ - -LANDINGS on Pacific islands are not usually easy, but there are few -approaches as bad as that of Niué, the solitary outlier of Polynesia. It -is a difficult task to get within reasonable distance of the land in the -first place, and when the ship has succeeded in manoeuvring safely up -to the neighbourhood of the cruel cliffs, the trouble is only beginning. -There are no harbours worth the name on the island, although the cliffs -show an occasional crack through which a boat may be brought down to -the sea, and the circling reef is broken here and there. The best that a -ship can do is to lie off at a safe distance, put out a boat, and trust -to the skill of the crew to effect a landing on the wharf. In anything -but really calm weather, communication is impossible. However, there are -very many calm days in this part of the Pacific, so chances are fairly -frequent. - -It was not at all as calm as one could have wished when the _Duchess_ -put out her whaleboat to bring me ashore. But the pirate trusted to his -luck, and was, as usual, justified. The boat passage proved to be a mere -crack in the reef, through which the sea rushed with extreme violence, -dancing us up and down like a cork. It was not difficult for our smart -Maori crew to fend us off the knife-edged coral walls with their oars, -as we manoeuvred down towards the spider-legged little iron ladder -standing up in the surf, and pretending to be a wharf. But when we got -within an oar’s length of the ladder, and the boat was leaping wildly on -every swell, things got more exciting. The only way of landing on Niué -is to watch your time at the foot of the ladder, while the men fend -the boat off the coral, and jump on to the rungs at the right moment. A -native standing on the platform at the top takes you by the arms as -you rise, and snatches you into the air as the eagle snatched Endymion. -Only, instead of going all the way to heaven, you land on the pier--or -what passes for it--and find yourselves upon the soil of Niué. - -Behind the pier rises a little pathway cut in the face of the rock, and -leading up to the main street of the capital. Once up the path, we are -fairly arrived in Savage Island. - -It is not a place known to the globe-trotting tourist, as yet. Much -of the Pacific has been “discovered” by the tripper element of recent -years, but Niué is still almost inviolate. Once here, if one seeks the -true spirit of the South Seas, one still may find it. - -Travellers go in scores by every steamer to Samoa, to Fiji, to Honolulu, -which are on the beaten track of “round-the-world.” They drive up to -Stevenson’s villa, they make excursions to Nuuanu Pali, they see a -sugar plantation here, and a kava drinking there, and a native dance, -specially composed to suit tourists’ tastes, somewhere else. They stay -a week in a fine modern hotel, drink green cocoanuts (and other things -that are stronger), take photographs of island girls wearing imported -Parisian or Sydney costumes, and think they have seen the life of the -islands. Never was there a greater mistake. The sweet South Seas do -not so easily yield up their secret and their charm. The spell that for -three hundred years has drawn the wandering hearts of the world across -the ocean ploughed by the keels of Drake and Hawkins and Cook, of -Dampier, Bougainville, and Bligh, will not unfold itself save to him who -will pay the price. And the price to-day is the same in kind, though -not in degree, as that paid by those old explorers and adventurers--hard -travel, scanty food, loneliness, loss of money and time, forgetting the -cities and civilisation. To know the heart of the South Seas, all these -things must be encountered willingly, with a love of the very hardship -they may bring, strong as the seabird’s love of the tossing waters and -thunderwaking storm. - -The typical British tourist--yes, even he--hears from far off, at times, -the mysterious call of the island world, and tells himself that he will -listen to it a little nearer, and enjoy the siren song sung to so many -long before him. Hence his visits to the great Pacific ports that can -be reached by liner; hence, in most cases, his gradually acquired -conviction that the islands are, after all, very much like any other -place in the tropics--beautiful, interesting, but---- Well, writer -fellows always exaggerate: every one knows that. - -Hotel dinners, big liners, shops, hired carriages, guides, and picture -postcards--these things are death to the spirit of the South Seas. This -is the first lesson that the island wanderer must learn. Where every one -goes the bloom is off the peach. Leave the great ports and the steamers; -disregard the advice of every one who knows anything (most people in the -island towns know everything, but you must not listen to them, for the -jingling of the trade dollar has long since deafened their ears to the -song of the mermaids on the coral beaches); take ship on a schooner, it -does not much matter where; live in a little bungalow under the palms -for weeks or months; ride and swim and feast with the brown people of -the coral countries, as one of themselves; learn, if you do not already -know, how to live on what you can get, and cook what you catch or pick -or shoot, to sleep on a mat and wash in a stream, do without newspapers -and posts, forget that there ever was a war anywhere, or an election, or -that there will ever be a “season” anywhere again; and so perhaps, the -charm of the island world will whisper itself in your waiting ear. What -then? What happened to the men who ate the enchanted fruit of the lotus -long ago? Well, no one ever said that the sweetness of the fruit was not -worth all that it cost. - -There are about five thousand native inhabitants on Niué, and generally -a score or so of whites--almost all traders. Alofi, the capital, -possesses a few hundred of the former, and nearly all the latter. It is -a winsome little spot, and I loved it the moment the wide grassy street -first broke upon my view, as I climbed the narrow pathway from the -shore. - -The houses stand down one side, as is the invariable custom of South -Sea towns. They are whitewashed concrete for the most part, built by -the natives out of materials furnished by the coral reef. The roofs are -plaited pandanus thatch, high and steep. The doors are mostly windows, -or the windows doors--it would be hard to say which. They are simply -long openings filled in with wooden slats, which can be sloped to suit -the wind and weather. Mats and cooking pots and the inevitable Chinese -camphor-wood box, for keeping clothes in, are all the furniture. -Round the doorways grow palms and gay hibiscus, and cerise-flowered -poinsettia, and here and there a native will have set up an odd -decoration of glittering stalactites from the caves on the shore, to -sparkle in the sun by his doorstep. The white men’s houses have grass -compounds in front for the most part, and many have iron roofs, glass -windows, and other luxuries. - -All these houses look the one way--across the wide, empty grassy street, -between the stems of the leaning palms, to the sunset and the still blue -sea. It is a lonely sea, this great empty plain lying below the little -town. The _Duchess_ calls twice a year, the mission steamer once, a -trade steamer, ancient and worn out, limps across from Tonga, about -three hundred miles away, every ten or twelve months. That is all. The -island itself owns nothing bigger than a whaleboat, and cannot as a rule -communicate with any other place in case of emergency. Some few months -before my visit, a trader had very urgent need to send a letter to -Australia. After waiting in vain for something to call, he sighted -an American timber brig on her way to Sydney, far out on the horizon. -Hastily launching a native canoe, and filling it with fruit, he paddled -three or four miles out to sea, in the hope of being seen by the ship. -His signals were perceived, and the brig hove to, when the trader -paddled up to her, offered his fruit as a gift, and begged the captain -to take his letter. This the sailor willingly did, and still more -willingly accepted the excellent Niué bananas and oranges that went with -the missive. And so the post was caught--Niué fashion. - -There is no doctor on the island as a rule, and if you want to die -during the intervals between ships, you may do so unopposed. I am almost -afraid to state how healthy the people of Niué are as a rule, in spite -of--or can it be in consequence of?--this deprivation. - -The “bush” overflows the town, after the charming way of bush, in this -island world. Big lilies, bell-shaped, snowy petalled, and as long as -your hand, spill over into the main street from the bordering scrub. The -grass on the top of the cliff, the day I landed, was blazing with great -drifts of fiery salvia, and starred with pink and yellow marigolds. -About the houses were clumps of wild “foliage plants,” claret and -crimson leaved, looking like a nurseryman’s bedding-out corner. The coco -palm that I knew so well had a sister palm here, of a kind new to me--an -exceedingly graceful tree twenty to thirty feet high, bearing small -inedible berry-like fruits, and splendid fan-shaped leaves, of the shape -and size once so familiar in the “artistic type of drawing-room” at -home. Pinnacles of fantastic grey rock, all spiked and spired, started -up unexpectedly in the midst of the riotous green, and every pinnacle -was garlanded cunningly with wreaths and fronds of flowering vines. -There were mammee-apples and bananas beside most of the houses: yellow -oranges hung as thickly in the scrub as ornaments on a Christmas tree, -and one or two verandahs were decorated with the creeping trailers of -the delicious granadilla. A land of peace and plenty, it looked in the -golden rays of the declining sun, that windy blue afternoon. It proved -alas, to be nothing of the kind: its soil is fertile, but so thinly -scraped over the coral rock for foundation, that very little in the way -of nutritious food will grow--it has no water save what can be gathered -from deep clefts in the rocks, the bananas are scanty, the mammee-apples -unsatisfying, and the “oranges” are for the most part citrons, -drinkable, as lemons are, but little use for anything else. Indeed, -Niué is a useless place altogether, and nobody makes fortunes there -now-a-days, though one or two did well out of the “first skim” of its -trading, a generation ago. Nor does any one grow fat there, upon a -diet of tinned meats, biscuit, and fruit. Nor are there any marvellous -“sights,” like the volcanoes of Hawaii, or the tribe dancing and -firewalking of Fiji. Still I loved Niué, and love it yet. - -It was so very far away, to begin with. In other islands, with regular -steamers, people concerned themselves to some degree about the doings of -the outer world, and used to wonder how things were getting on, beyond -the still blue bar of sea. Newspapers arrived, people came and went, -things were done at set times, more or less. One was still in touch with -the world, though out of sight. - -But in Niué, the isolation was complete. There was no come and go. We -were on the road to nowhere. Nobody knew when any communication -with anywhere would be possible, so nobody troubled, and save for an -occasional delirious day when a ship really did come in, and waked us -all from our enchanted slumber for just So long as you might turn round -and look about you before dropping off into dreams again, we were asleep -to all that lay beyond the long horizon line below the seaward-leaning -palms. Niué was the world. The rest was a cloudy dream. - -I rented a little cottage in the heart of a palm-grove, when I settled -down to wait for the problematic return of the _Duchess_, and see the -life of Niué. It belonged to a native couple, Kuru and Vekia, who were -well-to-do, and had saved money selling copra. The Niuéan, unlike every -other Polynesian, is always willing and anxious to make a bargain or do -a deal of any kind, and Kuru and his wife were as delighted to get the -chance of a “let” as any seaside landlady. They moved their small goods -out of the house most readily, and left me in full possession of the -two rooms and the verandah and the innumerable doors and windows, with -everything else to find for myself. - -A general collection of furniture, taken up by a friendly white -resident, resulted in the loan of a bed and a box and a table, three -chairs, some cups and cutlery, and a jug and basin. These, with a -saucepan lent by my landlady (who, as I have said, was rich, and -possessed many superfluities of civilisation), made up the whole of my -household goods. For two months I occupied the little house among the -palms, and was happy. “Can a man be more than happy?” runs the Irish -proverb, and answer there is none. - -There were never, in all my island wanderings, such shadows or such -sunsets, as I saw in lonely Niué. The little house was far away from -others, and the palms stood up round it close to the very door. In the -white, white moonlight, silver-clear and still as snow, I used to stay -for half a night on my verandah, sitting crosslegged in the darkness of -the eaves, and watching the wonderful great stars of shadow drawn out, -as if in ink, round the foot of every palm-tree. The perfect circle -of tenderly curving rays lay for the most part still as some wonderful -drawing about the foot of the tree; but at rare intervals, when the hour -was very late, and even the whisper of the surf upon the reef seemed to -have grown tired and dim and far away, the night would turn and sigh in -its sleep for just a moment, and all the palm-tree fronds would begin to -sway and shiver up in the sparkling moon-rays, glancing like burnished -silver in the light. Then the star at the foot would dance and sway as -well, and weave itself into forms of indescribable beauty, as if the -spirit of Giotto of the marvellous circles were hovering unseen in the -warm air of this alien country that he never knew, and pencilling forms -more lovely than his mortal fingers ever drew on earth.... Yes, it was -worth losing one’s sleep for, in those magic island nights. - -In the daytime, I rode and walked a good deal about the island, which -is very fairly provided with roads, and tried to find out what I could -about the people and their ways. There is not a more interesting island -in the Pacific than Niué, from an ethnological point of view; but my -scientific knowledge was too contemptibly small to enable me to make use -of my opportunities. This I regretted, for the place is full of strange -survivals of ancient customs and characteristics, such as are seldom to -be found among Christianised natives. The people are somewhat rude -and rough in character; indeed until about forty years ago, they -were actually dangerous. Their island is one of the finest of natural -fortresses, and they used it as such, declining to admit strangers on -any pretext. Captain Cook attempted to land in 1777, but was beaten -off before he had succeeded in putting his boat’s crew ashore. Other -travellers for the most part gave the place a wide berth. - -When men of the island wandered away to other places (the Niuéan is a -gipsy by nature) they received no kindly welcome on attempting to come -home. The Niuéan had an exceeding fear of imported diseases, and to -protect himself against them, he thought out a system of sanitary -precaution, all on his own account, which was surely the completest -the world has ever seen. There was no weak link in the chain: no break -through which measles, or cholera, or worse could creep, during the -absence of an official, or owing to the carelessness of an inspector. -Every person attempting to land on Niué, be he sick or well, stranger, -or native, was promptly killed! That was Niué’s rule. You might go away -from the island freely, but if you did, you had better not attempt to -come back again, for the “sanitary officers” would knock your brains -out on the shore. It was without doubt the simplest and best system of -quarantine conceivable. Possibly as a result of this Draconian law, the -people of Niué are remarkably strong and hardy to-day, though since the -relaxation of the ancient rule, a certain amount of disease has crept -in. - -The people, though warlike and fierce, were never cannibals here at the -worst. They did not even eat their enemies when slain in battle. They -enjoyed a fight very much, however, when they got the chance of one, -and still remembered the Waterloo victory of their history, against the -fierce Tongans, about two hundred years ago. The Tongans, until within -the last half-century, seem to have been the Danes of the Pacific, -always hunting and harrying some other maritime people, and always a -name of terror to weak races. Tonga is the nearest land to Niué, being -about three hundred miles away, so it was not to be expected that the -Niuéans would escape invasion, and they were fully prepared for the -Tongan attack when it did come. They did not attempt to meet force by -force. There was one place they knew where the Tongans might succeed in -landing, and near to this they laid a cunning plan for defence. - -A trader took me down to see the spot one Sunday afternoon. It is one -of the numerous caves of Niué, with a top open for the most part to the -sky. The cave runs underneath the greenery and the creeping flowers -of the bush--a long black gash just showing here and there among the -leaves. The drop is forty or fifty feet, and an unwary foot might very -easily stumble over its edge, even now. - -On the day when the Tongan war canoes broke the level line of the sea -horizon, the Niué men hastened to the shore, and prepared the cave in -such a way as to set a fatal and most effective trap for their enemies. -They cut down a mass of slight branches and leafy twigs, and covered -the gulf completely, so that nothing was to be seen except the ordinary -surface of the low-growing bush. When the enemies landed, the Niué men -showed themselves on the farther side of the cave, as if fleeing into -the woods. The Tongans, with yells of joy, rushed in pursuit, straight -over the gulf--and in another moment were lying in crushed and dying -heaps at the foot of the pit, while the men of Niué, dashing out of -ambush on every side, ran down into the cave from its shallow end and -butchered their enemies as they lay. - -After this, it is said that the Tongans left Niué alone. - -Because of the loneliness and inaccessibility of the place, the Savage -Islanders have always been different from the rest of the Pacific. The -typical “Kanaka” is straight-haired, light brown in colour, mild and -gentle and generous in disposition, ready to welcome strangers and feast -them hospitably. He is aristocratic to the backbone in his ideas, and -almost always has a native class of nobles and princes, culminating in a -hereditary king. - -The Savage Islander is often frizzy-haired, and generally a darkish -brown in colour. His manners are rather brusque, and he gives nothing -without obtaining a heavy price for it. He has no chiefs, nobles, or -princes, and does not want any. There is always a head of the State, who -enjoys a certain amount of mild dignity, and may be called the King -for want of a better name. The office is not hereditary, however, the -monarch being elected by the natives who form the island Parliament. -Meetings of this Parliament are held at irregular intervals; and -the King, together with the British Resident Commissioner, takes an -important part in the debates. - -These are very formal affairs. The brown M.P.s who live, each in his -own village, in the utmost simplicity of manners and attire, dress -themselves up for the day in full suits of European clothing, very heavy -and hot, instead of the light and comfortable cotton kilt they generally -wear. They travel into Alofi and join the local members on the green -before the public hall--generally used as a school-house. King Tongia -joins them, the British Resident comes also, and for hour after hour, -inside the great, cool hall, with its matted floor and many open -window-embrasures, the talk goes on. This road is to be made, that -banyan tree is to be removed, regulation pigsties are to be built in -such a village, petitions are to be sent up to New Zealand about the tax -on tobacco--and so on, and so on. The king is a tough old man; he has -his say on most questions, and it is not considered generally good for -health or business to oppose him too much; but of royal dignity he has, -and asks for, none. - -There is something quite American in the history of Tongia’s elevation, -some seven years ago. He had acted as Prime Minister to the late head of -the State; and when the latter died he calmly assumed the reins without -going through the formality of an election. This was not the usual -custom, and some of the members remonstrated. Tongia told them, however, -that he was in the right, and meant to stay on. When the captain of a -ship died on a voyage, did not his chief mate take over command? The -cases were exactly parallel, to his mind. This argument pleased the -members, who had most of them been to sea, and Tongia was allowed to -retain his seat, the objectors calming themselves with the thought of -the sovereign’s age--he was well over eighty at that time. “He is only -the stump of a torch,” they said; “he will soon burn out.” But the stump -is burning yet, and shows no symptoms of extinction. Tongia married a -pretty young girl soon after his “election,” settled down in the royal -palace--a whitewashed cottage with a palm-thatch roof--and seems likely -to outlast many of his former opponents. - -The powers of the king, limited as they are, have lessened since 1902, -when New Zealand annexed Niué--a proceeding that had its humorous side, -if one examines the map, for Niué is something like a thousand miles -from Auckland. The Resident Commissioner who is responsible for the -well-being of the island lives in a house much more like a palace than -Tongia’s modest hut, and is in truth the real ruler of the place. His -work, however, is not overpowering. He is supposed to be judge and -lawgiver, among many other duties, but in Niué no one ever seems to do -anything that requires punishment. There is nothing in the shape of a -prison, if any one did. Innocent little crimes, such as chicken stealing -with extenuating circumstances, or allowing pigs to trespass into -somebody’s garden, occasionally blot the fair pages of the island -records, but a little weeding, or a day’s work on the road is considered -sufficient punishment for these. At the time of my stay, which lasted -nearly two months, such a wave of goodness seemed to be passing over the -island that the Resident complained he could not find enough crime in -the place to keep his garden weeded, and declared that he really wished -somebody would do something, and do it quick, or all his imported -flowers would be spoiled! Since the forties, missionaries have been busy -in Savage Island, and there is no doubt that they have done their work -effectively. The early traders, who arrived near the same time, also -helped considerably in the civilisation of the natives. Drink has never -been a trouble on Niué, and at the present date, no native ever tastes -it, and strict regulations govern importation by the whites, for their -own use. The natives are healthy, although European diseases are by no -means unknown. Skin diseases are so troublesome that many of the traders -wash the money they get from the bush towns, before handling, and the -new-comer’s first days in the island are sure to be harassed by the -difficulties of avoiding miscellaneous hand-shaking. Knowing what one -knows about the prevalence of skin-troubles, one does not care to run -risks; but the Niuéan, like all islanders, has unfortunately learned the -habit of continual hand-shaking from his earliest teachers, and is never -likely to unlearn it. So the visitor who does not want to encounter -disappointed faces and puzzled inquiries, looks out old gloves to go -a-walking with, and burns them, once he or she is settled in the place, -and no longer a novelty. - -There are manners in Niué--of a sort. “Fanagé fei!” is the greeting -to any one met on the road, and it must not be left out, or the Savage -Islanders will say you have no manners. It means, “Where are you going?” - and it is not at all an empty inquiry, for you must mention the name -of your destination in reply, and then repeat the inquiry on your own -account, and listen for the answer. Riding across the island day by day, -I used to pass in a perfect whirlwind of “Where-are-you-goings?” - callings out hastily, as the horse cantered over the grassy road, -“Avatele,” or “Mutelau,” (names of villages) or “Misi Nicolasi” (Mrs. -Nicholas, a trader’s wife), and adding as I passed on: “Fanagé fei?” to -the man or woman who had greeted me. There was generally a long story in -reply, but I fear I was usually out of hearing before it was ended. My -manners, out riding, must have struck Niué as decidedly vulgar. - -It was during the first few days of my stay that I attained a -distinction that I had never hoped to see, and that I am not at all -likely to see again. I was made a headline; in a copybook! If that is -not fame, what is? - -The native school-teacher--a brown, black-eyed and bearded man of middle -age and dignified presence--had called at my house shortly after my -arrival, to display his English and his importance, and welcome the -stranger. He wanted, among a great many other things, to know what my -name was, and how it was spelt. I wrote it down for him, and he -carried it away, studying it the while. Next day, the copies set in the -principal school for the youth of Niué consisted of my name in full, -heading the following legend: “While this lady is in Niué, we must all -be very good.” Evidently a case of “Après moi le déluge!” - -Sitting on a box in my cool little shady house of a morning, writing -on my knee, with the whisper of the palms about the door, and the -empty changeless blue sea lying below, I used to receive visitor after -visitor, calling on different errands--some to sit on the verandah -and look at me in silence; some to come in, squat on the floor, and -discourse fluently for half an hour in a language I did not understand -(they never seemed distressed by the absence of replies); some to sell -curios; some to give dinners! - -You give dinners in Niué in a strictly literal sense. Instead of -bringing the guest to the dinner, you take the dinner to the guests and -then wait to see it eaten. It generally consists of a baked fish wrapped -in leaves, several lumps of yam, hot and moist, and as heavy as iron, a -pudding made of mashed pumpkin and breadfruit, another made of bananas, -sugarcane, and cocoanut, some arrowroot boiled to jelly, and the -inevitable taro top and cocoanut cream--about which I must confess I was -rather greedy. The rest of the dinner I used to accept politely, as -it was set out on the floor, eat a morsel or two here and there, and -afterwards hand over the remainder to Kuru and his wife, who were always -ready to dispose of it. At the beginning, I used to offer gifts in -return, which were always refused. Then, acting on the advice of old -residents, I reserved the gift for a day or two, and presented it at the -first suitable opportunity. It was always readily accepted, when offered -after this fashion, and thus I learned one more lesson as to island -etiquette. - -“You’ll see a lot of stuff in travel books,” said an old resident to -me, “about the wonderful generosity of the island people, all over the -Pacific--how they press gifts of every kind on travellers, and won’t -take any return. Well, that’s true, and it’s not true. All the island -people love strangers, and are new-fangled with every fresh face, and -they do come along with presents, but as to not wanting a return, why, -that isn’t quite the case. They won’t take payment, mostly, and there’s -very few places where they’ll even take a present, right off. But they -always expect something back, some time. I know that isn’t what the -books say, but books are mostly wrong about anything you’ve got to go -below the top of things to see--and the traveller likes that pretty -idea, of getting presents for nothing, too much to give it up easily. -Still, you may take my word for it that the natives _will_ take a return -for anything and everything they give you, here and everywhere else, -unless it’s a drink of cocoanut, or a bit of fruit they offer you on -the road, or maybe a bit of dinner, if you’d drop in on them at meals. -Set presents you’ve got to pay for, and more than their value too, if -you take them. I don’t myself, I find native presents too expensive.” - -What do you want to give? Oh, well, if a woman brings you in a dinner -or two, give her a trade silk handkerchief, one of those shilling ones, -some day. Or if they bring you baskets of fruit, give them a couple of -sticks of tobacco. They’ll take payment for fruit here, in that way, at -any time. You’ll need to give some things when you’re going away, to the -people you’ve seen most of--a few yards of cotton, or something of -that kind. White people are expected to give presents, all over the -island--it needn’t be dear things, but it ought to be something. - -If the lords and folk who have been round the Pacific in their yachts -only heard what the natives say of them, because they didn’t know that, -they’d take care to bring a case or two of cheap stuff for presents next -time. ‘Not chief-like,’ is what the natives say--and I ask you yourself, -it isn’t ‘chief-like,’ is it, to take all you can get, and give not a -stick of niggerhead or an inch of ribbon in return? - -I’d think they’d be too proud--but then, I’m not a tourist trotting -round the globe, I’m only a man who works for his living. - -“As for yourself, you take my advice, and say right out you don’t want -the dinners, when they bring them. Yes, it’ll offend them, but you must -either do that, or pay for stuff you don’t want three days out of seven, -or six days, more likely, if they think you’re liberal-minded. You’ll -get no end of presents when you’re going away, pretty things enough, and -those will have to be paid for in presents, too. Better make it as cheap -as you can, meantime. - -“But those people who go travelling like princes, and load their cabins -up with spears and clubs and tappa-cloths and shells the natives have -given them everywhere they went--and not a farthing, or a farthing’s -worth, do they let it cost them from end to end--I tell you, they’re a -disgrace to England,” concluded my informant hotly. - -[Illustration: 0259] - -“I am quite sure it is simply because they do not know--how should -they?” I asked, trying to defend the absent globe-trotters. - -“Decent feeling ought to teach them!” declared the critic of manners, -who was evidently not to be pacified. - -I had my dinner to cook, so I went away, and left him still revolving -the iniquities of travelling milords in his memory. But I did not forget -the conversation, for it seemed to me that the facts about this matter -of present-giving and taking ought to be known as widely as possible. In -nearly two years of island travel that followed after those days, I had -full opportunity of proving the truth of the statements made by my Niué -acquaintance, and every experience only served to confirm them. - -Travellers who visit the islands should note this fact, and lay in a -stock of suitable goods at Sydney, which is the starting point for most -Pacific travel. There are various firms who make a speciality of island -trade, and these will usually sell any reasonable quantity at wholesale -prices. The natives of the Pacific, in general, are not to be put off -with worthless trifles as presents, nor do they care for beads, unless -in the few groups still remaining uncivilised. They like best the sort -of goods with which they are already familiar, and do not care for -“imported” novelties. Silk handkerchiefs are liked everywhere, and -they are easy to carry. Cotton or silk stuff is much valued. Imitation -jewellery--brooches, pins, etc.--is valued quite as much as real, except -in Niué, where the natives seem to have a natural craving and liking -for precious metals. Tinned foods of all kinds, and sweets, are perhaps -better appreciated than anything else. Tinned salmon in especial, is -the safest kind of “tip” than can be given to any native, from a lordly -Samoan chief, down to a wild “bushie” from the Solomons. - -Withal, one must not take away the character of the island world for -hospitality, because of its childlike fancy for presents. Many and many -a destitute white man can tell of the true generosity and ungrudging -kindness he has met with at the hands of the gentle brown men and women, -when luck was hard and the whites would have none of him. They are not -fair-weather friends, in the European sense of the word. True, when the -weather is sunny with you, they will come round and bask in the warmth, -and share your good luck. But when the rainy days come, they will share -all they have with you, just as freely, and they will not look for -presents, then. - -The industries of the island filled up many a pleasant morning. Niué -is supposed to be the most hard-working of all the Pacific islands, and -certainly its people do not seem to eat the bread of idleness. Here, -there is no lounging and dreaming and lotus-eating on the sounding coral -shore--perhaps there isn’t much shore anyway; perhaps because the Savage -Islander is not made that way. The food of the people consists largely -of yams, and in a country which has hardly any depth of soil, these are -hard to grow, and need care. The bananas are grown in the most wonderful -way in the clefts of the coral rocks, so that they actually appear to be -springing out of the stone. Copra is made in fair quantity, and many -of the people spend the greater part of their time collecting a certain -kind of fungus which is exported to Sydney, and used (or so report -declares) for making an imitation of birds’ nest soup in China. - -[Illustration: 0267] - -The proportion of women on the island is very large, because there -are always at least a thousand men, out of a total population of five -thousand souls, away working elsewhere. The Niuéan is a bit of a miser, -and will do anything for money. He engages, therefore, as a labourer in -the plantations of Samoa, where the natives will not do any work they -can avoid, or goes up to Malden Island to the guano pits, or takes a -year or two at sea on an island schooner, or goes away as fireman on the -missionary steamer--anything to make money. Meantime his women-kind stay -at home and keep themselves. They work about the white people’s houses, -they act as stevedores to the ships, they fetch and carry all over the -island. When I wanted two heavy trunks conveyed a distance of six miles -one day, four sturdy Niué girls came to do the work; slung the trunks -on two poles, trotted away with them, and reached the end of the journey -before my lazy horse had managed to carry me to my destination. They do -an immense amount of plaiting work--mats, fans, baskets, and above all, -hats, of which the annual export runs into thousands of dozens. These -hats are made of fine strips of dried and split pandanus leaf; they much -resemble the coarser kind of Panama, and give excellent shade and wear. -They are worn over the whole Pacific, and a great part of New Zealand, -and, I strongly suspect, are exported to England under the name, and at -the price of second-grade Panamas. A clever worker will finish one in -a day. Much of the plaiting is done in caves in the hot season, as the -material must be kept fairly cool and moist. - -[Illustration: 0276] - -When the Niué folks are not working, they idle a little at times, -but not very much. They sing in chorus occasionally, but it is not -an absorbing occupation with them, and they do not dance a great deal -either, since the advent of missionary rule. Their chief amusement is -an odd one--walking round the island. You can scarcely take a long ride -without encountering a stray picnic party of natives, mostly women, -striding along at a good round pace, and heavily laden with fruit, -food, and mats. They always complete the journey--forty miles--in a -day, picknicking on the roadside for meals, and seem to enjoy themselves -thoroughly. The strenuous life, exemplified after this fashion, is -certainly the last thing one would expect to find in the Pacific. But -then, the great fascination of the island world lies in the fact that -here, as nowhere else, “only the unexpected happens.” - -***** - -It is a day of molten gold, with a sea coloured like a sheet of sapphire -glass in a cathedral window. I am busy washing up my breakfast things -at the door (there is no false shame about the performance of domestic -duties in the capital city of Niué) when a couple of native girls appear -on the grass pathway, their wavy hair loose and flowing, their white -muslin dresses kilted up high over strong brown limbs. Each carries -a clean “pareo” in her hand. They are going for a swim, one of them -informs me in broken English: will I come too? - -Of course I will. I get out my own bathing dress, and follow the pair -down the cliff, scrambling perilously from crag to crag, until we reach -a point where it is possible to get down on to the narrow rocky ledge at -the verge of the sea. Within the reef here there is a splendid stretch -of protected water, peacock-blue in colour, immensely deep, and almost -cold. There are no sharks about here, the girls tell me, and it is an -excellent place for a swim. - -[Illustration: 0288] - -Oh, for a Royal Academician to paint the picture made by the younger -girl, as she stands on the edge of the rocks ready to leap in, dressed -in a bright blue scarf that is wound round and round her graceful bronze -body from shoulder to knee, and parting her full wavy hair aside with -slender dark fingers! Beauty of form did not die out with the ancient -Greeks: the Diana of the Louvre and the Medici Venus may be seen any day -of any year, on the shores of the far-away islands, by those who know -lovely line when they see it, and have not given over their senses, -bound and blinded, to the traditions of the schools. If there is any man -in the world to-day who can handle a hammer and chisel as Phidias did, -let him come to the South Sea Islands and look there for the models -that made the ancient Greek immortal. The sculptor who can mould a young -island girl, Tahitian for the Venus type, Samoan for the Diana, or -a young island chief, like Mercury, in bronze, will give the world -something as exquisite and as immortal as any marvel from the hand of -Phidias or Praxiteles. - -My beautiful Niué girl was an exception, so far as her own island went. -Niué women are strong and well made, but not lovely as a rule. Her -companion was as sturdy as a cart-horse, but as plain as a pig. She -smoked a huge pipe, chewed plug tobacco, and laughed like a hyena. They -were truly a well-contrasted pair. - -The reef was a good way off, so we all struck out for that, when we -came up panting and blowing from our dive. The girls gave me a fine -exhibition of under-water swimming now and then, slipping easily -underneath the gleaming surface, and disappearing from view below, for -so long a time that one became quite nervous. My pretty little friend -persuaded me to accompany her once, and though I did not like it among -the ugly-looking coral caves, I dived for a short time, and endeavoured -to follow her flying heels. - -Under water among the coral reefs! It sounds romantic, but it was not -pleasant. Five feet beneath the surface, the light was as clear as day, -and one could see all about one, far too much, for the things that were -visible were disquieting. I knew extremely well that coral reefs are the -haunt of every kind of unpleasant sea-beast, and I fancied Victor Hugo’s -“pieuvre” at the very least, within the gloomy arch of every cave. There -were far too many fish also, and they were much too impertinent, and a -fish in one’s hair, even if harmless, is not nice. I had not gone down -much over a fathom, when I turned, and began to beat upwards again -looking eagerly at the light. And then I saw a thing that as nearly as -possible made me open my mouth and drown myself. - -It was merely a bunch of black waving trailers, coming out of the dark -of the rocks, and spreading between me and the pale-green light of day. -I did not know what it was, and I do not know, to this day. And, like -the runaway soldier in the poem, “I don’t know where I went to, for I -didn’t stop to see.” I was on the top of the water, twenty yards away, -and swimming at racing speed, when I realised the fact that I was still -alive, some moments later. And on the surface I stayed, for the rest -of the swim. The native girls were exceedingly amused, for the islander -fears nothing that is in the water or under it; but I did not mind their -laughing. - -One of them then, as she swam along, began laying her mouth to the -surface of the water, and blowing bubbles, laughing all the time. She -insisted that I should do it too, and I imitated her, at which she -seemed delighted. “That what we doing, suppose some shark come,” she -explained, “shark he plenty frighten, no like that.” - -We practised this useful accomplishment for some time, and then -went ashore again. I regret to say that I roused the amusement of my -companions yet again, before we landed, by making hasty exclamations, -and dodging rapidly away from the embraces of a black-and-white banded -snake, about four feet long, that suddenly appeared from nowhere in -particular, moving very swiftly, and seemed disposed to argue the right -of way. The lagoon at Raratonga had not prepared me for the Zoological -Garden in which one had to bathe at Niué. - -“Snake he no harm,” said my Venus Anadyomene, as she stood on the rock, -with her bathing scarf in her hand, wringing it out in the calmest -manner in the world. - -“Plenty-plenty snake stop there.” - -There were indeed plenty of snakes. One could see them any fine day from -the top of the cliffs, gliding through the water below, or lying on -the rocks in family parties of a score or two, conspicuous at a great -distance, because of their handsome black-and-white banded skins. As -to there being no harm--well, I never heard of any one in Niué -being injured. But a boy in Fiji trod on one of these checkerboarded -creatures, about that time, and died in half an hour from its bite. I am -strongly inclined to think that the Niué snake is poisonous, like almost -all sea-snakes, though it does not seem at all ready to attack. - -What was it I saw under water? I never knew, but I guessed as much as -I wanted, a day or two later, when I saw a native, fishing on the -reef near my bathing-place, draw up a big devil-fish, with eight limp -dangling arms’ over six feet long, and carry it away. A trader told me -that he had once pulled up one himself, while out fishing in a light -canoe, and that it seized hold of the little boat, and made such a fight -that he barely escaped with his life. It is the pleasant habit of this -fish, when attacked by a human being, to fling its hideous tentacles -over his head and face, and force them up into eyes, nostrils, and -mouth, so as to suffocate him, if he cannot master the creature. - -“Do you think there were any sharks about the day I bathed?” I inquired. - -“Well, if the girls were blowing, I should say there must have been. -They wouldn’t do it for fun altogether,” he replied. - -“Surely they wouldn’t bathe, if they knew there were any about?” - -“Oh, wouldn’t they, though! _They_ don’t mind them. No native is afraid -of anything in the sea.” - -I believed this with reservations, until a day came in another island, -when I nearly furnished a dinner for a shark myself, and thenceforth -gave up bathing in unprotected tropical waters, for good. It was in -Rakahanga, many hundreds of miles nearer the Line, and I had left the -schooner to enjoy a walk and a bathe. A native Rakahangan girl, who had -never seen a white woman before, and was wildly excited at the thought -of going bathing with this unknown wonder, found a boat for me, and -allowed me to pick my own place in the inner lagoon of the island. I -chose a spot where the lagoon narrowed into a bottle-neck communicating -with the sea, and we-started our swim. The girl, however, much to my -surprise, would not go more than a few yards from the boat, and declined -to follow me when I struck out for the open water. I had been assured -by her, so far as my scanty knowledge of Maori allowed me to understand, -that there were no sharks, so her conduct seemed incomprehensible until -a stealthy black fin, shaped like the mainsail of a schooner, rose out -of the water a few score yards away, and began making for me! - -The native girl was first into the boat, but I was assuredly not long -after her. The back fin did not follow, once I was out of the water. But -the heat of that burning day far up towards the Line, was hardly enough -to warm me, for half an hour afterwards. - -I found, on asking the question that I should have asked first of all, -that the bottle-neck entrance of the lagoon was a perfect death-trap of -sharks, and that more than one native had been eaten there. - -“Why on earth did the girl tell me there were none, and why did she -venture into such a place herself?” I asked. - -“Well,” said the only white man on the island, “I should think she knew -that any shark will take a white person, and leave a native, if there’s -a choice. And if you had that red bathing-dress on that you’re carrying, -why, you were simply making bait of yourself!” - -“But why should she want to see me killed?” - -“Oh, she didn’t. She only wanted to have the fun of a bathe with a white -woman, and just took the chances!” - -So much about bathing, in the “sunny isles of Eden.” One is sorry to -be obliged to say that it is one of the disappointments of the Pacific. -Warm, brilliant water, snowy coral sands, and glancing fish of rainbow -hues, are charming accompaniments to a bath, no doubt, but they are too -dearly paid for when snakes, sharks, sting-rays, and devil-fish have to -be counted into the party. - -***** - -Nothing in curious Niué is quite so curious as the native fancies about -ghosts and devils. In spite of their Christianity, they still hold fast -to all their ancient superstitions about the powers of evil. - -Every Savage Islander believes, quite as a matter of course, that ghosts -walk the roads and patrol the lonely bush, all night long. Some are -harmless spirits, many are malignant devils. After dark has fallen, -about six o’clock, no one dares to leave his house except for some very -important errand; and if it is necessary to go out so late as nine -or ten o’clock, a large party will go together--this even in the town -itself. Every native has a dog or two, of a good barking watchdog breed, -not to protect property, for theft is unknown, but to drive away ghosts -at night! Devil possession is believed in firmly. When a man, takes -sick, his neighbours try, in a friendly manner, to “drive the devil out -of him.” Perhaps they hang him up by his thumbs; possibly they put his -feet in boiling water, causing fearful scalds; or they may drive sharks’ -teeth into him here and there. But the most popular method is plain and -simple squeezing, to squeeze the devil out! This often results in broken -ribs, and occasionally in death. It is a curious fact, in connection -with this “squeezing,” that the natives are remarkably expert -“masseurs,” and can “drive the devil” out of a sprain, or a headache, or -an attack of neuralgia, by what seems to be a clever combination of the -“pétrissage” and “screw” movement of massage. This, they say, annoys -the devil so much that he goes away. Applied to the trunk, however, -and carried out with the utmost strength of two or three powerful men, -Savage Islander massage is-(as above stated) often fatal--and small -wonder! - -When a man has died, from natural or unnatural causes, a great feast -is held of baked pig and fowl, yams, taro, fish, and cocoanuts. Presents -are given to the dead man’s relatives, as at a wedding, and other -presents are returned by them to the men who dig the grave. The corpse -is placed in a shallow hole, wrapped in costly mats; and then begins -the ghostly life of the once-loved husband or father, who now becomes a -haunting terror to those of his own household. Over his grave they erect -a massive tomb of concrete and lime, meant to discourage him, so far -as possible, from coming out to revisit the upper world. They gather -together roots of the splendid scarlet poinsettia, gorgeous hibiscus, -and graceful wine-coloured foliage plants, and place them about his -tomb, to make it attractive to him. They collect his most cherished -possessions--his “papalangi” (white man’s) bowler hat, which he used to -wear on Sundays at the five long services in the native church; his best -trousers; his orange-coloured singlet with pink bindings; his tin mug -and plate--and place them on the grave. Savage Island folk are very -avaricious and greedy; yet not a soul will dare to touch these valuable -goods; they lie on the grave, in sun and storm, until rotted or -broken. If it is a woman’s grave, you may even see her little hand -sewing-machine (almost every island in the Pacific possesses scores -of these) placed on the tomb, to amuse the ghost in its leisure hours. -There will be a bottle of cocoanut hair-oil, too, scented with “tieré” - flowers, and perhaps a little looking-glass or comb--so that we can -picture the spirit of the dark-eyed island girls, like mermaids, coming -forth at night to sit in the moonlight and dress their glossy hair--if -ghosts indeed have hair like mortal girls! - -[Illustration: 0296] - -Mosquito-curtains, somewhat tattered by the wind, can be seen on many -graves, carefully stretched over the tomb on the regulation uprights -and cross-pieces, as over a bed. This is, no doubt, intended to help the -ghost to lie quiet, lest the mosquitoes should annoy it so much that it -be driven to get up and walk about. Certainly, if a Savage Island ghost -does walk, it is not because every care is not taken to make it (as the -Americans would say) “stay put.” - -There are no graveyards on the island. Every man is buried on his own -land, very often alongside the road, or close to his house. The thrifty -islanders plant onions and pumpkins on the earth close about the tomb, -and enjoy the excellent flavour imparted to these vegetables by the -essence of dead ancestor which they suck up through the soil. In odd -contradiction to this economical plan, a “tapu” is placed upon all the -cocoanut trees owned by the deceased; and for a year or more valuable -nuts are allowed to lie where they fall, sprouting into young plants, -and losing many tons of copra annually to the island. Groups of palms -unhealthily crowded together, bear witness everywhere to the antiquity -of this strange practice. - -The main, and indeed the only good road, across the island, owns a -spot of fearsome reputation. On a solitary tableland, swept by salt -sea-winds, stand certain groups of clustered cocoa-palms, sprung from -tapu’s nuts on dead men’s lands. Here the natives say, the ghosts and -devils have great power, and it is dangerous to walk there at night -alone, even for white men, who take little account of native spirits. -Many of the white traders of the island are shy of the spot; and some -say that when riding in parties across the island at night, their horses -shy and bolt passing the place, and exhibit unaccountable fear. Only a -year or two ago, a terrible thing happened in this desolate spot, as -if to prove the truth of local traditions. There was one native of the -island, a “witch-doctor,” learned in charms and spells, who professed -not to be afraid of the devils. He could manage them, he said; and to -prove it, he used sometimes to walk alone across the island at night. -One morning, he did not return from an excursion of this nature. The -villagers set out in a body to look for him in the broad light of the -tropical sun. They found him, at the haunted spot, lying on the ground -dead. His face was black and his body horribly contorted. The devils -had fought him, and conquered him--so the natives said. And now no gold -would induce a Savage Islander to pass the fatal spot after dark. - -I asked the white missionary doctor resident at the time of my visit on -the island, if he could account for the death. He said that he had not -held a post-mortem and therefore could not say what the cause might be; -but the appearance of the corpse was undoubtedly as described by the -natives. - -Being anxious to investigate the truth of these stories, I determined -to spend a night on the spot, and see what happened. The natives were -horrified beyond measure at the idea; and when an accident on a coral -reef laid me up from walking exercise until just before the schooner -called again at the island to take me away--thus preventing me from -carrying out the plan--they were one and all convinced that the fall -was the work of devils, anxious to prevent me from meddling with their -doings! - -The problem, then, remained unsolved, and rests open to any other -traveller to investigate. But as Savage Island lies far off the track -of the wandering tourist, its ghosts are likely to remain undisturbed in -their happy hunting-grounds for the present. - -Mrs. Joe Gargery would certainly have liked Niué, for it is a place -where there is none of the “pompeying” so obnoxious to her Spartan soul. -And yet, if you stay there long, you will find out that Savage Island -practises certain of the early Christian virtues, if it has dropped a -few of its luxuries manufactured by civilisation. If you want a horse to -ride across the island--a gentle, native creature that goes off at both -ends, like a fire-cracker, when you try to mount, biting and kicking -simultaneously, and, when mounted, converts your ride into a sandwich of -jibbing and bolting, you will call in at the nearest trader’s, and tell -him you want his horse and his neighbour’s saddle and whip. All these -will appear at your door, with a couple of kindly messages, in half an -hour. You will time your arrival at the different villages so as to hit -off some one’s meal-hours, walk in, ask for a help of the inevitable -curried tin, and carry off a loaf of bread or a lump of cake, if your -host happens to have baked that morning and you have not. When a ship -comes in--perhaps the bi-yearly steamer from Samoa, with real mutton -and beef in her ice-chest--and the capital gorges for two days, you, -the stranger within their gates, will meet hot chops walking up to your -verandah between two hot plates, and find confectioners’ paper bags full -of priceless New Zealand potatoes, sitting on your doorstep. You will -learn to shed tears of genuine emotion at the sight of a rasher of -bacon, and to accept with modest reluctance the almost too valuable gift -of one real onion. Hospitality among the white folk of Savage Island -is hospitality, and no mistake, and its real generosity can only be -appreciated by those who know the supreme importance assumed by “daily -bread,” when the latter is dependent upon the rare and irregular calls -of passing ships. - -For, like a good many Pacific Islands, this coral land is more beautiful -than fertile. Its wild fantastic rocks, which make up the whole surface -of the island, produce in their clefts and hollows enough yam, taro, -banana, and papaw to feed the natives; but the white man wants more. -Tins are his only resource--tins and biscuits, for flour does not keep -long, and bread is often unattainable. Fowls or eggs can seldom be -bought, for the reason that some one imported a number of cats many -years ago; these were allowed to run wild in the bush, and have now -become wild in earnest, devouring fowls, and even attacking dogs and -young pigs at times. Why, then, if the island is valueless to Europeans, -and the life hard, do white men live in Savage Island and many similar -places? For the reason that fortunes have been piled up, in past years, -by trading in such isolated spots, and that there is still money to -be made, though not so much as of old. Trading in the Pacific is a -double-barrelled sort of business. You settle down on an island where -there is a good supply of copra (dried cocoa-nut kernel, manufactured -by the natives). You buy the copra from the islanders at about £8 a -ton, store it away in your copra-house until the schooner or the steamer -calls, and then ship it off to Sydney, where it sells at £13 to £14 a -ton. Freight and labour in storing and getting on board, eat into the -profits. But, in addition to buying, the trader sells. He has a store, -where cheap prints, violent perfumes, gaudy jewellery, tapes and buttons -and pins and needles, tins of beef, shoes, etc., are sold to the -natives at a price which leaves a very good profit on their cost down in -Auckland. - -The laws of all the Pacific Colonies forbid the white trader to buy from -the natives, except with cash; but, as the cash comes back to him before -long over the counter of the store, it comes to much the same in the end -as the old barter system of the early days, out of which money used to -be, quickly and easily made. Sometimes the trader, if in a small way -of business, sells his copra to captains of calling ships at a smaller -price than the Auckland value. But nowadays so many stores are owned by -big Auckland and Sydney firms that most of the stuff is shipped off for -sale in New Zealand or Australia. “Panama” hats, already mentioned, -are a very important article of commerce here. Every island has some -speciality of its own besides the inevitable copra; and the trader -deals in all he can get. The trader’s life is, as a rule, a pleasant -one enough. Savage Island is one of the worst places where he could find -himself; and yet the days pass happily enough in that solitary outlier -of civilisation. There is not much work to do; the climate is never -inconveniently hot; the scenery, especially among the up-country -primaeval forests, is very lovely. There is a good deal of riding and -bathing, a little shooting, and a myriad of wild and fantastic caves to -explore when the spirit moves one. The native canoes are easy to manage -and excellent to fish from. - -[Illustration: 0303] - -It is traditional in Savage Island for the few white people--almost all -rival traders--to hang together, and live in as friendly a manner as a -great family party. If the great world is shut out, its cares are shut -away, and life sits lightly on all. No one can be extravagant; no -one can “keep up appearances” at the cost of comfort; no one is -over-anxious, or worried, or excited over anything’--except when the -rare, the long-expected ship comes in, and the natives rend the air with -yells of joy, and the girls cocoanut-oil their hair, and the white men -rush for clean duck suits and fresh hats, and the mails come in, and the -news is distributed, and cargoes go out, and every one feasts from dawn -till dusk, and all the island is in a state of frantic ebullition for at -least three days. Then, indeed, Niué is alive. - -We were all getting hungry when the _Duchess_ came in again, after -nearly two months’ absence, for provisions were short, and most of -us had come down to eating little green parrots out of the bush, and -enjoying them, for want of anything better. It was certainly tantalising -to see the ship off the island beating about for three days and more, -before she was able to approach, but that is an usual incident in Niué. -She came up at last, and I got my traps on board, and paid my bills, and -carried away the model canoes and shell necklaces, and plaited hats and -baskets, that were brought me as parting presents, and gave-a number of -yards of cotton cloth, and a good many silk handkerchiefs, in return. -And so the big sails were hoisted once more with a merry rattling and -flapping, and away we went, northward a thousand miles, to desolate, -burning Penrhyn and Malden Island. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -_A Life on the Ocean Wave--Where They kept the Dynamite--How far from -an Iced Drink?--The Peacefulness of a Pacific Calm--A Golden Dust -Heap--Among the Rookeries--Sailing on the Land--All about Guano._ - -THE pirate captain was gone when the schooner reappeared off Niué, and -a certain ancient mariner had taken his place. Things were not quite -so exciting on the _Duchess_ under the new régime, but the order which -reigned on board was something awful; for the ancient mariner had been a -whaling captain in his day, and on whaling ships it is more than on any -others a case of “Growl you may, but go you must,” for all the crew. -The ancient mariner was as salty a salt as ever sailed the ocean. He had -never been on anything with steam in it, he was as tough as ship-yard -teak, and as strong as a bear, though he was a grandfather of some -years’ standing, and he was full of strange wild stories about the -whaling grounds, and odd happenings in out-of-the-way comers of the -Pacific--most of which he seemed to consider the merest commonplaces of -a prosaic existence. - -We suffered many things from the cook, in the course of that long -burning voyage towards the Line. The _Duchess’s_ stores were none of -the best, and the cook dealt with them after a fashion that made me -understand once for all the sailor saying: “God sends meat, and the -devil sends cooks.” Pea-soup, salt pork and beef, plum duff, ship’s -biscuit, sea-pie--this was the sort of food that, in the days before -I set foot on the _Duchess_, I had supposed to form the usual table of -sailing vessels. I fear it was a case of sea-story-books, over again. -What we did get was “tinned rag” of a peculiarly damp and viscous -quality, tea that usually tasted of cockroaches, biscuit that was so -full of copra bugs we had to hammer it on the table before eating it, an -occasional tin of tasteless fruit (it ran out very soon), and bread that -was a nightmare, for the flour went musty before we were out a week, -and the unspeakable cook tried to disguise its taste with sugar. -Board-of-trade limejuice, which is a nauseous dose at best, we were -obliged, by law to carry, and I think we must have run rather near -scurvy in the course of that long trip, for the amount of the oily, -drug-flavoured liquid that the mates and myself used to drink at times, -seemed to argue a special craving of nature. But _à la guerre comme à -la guerre_--and one does not take ship on a Pacific windjammer expecting -the luxuries of a P. and O. - -We were not going direct to Malden, having to call first at Samoa and -Mangaia. Three days of rough rolling weather saw us in Apia, about -which I have nothing to say at present, since I paid a longer visit to -Stevenson’s country later on. We had about forty native passengers to -take on here for the Cook Islands and Malden. There was nowhere to put -them, but in the South Seas such small inconveniences trouble nobody. - -I am very strongly tempted here to tell about the big-gale that caught -us the first night out, carried away our lifeboat, topsail, topgallant, -and main gaff, swamped the unlucky passengers’ cabin, and caused -the Cingalese steward to compose and chant all night long a litany -containing three mournful versicles: “O my God, this is too much -terrible! O my#God, why I ever go to sea! O my God, I never go to sea -again!” But in the Pacific one soon learns that sea etiquette makes -light of such matters. So the wonderful and terrible sights which I saw -once or twice that night, clinging precariously to anything solid near -the door of my cabin, and hoping that the captain would not catch me out -on deck, must remain undescribed. - -Nearly seven weeks were occupied by this northern trip--time for a mail -steamer to go out from London to New Zealand, and get well started on -the way home again. We were, of course, entirely isolated from news and -letters; indeed, the mails and papers that we carried conveyed the very -latest intelligence to islands that had not had a word from the outer -world for many months. Our native passengers, who were mostly going up -to Malden Island guano works as paid labourers, evidently considered -the trip one wild scene of excitement and luxury. The South Sea Islander -loves nothing more than change, and every new island we touched at was -a Paris or an Ostend to these (mostly) untravelled natives. Their -accommodation on the ship was not unlike that complained of by the -waiter in “David Copperfield.” They “lived on broken wittles and they -slept on the coals.” The _Duchess_ carried benzoline tins for the -feeding of the futile little motor that worked her in and out of port, -and the native sleeping place was merely the hold, on top of the tins. - -[Illustration: 0325] - -“Do you mind the dynamite remaining under your bunk?” asked the ancient -mariner, shortly after we left Samoa. - -“_Under my bunk?_” - -“Yes--didn’t you know it was there? The explosives safe is let into the -deck just beneath the deck cabin. I’ll move it if you’re nervous about -it--I thought I’d tell you, anyways. But it’s the best place for it to -be, you see, right amidships.” And the ancient mariner, leaning his six -foot two across the rail, turned his quid, and spat into the deep. - -“What do we want with dynamite, anyhow?” asked the bewildered passenger, -confronted with this new and startling streak of local colour. - -“_We_ don’t want none. The Cook Islands wants it for reefs.” - -“Oh, leave it where it is--I suppose it’s all the same in the end where -it starts from, if it did blow up,” says the passenger resignedly. “What -about the benzoline in the hold, though?” - -“Every one’s got to take chances at sea,” says the captain, easily. -“The mates have orders to keep the natives from smokin’ in the hold at -night.” - -And at midnight, when I slip out of my bunk to look on and see what -the weather is like (it has been threatening all day), a faint but -unmistakable odour of island tobacco greets my nose, from the opening -of the main hatch! Benzoline, dynamite, natives smoking in the hold, -one big boat smashed, one small one left, forty native passengers, five -whites, and three hundred miles to the nearest land! - -Well, _à la guerre comme à la guerre_, and one must not tell tales at -sea. So I don’t tell any, though tempted. But I am very glad, a week -later, to see the Cook Islands rising up out of the empty blue again. -We have had head winds, we have been allowanced as to water, we are all -pleased to have a chance of taking in some fruit before we start on the -thousand miles’ run to Malden--and above all, we leave that dynamite -here, which is a good thing; for really we have been putting rather too -much strain on the good nature of the “Sweet little cherub that sits up -aloft, to keep guard o’er the life of poor Jack,” this last week or two. - -If proof were wanted that the cherub’s patience is about at an end, our -arrival at Mangaia furnishes it--for we do take fire after all, just a -couple of hundred yards from shore! - -It does not matter now, since half the natives of the island are about -the ship, and the case of explosives has just been rowed off in our only -boat, and the blaze is put out without much trouble. But, two days ago! - -Well, the sweet little cherub certainly deserved a rest. - -***** - -Now the _Duchess’s_ bowsprit was pointed northwards, and we set out on -a thousand miles’ unbroken run up to Malden Island, only four degrees -south of the Line. For nine days we ploughed across the same monotonous -plain of lonely sea, growing a little duller every day, as our stores of -reading matter dwindled away, and our fruit and vegetables ran out, -and the memory of our last fresh mess became only a haunting, far-off -regret. Squatting or lying about the white-hot poop in the merciless -sun--which burnt through our duck and cotton clothing, and scorched the -skin underneath, but was at least a degree better than the choking Hades -of a cabin below--we used to torture each other with reminiscences -and speculations, such as “They have real salt beef and sea-pie and -lobscouse and pea-soup, and things like that, every day on Robinson’s -schooner; no tinned rag and musty flour”; or “How many thousand miles -are we now from an iced drink?” This last problem occupied the mates and -myself for half a morning, and made us all a great deal hotter than we -were before. Auckland was about 2,300 miles away, San Francisco about -3,000 as far as we could guess. We decided for Auckland, and discussed -the best place to buy the drink, being somewhat limited in choice by -the passenger’s selfish insistence on a place where she could get really -good iced coffee. By the time this was settled, the captain joined in, -and informed us that we could get all we wanted, and fresh limes into -the bargain, only a thousand miles away, at Tahiti, which every one had -somehow overlooked. Only a thousand! It seemed nothing, and we all felt -(illogically) cheered up at the thought. - -Late in the afternoon we came near attaining our wish for a temperature -of thirty-two degrees in rather an unexpected way. The bottom of the -Pacific generally hovers about this figure, some miles below the burning -surface, which often reaches the temperature of an ordinary warm bath; -and the _Duchess_ had a fairly narrow escape of going down to look for -a cool spot without a return ticket. A giant waterspout suddenly formed -out of the low-hanging, angry sky that had replaced the clear heat of -the morning. First of all, a black trunk like an elephant’s began to -feel blindly about in mid-air, hanging from a cloud. It came nearer and -nearer with uncanny speed, drawing up to itself as it came a colossal -cone of turbulent sea, until the two joined together in one enormous -black pillar, some quarter of a mile broad at the base, and probably a -good thousand feet high, uniting as it did the clouds and the sea -below. Across the darkening sea, against the threatening, copper-crimson -sunset, came this gigantic horror, waltzing over leagues of torn-up -water in a veritable dance of death, like something blind, but mad and -cruel, trying to find and shatter our fragile little ship. Happily, the -dark was only coming, not yet come; happily, too, the wind favoured -us, and we were able to tack about and keep out of the way, dodging the -strangely human rushes and advances of the water-giant with smartness -and skill. At one time it came so close that the elephant trunk--now -separately visible again--seemed feeling about over our heads, although -the captain afterwards said it had been more than three hundred yards -away--and the immense maelstrom underneath showed us the great wall of -whirling spindrift that edged its deadly circle, as plain as the foam -about our own bows. Every one was quiet, cool, and ready; but no one -was sorry when the threatening monster finally spun, away to leeward and -melted into air once more. A waterspout of this enormous size, striking -a small vessel, would snap off her masts like sticks of candy, kill any -one who happened to be on deck, and most probably sink the ship with the -very impact of the terrible shock. - -“One doesn’t hear much about ships being sunk by waterspouts,” objected -the sceptical passenger to this last statement. - -“Ships that’s sunk by waterspouts doesn’t come back to tell the -newspapers about it,” said the captain darkly. - -Life on a South Sea schooner is not all romance. For the officers of -the ship it is a very hard life indeed. Native crews are the rule in -the South Seas, and native crews make work for every one, including -themselves. Absolutely fearless is the Kanaka, active as a monkey aloft, -good-natured and jolly to the last degree, but perfectly unreliable in -any matter requiring an ounce of thought or a pennyworth of discretion, -and, moreover, given to shirk work in a variety of ingenious ways -that pass the wit of the white man to circumvent. Constant and keen -supervision while at sea, unremitting hurry and drive in port, are the -duties of a South Sea mate, coupled with plenty of actual hard work on -his own account. I have known a case where a small schooner was leaking -badly, many days from port, and almost constant pumping was required. -The pump broke while in use; and the watch, delighted to be released, -turned in at eight bells without having done their spell, and without -reporting the accident. The water gained steadily, but that did not -trouble them; and when the mate discovered the accident, and set them to -mend the pump at once, they were both surprised and grieved! - -“Watch and watch” is the rule on small sailing-vessels: four hours on -and four hours off, day and night, except for the “dog watches,” four -to six and six to eight in the evening, which create a daily shift in -order that each man may be on watch at a different time on successive -days. Always provided, of course, that the ship has any watches at all! -I _have_ sailed in a Pacific schooner where the crew spent most of their -time playing the accordion and the Jew’s harp, and slept peacefully all -night. In the daytime there was generally some one at the wheel; but at -night it was usually lashed, and the ship was let run, with all sails -set, taking her chances of what might come, every soul on board being -asleep. One night the cook came out of his bunk to get a drink from the -tank, and found the vessel taken aback. The whole spirit of South -Sea life breathes from the sequel. He told nobody! The galley was his -department, not the sails; so he simply went back to his bunk. In the -morning we fetched up off the northern side of an island we had intended -to «approach from the south; having, strange to say, somehow escaped -piling our bones on the encircling reef, and also avoided the misfortune -of losing our masts and getting sunk. - -If there is a good deal of hard work on most schooners, and something -of risk on all, there is also plenty of adventure and romance, for those -who care about it. One seldom meets an island skipper whose life would -not furnish materials for a dozen exciting books. Being cut off and -attacked by cannibals down in the dangerous western groups; swimming for -dear life away from a boat just bitten in two by an infuriated whale; -driving one native king off his throne, putting another on, and acting -as prime minister to the nation; hunting up a rumour of a splendid pearl -among the pearling islands, and tracking down the gem, until found -and coaxed away from its careless owner at one-tenth Sydney market -prices--these are incidents that the typical schooner captain regards -as merely the ordinary kind of break to be expected in his rather -monotonous life. He does not think them very interesting as a rule, and -dismisses them somewhat briefly, in a yarn. What does excite him, cause -him to raise his voice and gesticulate freely, and induce him to “yarn” - relentlessly for half a watch, is the recital of some thrilling incident -connected with the price of cargo or the claims made for damaged stuff -by some abandoned villain of a trader. There is something worth relating -in a tale like that, to his mind! - -The passenger on an island schooner learns very early to cultivate a -humble frame of mind. On a great steam liner he is all in all. It is for -him almost entirely that the ships are built and run; his favour is -life or death to the company. He is handled like eggs, and petted like a -canary bird. Every one runs to do his bidding; he is one of a small but -precious aristocracy waited on hand and foot by the humblest of serfs. -On a schooner, however, he is ousted from his pride of place most -completely by the cargo, which takes precedence of him at every point; -so that he rapidly learns he is not of nearly so much value as a fat -sack of copra, and he becomes lowlier in mind than he ever was before. -There is no special accommodation for him, as a rule; he must go where -he can, and take what he gets. If he can make himself useful about the -ship, so much the better; every one will think more of him, and he will -get some useful exercise by working his passage in addition to paying -for it. - -Here is a typical day on the _Duchess_. - -At eight bells (8 a.m.) breakfast is served in the cabin. The -passenger’s own cabin is a small deck-house placed amidships on the main -deck. The deck is filled up with masses of cargo, interposing a perfect -Himalayan chain of mountains between the main deck and the poop. It is -pouring with tropical rain, but the big main hatch yawns half open on -one side, because of the native passengers in the hold. On the other -side foams a squally sea, unguarded by either rail or bulwark, since the -cargo is almost overflowing out of the ship. The _Duchess_ is rolling -like a porpoise, and the passenger’s hands are full of mackintosh and -hat-brim. It seems impossible to reach the poop alive; but the verb -“have to” is in constant use on a sailing-ship, and it does not fail -of its magical effect on this occasion. Clawing like a parrot, the -passenger reaches the cabin, and finds the bare-armed, barefooted mates -and the captain engaged on the inevitable “tin” and biscuits. There is -no tea this morning, because the cockroaches have managed to get into -and flavour the brew; and the cabin will none of it. The captain has -sent word by the native steward that he will “learn” the cook--a strange -threat that usually brings about at least a temporary reform--and is -now engaged in knocking the copra-bugs out of a piece of biscuit and -brushing a colony of ants off his plate. Our cargo is copra, and -in consequence the ship resembles an entomological museum more than -anything else. No centipedes have been found this trip so far; but the -mate-stabbed a big scorpion with a sail-needle yesterday, as it was -walking across the deck; and the cockroaches--as large as mice, and much -bolder--have fairly “taken charge.” The captain says he does not know -whether he is sleeping in the cockroaches’ bunk, or they in his, but he -rather thinks the former, since the brutes made a determined effort to -throw him out on the deck last night, and nearly succeeded! - -It grows very warm after breakfast, for we are far within the tropics, -and the _Duchess_ has no awnings to protect her deck. The rail is almost -hot enough to blister an unwary hand, and the great sails cast little -shade, as the sun climbs higher to the zenith. The pitch does not, -however, bubble in the seams of the deck, after the well-known fashion -of stories, because the _Duchess_, like most other tropical ships, has -her decks caulked with putty. A calm has fallen--a Pacific calm, which -is not as highly distinguished for calmness as the stay-at-home reader -might suppose. There is no wind, and the island we are trying to reach -remains tantalisingly perched on the extreme edge of the horizon, like a -little blue flower on the rim of a crystal dish. But there is plenty -of sea--long glittering hills of water, rising and falling, smooth and -foamless, under the ship, which they fling from side to side with cruel -violence. The great booms swing and slam, the blocks clatter, the masts -creak. Everything loose in the cabins toboggans wildly up and down the -floor. At dinner, the soup which the cook has struggled to produce, -lest he should be “learned,” has to be drunk out of tin mugs for safety. -Every one is sad and silent, for the sailor hates a calm even more than -a gale. - -Bonitos come round the ship in a glittering shoal by-and-by, and there -is a rush for hooks and lines. One of our native A.B.s produces a huge -pearl hook, unbaited, and begins to skim it lightly along the water at -the end of its line, mimicking the exact motions of a flying-fish with -a cleverness that no white man can approach. Hurrah! a catch! A mass of -sparkling silver, blue, and green, nearly twenty pounds weight, is swung -through the air, and tumbled on deck. Another and another follows; we -have over a hundred pounds weight of fish in half an hour. The crew -shout and sing for delight. There are only seven of them and five of us, -but there-will not be a scrap of that fish left by to-morrow, for all -the forecastle hands will turn to and cook and eat without ceasing until -it is gone; after which they will probably dance for an hour or two. - -To every one’s delight, the weather begins to cloud over again after -this, and we are soon spinning before a ten-knot breeze towards the -island, within sight of which we have been aimlessly beating about -for some days, unable to get up. Our crew begin to make preparations. -Tapitua, who is a great dandy, puts two gold earrings in one ear, and -fastens a wreath of cock’s feathers about his hat. Koddi (christened -George) gets into a thick blue woollen jersey (very suitable for -Antarctic weather), a scarlet and yellow pareo or kilt, and a pair -of English shoes, which make him limp terribly; but they are splendid -squeakers, so Koddi is happy. (The Pacific islander always picks out -squeaking shoes if he can get them, and some manufacturers even put -special squeakers into goods meant for the island trade.) Ta puts on -three different singlets--a pink, a blue, and a yellow--turning up the -edges carefully, so as to present a fine display of layered colours, -like a Neapolitan ice; and gums the gaudy label off a jam tin about his -bare brown arm, thus christening himself with the imposing title of “Our -Real Raspberry.” Neo is wearing two hats and three neck-handkerchiefs; -Oki has a cap with a “P. & O.” ribbon, and Union Steamship Company’s -jersey, besides a threepenny-piece in the hollow of each ear. Truly we -are a gay party, by the time every one is ready to land. - -And now after our thousand mile run, we have arrived at Malden. - -Malden Island lies on the border of the Southern Pacific, only four -degrees south of the equator. It is beyond the verge of the great -Polynesian archipelago, and stands out by itself in a lonely stretch of -still blue sea, very seldom visited by ships of any kind. Approaching it -one is struck from far away by the glaring barrenness of the big island, -which is thirty-three miles in circumference, and does not possess a -single height or solitary tree, save one small clump of recently planted -cocoanuts. Nothing more unlike the typical South Sea island could be -imagined. Instead of the violet mountain peaks, wreathed with flying -vapour, the lowlands rich with pineapple, banana, orange, and mango, the -picturesque beach bordered by groves of feathery cocoanuts and quaint -heavy-fruited pandanus trees, that one finds in such groups as the -Society, Navigator’s, Hawaiian, and Cook Islands, Malden consists simply -of an immense white beach, a little settlement fronted by a big wooden -pier, and a desolate plain of low greyish-green herbage, relieved here -and there by small bushes bearing insignificant yellow flowers. Water -is provided by great condensers. Food is all imported, save for pig -and goat flesh. Shade, coolness, refreshing fruit, pleasant sights and -sounds, there are none. For those who live on the island, it is the -scene of an exile which has to be endured somehow or other, but which -drags away with incredible slowness and soul-deadening monotony. - -Why does any one live in such a spot? More especially, why should it -be tenanted by five or six whites and a couple of hundred Kanakas, when -many beautiful and fertile islands cannot show nearly so many of either -race; quite a large number, indeed, being altogether uninhabited? One -need never look far for an answer in such a case. If there is no -comfort on Malden Island, there is something that men value more than -comfort--money. For fifty-six years it has been one of the most valuable -properties in the Pacific. Out of Malden Island have come horses and -carriages, fine houses, and gorgeous jewellery, rich eating, delicate -wines, handsome entertainments, university education and expensive -finishing governesses, trips to the Continent, swift white schooners, -high places in Society, and all the other desirables of wealth, for two -generations of fortunate owners and their families. Half-a-million hard -cash has been made out of it in the last thirty years, and it is good -for another thirty. All this from a barren rock in mid-ocean! The -solution of the problem will at once suggest itself to any reader who -has ever sailed the Southern Seas--guano! - -This is indeed the secret of Malden Island’s riches. Better by far -than the discovery of a pirate’s treasure-cave, that favourite dream -of romantic youth, is the discovery of a guano island. There are few -genuine treasure romances in the Pacific, but many exciting tales that -deal with the finding and disposing of these unromantic mines of wealth. -Malden Island itself has had an interesting history enough. In 1848, -Captain Chapman, an American whaling captain who still lives in -Honolulu, happened to discover Malden during the course of a long -cruise. He landed on the island, found nothing for himself and his crew -in the way of fruit or vegetables, but discovered the guano beds, and -made up his mind to sell the valuable knowledge as soon as his cruise -was over. Then he put to sea again, and did not reach San Francisco for -the best part of a year. Meantime, another American, Captain English, -had found the island and its treasure. Wiser than Captain Chapman, he -abandoned his cruise, and hurried at once to Sydney, where he sold the -island for a big price to the trading firm who have owned it ever since. - -This is the history of Malden Island’s discovery. Time, in the island, -has slipped along since the days of the Crimea with never a change. -There is a row of little tin-roofed, one-storeyed houses above the -beach, tenanted by the half-dozen white men who act as managers; there -are big, barn-like shelters for the native labourers. Every three years -the managers end their term of service, and joyfully return to -the Company’s great offices in Sydney, where there is life and -companionship, pleasant things to see, good things to eat, newspapers -every day, and no prison bar of blue relentless ocean cutting off all -the outer world. Once or twice in the year one of the pretty white -island schooners sails up to Malden, greeted with shrieks and war-dances -of joy; discharges her freight of forty or fifty newly indentured -labourers, and takes away as many others whose time of one year on the -island has expired. On Malden itself nothing changes. Close up to the -equator, and devoid of mountains or even heights which could attract -rain, its climate is unaltered by the passing season. No fruits or -flowers mark the year by their ripening and blossoming, no rainy season -changes the face of the land. News from the outer world comes rarely; -and when it does come, it is so old as to have lost its savour. Life on -Malden Island for managers and labourers alike, is work, work, all day -long; in the evening, the bare verandah and the copper-crimson sunset, -and the empty prisoning sea. That is all. - -The guano beds cover practically the whole of the island. The surface on -which one walks is hard, white, and rocky. This must be broken through -before the guano, which lies a foot or two underneath, is reached. The -labourers break away the stony crust with picks, and shovel out the -fine, dry, earth-coloured guano that lies beneath, in a stratum varying -from one to three feet in thickness. This is piled in great heaps, and -sifted through large wire, screens. The sifted guano--exactly resembling -common sand--is now spread out in small heaps, and left to dry -thoroughly in the fierce sun. There must not be any trace of moisture -left that can possibly be dispersed; for the price of the guano depends -on its absolute purity and extreme concentration, and purchasers -generally make careful chemical tests of the stuff they buy. - -When dried, the guano is stored away in an immense shed near the -settlement. If it has been obtained from the pits at the other side of -the island, eight miles away, it will be brought down to the storehouse -by means of one of the oddest little railways in the world. The Malden -Island railway is worked, not by steam, electricity, or petrol, but by -sail! The S.E. trade-wind blows practically all the year round on -this island; so the Company keep a little fleet of land-vessels, -cross-rigged, with fine large sails, to convey the guano down to -the settlement. The empty carriages are pushed up to the pits by the -workmen, and loaded there. At evening, the labourers climb on the top of -the load, set the great sails, and fly down to the settlement as fast -as an average train could go. These “land-ships” of Malden are a bit -unmanageable at times, and have been known to jump the rails when -travelling at high speed, thus causing unpleasant accidents. But the -Kanaka labourers do not mind a trifle of that kind, and not even in a -S.E. gale would they condescend to take a reef in the sails. - -As it is necessary to push these railway ships on the outward trip, the -managers generally travel on a small railway tricycle of the pattern -familiar at home. This can be driven at a fair speed, by means of arm -levers. Across the desolate inland plain one clatters, the centre of a -disk of shadowless grey-green, drenched clear of drawing and colour by -the merciless flood of white fire from above. The sky is of the very -thinnest pale blue; the dark, deep sea is out of sight. The world is -all dead stillness and smiting sun, with only the thin rattle of our -labouring car, and the vibration of distant dark specks above the -rookeries, for relief. - -The dark specks grow nearer and more numerous, filling the whole sky -at last with the sweep of rushing wings and the screams of angry bird -voices. We leave the tricycle on the rails and walk across the -thin, coarse grass, tangled with barilla plants, and low-growing -yellow-flowered shrubs, towards the spot where the wings flutter -thickest, covering many acres of the unlovely, barren land with a -perfect canopy of feathered life. This is the bird by which the fortunes -of Malden have been made--the smaller man-o’-war bird. It is about the -size of a duck, though much lighter in build. The back is black, the -breast white, the bill long and hooked. The bird has an extraordinarily -rapid and powerful flight. It might more appropriately be called the -“pirate” than the “man-o’-war” or “frigate” bird, since it uses, its -superior speed to deprive other seabirds of the fish they catch, very -seldom indeed exerting itself to make an honest capture on its own -account. Strange to say, however, this daring buccaneer is the meekest -and most long-suffering of birds where human beings are concerned. It -will allow you to walk all through its rookeries, and even to handle -the young birds and eggs, without making any remonstrance other than a -petulant squeal. The parents fly about the visitors’ heads in a perfect -cloud, sweeping their wings within an inch of our faces, screaming -harshly, and looking exceedingly fierce, with their ugly hooked bills -and sparkling black eyes. But that is their ordinary way of occupying -themselves; they wheel and scream above the rookery all day long, -visited or let alone. Even if you capture one, by a happy snatch (not -at all an impossible feat), you will not alarm the others, and your -prisoner will not show much fight. - -The eggs lie all over the ground in a mass of broken shells, feathers, -and clawed-up earth. Those birds never build nests, and only sit upon -one egg, which is dirty white, with brown spots. The native labourers -consider frigate-bird eggs good to eat, and devour large numbers, but -the white men find them too strong. The birds are also eaten by the -labourers, but only on the sly, as this practice is strictly forbidden, -for the reason that illness generally follows. The frigate-bird, it -seems, is not very wholesome eating. - -It is not in the insignificant deposits of these modern rookeries that -the wealth of the island lies, but in the prehistoric strata underlying -the stony surface crust already mentioned. There are three strata -composing the island--first the coral rock, secondly the guano, lastly -the surface crust. At one time, the island must have been the home of -innumerable myriads of frigate-birds, nesting all over its circumference -of thirty-three miles. The birds now nest only in certain places, and, -though exceedingly thick to an unaccustomed eye, cannot compare with -their ancestors in number. - -The schooner called on a Sunday, and so I could not see the men at work. -One of the managers, however, showed me over the labourers’ quarters, -and told me all about their life. There is certainly none of the -“black-birding” business about Malden. Kidnapping natives for plantation -work, under conditions which amount to slavery, is unfortunately still -common enough in some parts of the Pacific. But in the Cook Group, -and Savage Island, where most of the labourers come from, there is no -difficulty in obtaining as many genuine volunteers for Malden as its -owners want. The men sign for a year’s work, at ten shillings a week, -and board and lodging. Their food consists of rice, biscuits, yams, -tinned beef, and tea, with a few cocoanuts for those who may fall sick. -This is “the hoigth of good ’atin” for a Polynesian, who lives when -at home on yams, taro root, and bananas, with an occasional mouthful of -fish, and fowl or pig only on high festival days. - -The labourers’ quarters are large, bare, shady buildings fitted with -wide shelves, on which the men spread their mats and pillows to sleep. -A Polynesian is never to be divorced from his bedding; he always carries -it with him when travelling, and the Malden labourers each come to the -island provided with beautifully plaited pandanus mats, and cushions -stuffed with the down of the silk-cotton tree. The cushions have covers -of “trade” cottons, rudely embroidered by the owner’s sweetheart or wife -with decorative designs, and affectionate mottoes. - -From 5 a.m. to 5 p.m. are the hours of work, with an hour and -three-quarters off for meals. There is nothing unpleasant about the -work, as Malden Island guano is absolutely without odour, and apparently -so dry and fine when taken from the pits, that one wonders at the -necessity for further sifting and drying. Occasionally, however, one of -the workers develops a peculiar intestinal trouble which is said to be -caused by the fine dust of the pits. It is nearly always fatal, by slow -degrees. Our schooner carried away one of these unfortunates--a Savage -Island man who had come up to Malden in full health and strength only -a few months before. He was the merest shadow or sketch of a human -being--a bundle of bones clad in loose brown skin, with a skull-like -face, all teeth and eye-sockets--he could not stand or walk, only creep -along the deck; and he was very obviously dying. Poor fellow! he longed -for his own home above everything---the cool green island, sixteen -hundred miles away, where there were fruit and flowers in the shady -valleys, and women’s and children’s voices sounding pleasantly about the -grassy village streets, and his own little pandanus-thatched cottage, -with his “fafiné” and the babies at the door, among the palms and -oranges above the sea. But the schooner had a two months’ voyage to -make yet among the Cook and other groups, before Savage Island could be -reached; and Death was already lifting his spear to strike. We left -the poor fellow as a last chance on Penrhyn Island, a couple of hundred -miles away, hoping that the unlimited cocoanuts he could obtain there -might do him some good, and that by some fortunate chance he might -recover sufficiently to take another ship, and reach Niué at last. - -The guano of Malden Island is supposed to be the best in the world. It -is extremely rich in superphosphates, and needs no “doctoring” whatever, -being ready to apply to the land just as taken from the island. As the -company are obliged to guarantee the purity of what they sell, and give -an exact analysis of the constituents of every lot, they keep a skilled -chemist on the island, and place a fine laboratory at his disposal. -These analyses are tedious to make, and require great accuracy, as a -mistake might cause a refusal of payment on the part of the purchaser. -The post of official chemist, therefore, is no sinecure, especially -as it includes the duties of dispenser as well, and not a little -rough-and-ready doctoring at times. - -The temperature of the island is not so high as might be expected from -the latitude. It seldom goes above 90° in the shade, and is generally -rendered quite endurable, in spite of the merciless glare and total -absence of shade, by the persistent trade-wind. Mosquitoes are unknown, -and flies not troublesome. There are no centipedes, scorpions, or other -venomous creatures, although the neighbouring islands (“neighbouring,” - in the Pacific, means anything within three or four hundred miles) have -plenty of these unpleasant inhabitants. The white men live on tinned -food of various kinds, also bread, rice, fowls, pork, goat, and goat’s -milk. Vegetables or fruit are a rare and precious luxury, for the -nearest island producing either lies a thousand miles away. Big yams, -weighing a stone or two apiece and whitewashed to prevent decay, are -sent up from the Cook Islands now and then; but the want of really -fresh, vegetable food is one of the trials of the island. It is not -astonishing to hear that the salaries of the Malden officials are very -high. A year or two on the island is a good way of accumulating some -capital, since it is impossible to spend a penny. - -The native labourers generally leave the island with the greatest joy, -glad beyond expression to return to their sweet do-nothing lives at -home. Why they undertake the work at all is one of the many puzzles -presented by the Polynesian character. They have enough to eat and -enough to wear, without doing any work to speak of, while they are at -home. Usually the motive for going to Malden is the desire of making -twenty-five pounds or so in a lump, to buy a bicycle (all South Sea -Islanders have bicycles, and ride them splendidly) or to build a stone -house. But in most cases the money is “spreed” away in the first two -or three days at home, giving presents to everybody, and buying fine -clothes at the trader’s store. - -So the product of the year’s exile and hard work is simply a tour among -the islands--in itself a strong attraction--a horribly hot suit of -shoddy serge, with a stiff white shirt, red socks, and red tie, bought -up in Malden from the company out of the labourer’s wages, and proudly -worn on the day the schooner brings the wanderer home to his lightly -clad relatives--a bicycle, perhaps, which soon becomes a scrap-heap; -or, possibly, a stone house which is never lived in. The company has the -labour that it wants, and the money that the labour produces. Every one -is satisfied with the bargain, doubtless; and the faraway British farmer -and market-gardener are the people who are ultimately benefited. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -_Pearl-fishing at Penrhyn--The Beautiful Golden-Edge--Perils of the -Pearl Diver--A Fight for Life--Visit to a Leper Island--A God-forsaken -Place--How they kept the Corpses--The Woman who sinned--A Nameless -Grave--On to Merry Manahiki--The Island of Dance and Song--Story of the -Leper and his Bird--Good-bye to the Duchess._ - -A DAY or two after leaving Malden we sighted Penrhyn, lying five -degrees further south, but for some unexplained reason a very much -hotter place than Malden. Penrhyn is an island that is famous all over -the South Sea world, and not unknown even in Europe. Its pearl-shell and -pearls, its strange, wild, semi-amphibious natives, and its melancholy -leper station, make it a marked spot upon the Pacific map; and a certain -rather fictitious value attaching to its stamps has made the name of the -island familiar to all stamp collectors at home. The general impression -conveyed to the voyager from kinder and fairer islands is that Penrhyn -is a place “at the back of God-speed,” a lonely, sultry, windy, eerie -spot, desolate and remote beyond description. - -It is an atoll island, consisting merely of a strip of land some couple -of hundred yards in width, enclosing a splendid lagoon nine miles long. -The land is white coral gravel; nothing grows on it but cocoanut and -pandanus and a few insignificant creepers. Fruit, vegetables, flowers, -there are none. The natives live entirely on cocoanut and fish. They -are nominally Christianised, but the veneer of Christianity is wearing -uncommonly thin in places. They are reckless and daring to a degree, -notable even among Pacific Islanders. Any Penrhyn man will attack a -shark single-handed in its own element, and kill it with the big knife -he usually carries. They are, beyond comparison, the finest swimmers in -the world; it is almost impossible to drown a Penrhyn Islander. He -will swim all day as easily as he will walk. You may often meet him out -fishing, miles from shore, without a boat, pushing in front of him a -small plank that carries his bait, lines, and catch. Some of the fish -he most fancies seldom come to the surface. To catch these he baits his -line, dives, and swims about underneath the water for a minute or two at -a time, trailing the bait after him, and rising to the surface as often -as a fish takes it. - -[Illustration: 0339] - -Of his pearl-diving exploits I shall speak later. The deadly surf that -breaks upon the outer reef has no terrors for him. Among the small boys -of the island there is a favourite feat known as “crossing a hundred -waves,” which consists in diving through ninety-nine great rollers, just -as they are about to break, and rushing triumphantly to shore on the -back of the hundredth. The old warlike, quarrelsome character of the -islanders--no doubt originally due to scarcity of food--still lurks -concealed under an outward show of civility. Penrhyn was the only South -Pacific Island I have visited where I did not care to walk alone in the -bush without my little American revolver. The four or five white traders -all keep firearms ready to hand in their stores. There has been no -actual trouble of recent years, but there are narrow escapes from a -free fight every now and then, and every man must hold himself ready for -emergencies. It is only eight years since there was such an outbreak of -hostilities in Penrhyn that a man-of-war had to be sent up to protect -the traders. - -I was kindly offered the use of a house during the week the _Duchess_ -spent in Penrhyn lagoon repairing sails and rigging, and generally -refitting after the stormy weather that we had experienced on several -occasions. But Penrhyn is rotten with undeclared leprosy, the water -is not above suspicion, and flies abound in myriads. So I slept on the -ship, and by day wandered about the desolate, thin, sun-smitten woods -of the island, or flew over the green lagoon in one of the marvellously -speedy pearling sloops of the traders. These boats are about a couple -of tons each, with a boom as big, in proportion, as a grasshopper’s leg. -They are as manageable as a motor car, and faster than most yachts. -It is a wonderful sight to see them taking cargo out to the schooners, -speeding like gulls over the water, and turning round in their tracks to -fly back again as easily as any gull might do. Pearling was almost “off” - at the time of the _Duchess’s_ visit, since a good part of the lagoon -was tabooed to allow the beds to recover. - -The pearls are rather a minor consideration at Penrhyn. The shell is of -beautiful quality, large and thick, with the much-valued golden edge; -but pearls are not plentiful in it, and they are generally of moderate -size. Some very fine ones have been found, however; and gems of ordinary -value can always be picked up fairly cheaply from the divers. The -Penrhyn lagoon is the property of the natives themselves, who sell the -shell and the pearls to white traders. Christmas Island and some other -Pacific pearling grounds are privately owned, and in these places there -is a great deal of poaching done by the divers. The great buyers of -pearls are the schooner captains. There are three or four schooners that -call at Penrhyn now and then for cargo; and every captain has a nose for -pearls like that of a trained hound for truffles. In the Paumotus, about -Penrhyn, Christmas Island, and the Scillies (the Pacific Scillies, not -those that are so familiarly known to English readers), they flit from -island to island, following up the vagrant rumours of a fine pearl with -infinite tact and patience, until they run it to ground at last, and -(perhaps) clear a year’s income in a day by a lucky deal. San Francisco -and Sydney are always ready to buy, and the typical Pacific captain, if -he is just a bit of a buccaneer, is also a very keen man of business in -the most modern sense of the word, and not at all likely to be cheated. -Three native divers, famous for their deepwater feats, came out in a -pearling sloop with us one afternoon, and gave a fine exhibition. - -The bed over which we halted was about ninety feet under the surface. -Our three divers stripped to a “pareo” apiece, and then, squatting down -on the gunwale of the boat with their hands hanging over their knees, -appeared to meditate. They were “taking their wind,” the white steersman -informed me. After about five minutes of perfect stillness they suddenly -got up and dived off the thwart. The rest of us fidgeted up and down the -tiny deck, talked, speculated, and passed away the time for what seemed -an extraordinarily long period. No one, unfortunately, had brought a -watch; but the traders and schooner captains all agree in saying that -the Penrhyn diver can stay under water for full three minutes; and it -was quite evident that our men were showing off for the benefit of that -almost unknown bird, the “wahiné papa.” At last, one after another, the -dark heads popped up again, and the divers, each carrying a shell or -two, swam back to the boat, got on board, and presented their catch to -me with the easy grace and high-bred courtesy that are the birthright of -all Pacific islanders--not at all embarrassed by the fact that all the -clothes they wore would hardly have sufficed to make a Sunday suit for -an equal number of pigeons. - -As a general rule, the divers carry baskets, and fill them before coming -up. Each man opens his own catch at once, and hunts through the shell -for pearls. Usually he does not find any; now and then he gets a small -grey pearl, 01 a decent white one, or a big irregular “baroque” pearl of -the “new art” variety, and once in a month of Sundays he is rewarded -by a large gleaming gem worth several hundred pounds, for which he will -probably get only twenty or thirty. - -Diving dresses are sometimes used in Penrhyn; but in such an irregular -and risky manner that they are really more dangerous than the ordinary -method. The suit is nothing but a helmet and jumper. No boots are worn, -no clothing whatever on the legs, and there are no weights to -preserve the diver’s balance. It sometimes happens--though wonderfully -seldom--that the diver trips, falls, and turns upside down, the heavy -helmet keeping him head-downwards until the air all rushes out under -the jumper, and he is miserably suffocated. The air pump above is often -carelessly worked in any case, and there is no recognised system of -signals, except the jerk that means “Pull up.” - -“They’re the most reckless devils on the face of the earth,” said a -local trader. “Once let a man strike a good bed of shell, and he won’t -leave go of it, not for Father Peter. He’ll stick down there all day, -grabbin’ away in twenty fathom or more till he feels paralysis cornin’ -on----” - -“Paralysis?” - -“Yes--they gets it, lots of’em. If you was to go down in twenty -fathom--they can do five and twenty, but anything over is touch and -go--and stay ’alf the day, you’d come up ’owling like anything, and -not able to move. That’s the way it catches them; and then they must get -some one to come and rub them with sea water all night long, and maybe -they dies, and maybe they’re all right by morning. So then down they -goes again, just the same as ever. Sometimes a man’ll be pulled up dead -at the end of a day. How does that happen? Well, I allow it’s because -he’s been workin’ at a big depth all day, and feels all right; and then, -do you see, he’ll find somethin’ a bit extra below of him, in a holler -like, and down he’ll go after it; and the extra fathom or two does the -trick. - -“Sharks? Well, I’ve seen you poppin’ at them from the deck of the -_Duchess_, so you know as well as I do how many there are. Didn’t ’it -them, even when the fin was up? That’s because you ’aven’t greased -your bullet, I suppose. You want to, if the water isn’t to turn it -aside. But about the divers? Oh! they don’t mind sharks, none of them, -when they’ve got the dress on. Sharks is easy scared. You’ve only got to -pull up your jumper a bit, and the air bubbles out and frightens them -to fits. If you meet a big sting-ray, it’ll run its spine into you, and -send the dress all to--I mean, spoil the dress, so’s the water comes -in, and maybe it’ll stick the diver too. And the big devilfish is nasty; -he’ll ’old you down to a rock but you can use your knife on him. The -kara mauaa is the worst; the divers don’t like him. He’s not as big as -a shark, but he’s downright wicked, and he’s a mouth on him as big as -’alf his body. If one comes along, he’ll bite an arm or leg off -the man anyways, and eat ’im outright if he’s big enough to do it. -Swordfish? Well, they don’t often come into the lagoon; it’s the fishing -canoes outside they’ll go for. Yes, they’ll run a canoe and a man -through at a blow easy enough: but they don’t often do it. If you wants -a canoe, I’ll get you one; and you needn’t mind about the swordfish. As -like as not they’ll never come near you. - -“About the divin’?--well, I think the naked divin’ is very near as safe -as the machine, takin’ all things. Worst of it is, if a kara mauaa comes -along, the diver can’t wait his time till it goes. No, he doesn’t stab -it--not inside the lagoon, because there’s too many of them there, and -the blood would bring a whole pack about. He gets under a ledge of rock, -and ’opes it’ll go away before his wind gives out. If he doesn’t, he -gets eat.” - -Did Schiller, or Edgar Allan Poe ever conjure up a picture more ghastly -than that of a Penrhyn diver, caught like a rat in a trap by some huge, -man-eating shark, or fierce kara mauaa--crouching in a cleft of the -overhanging coral, under the dark green gloom of a hundred feet of -water, with bursting lungs and cracking eyeballs, while the threatening -bulk of his terrible enemy looms dark and steady, full in the road to -life and air? A minute or more has been spent in the downward journey; -another minute has passed in the agonised wait under the rock. Has he -been seen? Will the creature move away now, while there is still time to -return? The diver knows to a second how much time has passed; the third -minute is on its way; but one goes up quicker than one comes down, and -there is still hope. Two minutes and a half; it is barely possible -now, but------ The sentinel of death glides forward; his cruel eyes, -phosphorescent in the gloom, look right into the cleft where the -wretched creature is crouching, with almost twenty seconds of life still -left, but now not a shred of hope. A few more beats of the labouring -pulse, a gasp from the tortured lungs, a sudden rush of silvery air -bubbles, and the brown limbs collapse down out of the cleft like wreaths -of seaweed. The shark has his own. - -There is a “Molokai,” or Leper Island, some two miles out in the -lagoon, where natives afflicted with leprosy are confined. The Resident -Agent--one of the traders--broke the rigid quarantine of the Molokai one -day so far as to let me land upon the island, although he did not allow -me to approach nearer than ten or twelve yards to the lepers, or to -leave the beach and go inland to the houses that were visible in the -distance. Our boatmen ran the sloop close inshore, and carried the -captain and myself through the shallow water, carefully setting us down -on dry stones, but remaining in the sea themselves. A little dog that -had come with the party sprang overboard, and began swimming to the -shore. It was hurriedly seized by the scruff of its neck, and flung -back into the boat. If it had set paw on the beach it could never have -returned, but would have had to stay on the island for good. - -Very lovely is the Molokai of Penrhyn; sadly beautiful this spot where -so many wretched creatures have passed away from death in life to life -in death. As we landed, the low golden rays of the afternoon sun were -slanting through the pillared palm stems and quaintly beautiful pandanus -fronds, across the snowy beach, and its trailing gold-flowered vines. -The water of the lagoon, coloured like the gems in the gates of the -Heavenly City, lapped softly on the shore; the perpetual trade wind -poured through the swaying trees, shaking silvery gleams from the -lacquered crests of the palms. In the distance, shadowed by a heavy -pandanus grove, stood a few low brown huts. From the direction of these -there came, hurrying down to the beach as we landed, four figures--three -men and a woman. They had put on their best clothes when they saw the -sloop making for the island. The woman wore a gaudy scarlet cotton -frock; two of the men had white shirts and sailor’s trousers of blue -dungaree--relics of a happier day, these, telling their own melancholy -tale of bygone years of freedom on the wide Pacific. The third man wore -a shirt and scarlet “pareo,” or kilt. Every face was lit up with -delight at the sight of strangers from the schooner; above all, at the -marvellous view of the wonderful “wahiné papa.” Why, even the men who -lived free and happy on Penrhyn mainland did not get the chance of -seeing such a show once in a lifetime! There she was, with two arms, and -two legs, and a head, and a funny gown fastened in about the middle, and -the most remarkable yellow shoes, and a ring, and a watch, which showed -her to be extraordinarily wealthy, and a pale smooth face, not at -all like a man’s, and hair that was brown, not black--how odd! It was -evidently as good as a theatre, to the lonely prisoners! - -Bright as all the faces of the lepers were at that exciting moment, one -could not mistake the traces left by a more habitual expression of heavy -sadness. The terrible disease, too, had set its well-known marks upon -every countenance. None of those who came out to see us had lost any -feature; but all the faces had the gross, thickened, unhuman look that -leprosy stamps upon its victims. The woman kept her arm up over her -head, to hide some sad disfigurement about her neck. One of the men -walked slowly and painfully, through an affection of the hip and leg. -There were nine lepers in all upon the island; but the other five either -could not, or did not, wish to leave their huts, and the agent refused -to break the quarantine any further than he had already done. What care -the wretched creatures are able to give one another, therefore, what -their homes are like, and how their lives are passed, I cannot tell. -Three of the lepers were accompanied by their faithful dogs. They are -all fond of pets, and must have either a dog or a cat. Of course the -animals never leave the island. We exchanged a few remarks at the top of -our voices, left a case of oranges (brought up from the Cook Islands, a -thousand miles away), and returned to our boat. The case of oranges was -eagerly seized upon, and conveyed into the bush. - -“They will eat them up at once,” I said. - -“Not they,” said one of our white men. “They’ll make them into orange -beer to-night, and get jolly well drunk for once in their miserable -lives. Glad to see the poor devils get a chance, say I.” And so--most -immorally, no doubt--said the “wahiné papa” as well. - -The lepers are fed from stores furnished by a small Government fund; -and the trader who fulfils the very light duties of Resident Government -Agent generally sends them over a share of any little luxury, in the way -of oranges, limes, or yams, that may reach the island. None the less, -their condition is most miserable, and one cannot but regard it as a -crying scandal upon the great missionary organisations of the Pacific -that nothing whatever is done for the lepers of these northern groups. -The noble example of the late Father Damien, of Hawaii, and of the -Franciscan Sisters who still live upon the Hawaiian Molokai, courting a -martyr’s death to serve the victims of this terrible disease, seems to -find no imitators in the islands evangelised by British missionaries. -Godless, hopeless, and friendless, the lepers live and die alone. That -their lives are immoral in the last degree, their religion, in spite of -early teaching, almost a dead letter, is only to be expected. Penrhyn -is not alone in this terrible scourge. Rakahanga, Manahiki, and -Palmerston--all in the same part of the Pacific--are seriously affected -by the disease. Palmerston I did not see; but I heard that there is one -whole family of lepers there, and some stray cases as well. - -The island belongs to the half-caste descendants (about 150 in number) -of Masters, a “beachcomber” of the early days, who died a few years ago. -These people are much alarmed at the appearance of leprosy, and have -segregated the lepers on an island in the lagoon. They are anxious -to have them removed to the Molokai at Penrhyn, since the family came -originally from that island; but no schooner will undertake to carry -them. In Rakahanga, the lepers are not quarantined in any way, but -wander about among the people. There are only a few cases as yet; but -the number will certainly increase. This may also be said of Manahiki, -for although very serious cases are isolated there, the lepers are -allowed, in the earlier stages, to mix freely with every one else, and -even to prepare the food of a whole family. The New Zealand Government, -it is believed, will shortly pass a law compelling the removal of all -these cases to the Molokai at Penrhyn. No Government, however, can -alleviate the wretched condition of these unfortunate prisoners, once -sent to the island. That remains for private charity and devotion. - -A God-forsaken, God-forgotten-looking place is Penrhyn, all in all. When -sunset falls upon the great desolate lagoon, and the tall cocoanuts -of the island stand up jet black against the stormy yellow sky in one -unbroken rampart of tossing spears, and the endless sweep of shadowy -beach is empty of all human life, and clear of every sound save the -long, monotonous, never-ceasing cry of the trade wind in the trees, it -needs but little imagination to fancy strange creatures creeping through -the gloom of the forest--strange, ghastly stories of murder and despair -whispering in the gathering night. Death in every form is always near -to Penrhyn; death in the dark waters of the lagoon, death from the white -terror of leprosy, and death at the hands of men but quarter civilised, -whose fingers are always itching for the ready knife. And at the lonely -sunset hour, when old memories of the life and light of great cities, -of welcoming windows shining red and warm through grey, cold northern -gloamings come back to the wanderer’s mind in vivid contrast, the very -wings of the “Shadow cloaked from head to foot” seem to shake in full -sight above these desolate shores. Yet, perhaps, the intolerable blaze -of full noon upon the windward beaches strikes a note of even deeper -loneliness and distance. The windward side of Penrhyn is uninhabited; -the sea that breaks in blinding white foam upon the untrodden strand, -wreathed with trailing vines of vivid green, is never broken by a sail. -The sun beats down through the palm and pandanus leaves so fiercely that -the whole of the seaward bush is but a shadeless blaze of green fire. -Nothing stirs, nothing cries; the earth is silent, the sea empty; and a -barrier of thousands of long sea miles, steadily built up, day by day, -through many weeks, and only to be passed again by the slow demolishing, -brick by brick, of the same great wall, lies between us and the world -where people live. Here there is no life, only an endless dream; not as -in the happy southern islands, a gentle sunrise dream of such surpassing -sweetness that the sleeper asks nothing more than to dream on thus -forever; but a dark-hour dream of loneliness, desolation, and utter -remoteness, from which the dreamer cannot awaken, even if he would. Why -do men--white men, with some ability and some education--live in these -faraway infertile islands? There is no answer to the problem, even from -the men themselves. They came, they stayed, they do not go away--why? -they do not know. That is all. - -The land extent of Penrhyn is only three square miles, though the -enclosed lagoon is a hundred. The population is little over four hundred -souls; there are three or four white traders, as a rule. There is no -resident white missionary. The island is one of those that have been -annexed by New Zealand, and is therefore British property. It is -governed by the Resident Commissioner of the Cook group, who visits it -about once a year. - -Until two or three years ago, the Penrhyn Islanders used to keep their -dead in the houses, hanging up the corpse, wrapped in matting, until it -was completely decayed. This hideous practice was put an end to by the -Representatives of British Government, much to the grief of the natives, -who found it hard to part with the bodies of their friends, and leave -them away in the graveyard they were bidden to choose. As the best -substitute for the old practice, they now build little houses, some four -feet high, over the tombs of their friends, and live in these houses for -many months after a death, sitting and sleeping and even eating on the -tomb that is covered by the thatch or iron roof of the grave-house. The -graveyard is in consequence a strange and picturesque sight, almost like -a village of some pigmy folk. A few plain concrete graves stand above -the remains of white men who have died in the island, and one headstone -is carved with the initials--not the name--of a woman. There is a story -about that lonely grave; it was told to me as I lingered in the little -“God’s Acre” at sunset, with the light falling low between the palms and -the lonely evening wind beginning to wail from the sea. - -The woman was the wife of a schooner captain, a man of good family and -connections, who liked the wild roving life of the Pacific, yet managed -to retain a number of acquaintances of his own class in Auckland and -Tahiti. His wife was young and handsome, and had many friends of her -own. On one of the schooner’s visits to Penrhyn, the man was taken -suddenly ill, and died in a very short time, leaving his wife alone. It -seems that at first she was bewildered by her loss, and stayed on in the -island, not knowing what to do, but before many months she had solved -the problem after a fashion that horrified all the whites--she married a -Penrhyn native! good-looking and attractive, but three-quarters savage, -and left the island with him. - -Several children were born to the pair, but they were given to the -husband’s people. At last he took a native partner, and deserted his -English wife. She left the islands, and went down to Auckland; but her -story had travelled before her, and Auckland society closed its doors. -To Tahiti, where morals are easy, and no one frowns upon the union, -temporary or permanent, of the white man and the brown woman, she went, -hoping to be received as in former days. But even Papeete, “the sink of -the Pacific,” would have none of the white woman who had married a brown -man. Northwards once more, to lonely Penrhyn, the broken-hearted woman -went, wishing only to die, far from the eyes of her own world that had -driven her out. A schooner captain, who called there now and then, -cast eyes upon her--for she was still young and retained much of her -beauty--and asked her, at last, if she would become his wife, and so -redeem in some degree her position; but she had neither heart nor wish -to live longer, so she sent the kindly sailor away, and soon afterwards -closed her eyes for ever on the blue Pacific and the burning sands, the -brown lover who had betrayed her, and the white lover who came too late. -The traders buried her, and kindly left her grave without a name; only -the initials of that which she had borne in her first marriage, and -the date of her death. So, quiet and forgotten at last, lies in lonely -Penrhyn the woman who sinned against her race and found no forgiveness. - -It was a relief to leave Penrhyn, with all its gloomy associations, and -see the schooner’s head set for the open sea and merry Manahiki. But -we seemed to have brought ill-luck away with us, for there was what the -captain called “mean weather” before we came within hail of land again, -and the _Duchess_ got some more knocking about. - -It was on account of this that Neo, our native bo’sun, hit an innocent -A.B. over the head with a belaying-pin one afternoon, and offered to -perform the same service for any of the rest of the crew who might -require it. The men had been singing mission hymns as they ran about the -deck pulling and hauling--not exactly out of sheer piety, but because -some of the hymns, with good rousing choruses, made excellent chanties. -They were hauling to the tune of “Pull for the shore, brothers!” when -a squall hit the ship, and out of the fifteen agitated minutes that -followed, the _Duchess emerged minus her jib-boom_. When things had -quieted down, Neo started to work with the belaying-, pin, until he was -stopped, when he offered, as a sufficient explanation, the following: - -“Those men, they sing something made bad luck, I think, jib-boom he -break. Suppose they sing, ‘Pull for ‘em shore’ some other time, I break -their head, that I telling them!” - -The next time a chanty was wanted, “Hold the Fort!” took the place of -the obnoxious tune, and Neo’s lessons were not called for. - -And so, in a day or two we came to Rakahanga and Manahiki (Reirson and -Humphrey Islands), and stopped there for another day or two, before we -spread our wings like the swallows, to fleet southward again. - -[Illustration: 0351] - -It was certainly globe-trotting, not proper travelling. To flit from -group to group, taking in cargo, and then hurrying off again, is the way -not to understand the places one sees, and I was more than half inclined -to leave the _Duchess_ here, and stop over for a month or two on the -chance of another schooner turning up. But the dinner that the solitary -trader ate when he came on board made me change my mind. He looked like -a man half-famished, and he certainly acted like one. There was hardly -a thing on the island to eat at present, he said; the natives had only -enough fish for themselves, and the turtle weren’t coming and his stores -were almost out, and he had been living on biscuit and cocoanuts for -weeks. There was leprosy in both islands, and one did not dare to touch -native pork or fowl. On the whole, I thought I would be contented to -“globe-trot,” on this occasion, and see what I could in a day or two. - -The islands are about twenty-five miles apart, and very much like -one another. They each own an area of about two square miles, and a -population of some four hundred natives. And there is nothing in the -whole Pacific prettier. - -Coming up to Manahiki, one sees first of all a snowy shore and a belt -of green tossing palms, just like any other island. As the ship coasts -along, however, making for the village, the palm-trees break and open -out here and there, and through the break one sees--paradise! There is -a great sheet of turquoise-green water inside, and on the water an -archipelago of the most exquisite little plumy, palmy islets, each -ringed round with its own pearly girdle of coral sand. Every gap in the -trees frames in a picture more lovely than the last--and, as we approach -the village, the dainty little brown island canoes that all the Pacific -wanderers know so well, begin to dot the jewel-bright surface of the -inner lake, and gleams of white and rose and scarlet dresses, worn by -the rowers of the tiny craft, sparkle on the water like gems. At last -the vessel comes to anchor before a wide white, sloping beach, with -brown-roofed huts clustering behind, and we reached merry Manahiki. - -The island has long enjoyed a reputation for peculiar innocence and -simplicity, coupled with piety of a marked description. Well, one -does not care to destroy any one’s illusions, so the less said about -Manahiki’s innocence and simplicity the better. The islanders are, -at all events, a kindly and a cheerful people, and their home is the -neatest and best kept island in the Pacific. A palm-bordered road of -finest white sand, beautifully kept, and four miles long, runs without -a bend or break from one end of the island to the other--this portion of -the atoll forming a separate island, and containing most of the scanty -population. The village stands about midway--a collection of quaint -little houses deeply thatched with plaited pan-danus leaf, and walled -with small, straight saplings set side by side and admitting a good deal -of light and air. The houses are unwindowed as a rule. Rakahanga, the -sister island, is extremely like Manahiki in formation and architecture. -It, however, enjoys the additional advantage of a jail, which is built -of crossed saplings, looks much like a huge bird-cage, and certainly -could not confine any one who made the smallest attempt to get out. -But, as criminals are unknown in these islands, and petty offences are -visited by fine instead of imprisonment, the jail is not expected to -do real service, being merely a bit of “swagger,” like the white-washed -stone houses possessed by one or two wealthy natives, who, Pacific -fashion, never think of living in them. - -Within, the ordinary houses are extremely simple. The floor of white -coral gravel reflects and intensifies the soft diffused light that -enters through the walls. There may be a native bedstead, laced across -with, “sinnet”--plaited cocoanut fibre--and provided with a gay -patchwork quilt, and a few large soft mats of pandanus leaf, -ingeniously split, dried, and plaited. There will certainly be a pile of -camphor-wood trunks, containing the clothes of the household; a dozen -or so cocoanut shells, for drinking and eating purposes; a few -sheath-knives, and a small quantity of much-cherished crockery. In a -corner, you may find a heap of flying-fish ready cleaned for baking in -the oven-pit outside, and a number of green, unhusked cocoanuts, for -drinking. You may possibly see some ship’s biscuits, too, bought from -the one white resident of the island, a trader and there will also be -some lumps of white, soft pith, shaped like large buns--the “sponge” or -kernel of the old cocoanut, which grows and fills up the shell after the -water has dried away, and the nut commenced to sprout. But there will be -no bananas, no oranges, no mangoes, granadillas, pineapples, yam, taro -or ti root, bread-fruit or maupei chestnuts, as in the fertile volcanic -islands. Manahiki is a coral island, pure and simple, and has no soil at -all, nothing but sand and white gravel, out of which the cocoa-palm -and a few small timber trees spring, in a manner that seems almost -miraculous to those accustomed to the rich, fertile soil of Raratonga or -Tahiti. Cocoanut and fish are the food of the Manahikian, varied by an -occasional gorge of turtle-meat, and a feast of pig and fowl on very -great occasions. There is, therefore, not much work to do in the island, -and there are few distractions from the outside world, since trading -schooners only call two or three times a year at best. Some copra-drying -is done and a few toy canoes, baskets, and other curiosities are made, -to find a precarious sale when a schooner comes in and the captain is -inclined to speculate. - -But time never hangs heavy on the Manahikian’s hands. He is the most -accomplished dancer and singer in the whole South Pacific, and the -island is inordinately vain of this distinction. All South Sea islanders -sing constantly, but in Manahiki, the tunes are much sweeter and more -definite than in most other islands; and the impromptu variations of the -“seconds” are really wonderful. The voices, too, are exceptionally good. -The women’s are rather hard and piercing, but those of the men are often -magnificent. The time is as perfect as if beaten out by a metronome, and -false notes are almost unknown. - -[Illustration: 0359] - -Men and women alike seem incapable of fatigue when singing. The mere -white man will feel tired and husky after going through the choruses -of _The Messiah_ or _The Creation_. A Manahikian, if he were acquainted -with oratorio music, would run through both, and then “take on” - _Tannhauser_, following up with another Wagnerian opera, and perhaps a -cantata thrown in. By this time, it would be dusk, and the chorus would -probably stop to eat a cartload of cocoanuts before beginning on the -whole _Nibelungen Ring_ cycle for the night. About midnight the Resident -Agent, a clever half-caste, who has European ideas about the value of -sleep, would probably send out the village policeman with a stick to -induce the singers to go to bed; and, quite unfatigued, they would rise -up from their cross-legged squatting posture on the ground, and go, -remonstrant, but compelled. - -[Illustration: 0360] - -Happily for the Resident Agent and the trader, however, European music -is not known in Manahiki, and when a singing fit seizes the people, they -can generally be stopped after about a day, unless somebody has composed -something very new and very screaming. If the two ends of the village -have begun one of their musical competitions, there may also be -difficulty in bringing it to a period; for the rival choruses will sing -against each other with cracking throats and swelling veins, hour after -hour, till both sides are completely exhausted. - -Dancing, however, is the Manahikian’s chief reason for existing. -The Manahikian dances are infinitely superior to those of most other -islands, which consist almost altogether of a wriggle belonging to the -_danse du ventre_ family, and a little waving of the arms. The Manahiki -dance has the wriggle for its groundwork, but there are many steps -and variations. Some of the steps are so rapid that the eye can hardly -follow them, and a camera shutter which works up to 1/100 of a second -does not give a sharp result. The men are ranged in a long row, with the -women opposite; there is a good deal of wheeling and turning about in -brisk military style, advancing, retreating, and spinning round. The men -dance very much on the extreme tips of their toes (they are, of course, -barefooted) and keep up this painful posture for an extraordinary -length of time. Every muscle in the whole body seems to be worked in the -“fancy” steps; and there is a remarkable effect of general dislocation, -due to turning the knees and elbows violently out and in. - -The women, like Miss Mercy Pecksniff, seem chiefly to favour the “shape -and skip” style of locomotion. There is a good deal of both these, a -great deal of wriggle, and plenty of arm action, about their dancing. -They manoeuvre their long, loose robes about, not at all ungracefully, -and do some neat step-dancing, rather inferior, however, to that of the -men. - -Both men and women dress specially for the dance, so the festival that -was organised to greet our arrivals took some time to get up, as all the -beaux and belles of the village had to hurry home and dress. The women -put on fresh cotton loose gowns, of brilliant pink, purple, yellow, -white and green, oiled their hair with cocoanut oil scented with the -fragrant white tieré flower, and hung long chains of red and yellow -berries about their necks. About their waists they tied the dancing -girdle, never worn except on these occasions, and made of twisted green -ferns. The men took off their cool, easy everyday costume, of a short -cotton kilt and gay coloured singlet, and attired themselves in shirts -and heavy stuff trousers (bought from the trader at enormous expense, -and considered the acme of smartness). Both sexes crowned themselves -with the curious dancing headdress, which looks exactly like the -long-rayed halo of a saint, and is made by splitting a palm frond down -the middle, and fastening it in a half-circle about the back of the -head. - -The music then struck up and the dancers began to assemble. The -band consisted of two youths, one of whom clicked a couple of sticks -together, while the other beat a drum. This does not sound attractive; -but as a matter of fact, the Manahiki castanet and drum music is -curiously weird and thrilling, and arouses a desire for dancing even -in the prosaic European. On board our schooner, lying half a mile from -shore, the sound of the measured click and throb used to set every foot -beating time on deck, while the native crew frankly dropped whatever -they were at, and began to caper wildly. Close at hand, the music -is even more impressive; no swinging waltz thundered out by a whole -Hungarian band gets “into the feet” more effectively than the Manahiki -drum. - -A much-cherished possession is this drum. It is carved and ornamented -with sinnet, and topped with a piece of bladder; it seems to have been -hollowed out of a big log, with considerable labour. The skill of the -drummers is really remarkable. No drumsticks are used, only fingers, yet -the sound carries for miles. While drumming, the hands rise and fall so -fast as to lose all outline to the eye; the drummer nods and beats with -his foot in an ecstasy of delight at his own performance; the air is -full of the throbbing, rhythmical, intensely savage notes. The dancers -at first hesitate, begin and stop, and begin again, laugh and retreat -and come forward undecidedly. By-and-by the dancing fervour seizes one -or two; they commence to twirl and to stamp wildly, winnowing the -air with their arms. Others join in, the two rows are completed, and -Manahiki is fairly started for the day. Hour after hour they dance, -streaming with perspiration in the burning sun, laughing and singing and -skipping. The green fern girdles wither into shreds of crackling brown, -the palm haloes droop, the berry necklaces break and scatter, but on -they go. The children join in the dance now and then, but their small -frames weary soon; the parents are indefatigable. - -Perhaps both ends of the settlement are dancing; if that is so, the -competitive element is sure to come in sooner or later, for the feeling -between the two is very like that between the collegers and oppidans at -Eton, each despising the other heartily, and ready on all occasions -to find a cause for a fight. They will dance against each other now, -striving with every muscle to twinkle the feet quicker, stand higher on -the tips of the toes, wriggle more snakily, than their rivals. Evening -comes, and they are still dancing. With the night, the dance degenerates -into something very like an orgy, and before dawn, to avoid scandal, a -powerful hint from the native pastor and the agent causes the ball to -break up. - -Do the dancers go to bed now, lie down on their piled up sleeping -mats, and compose themselves to slumber? By no means. Most of them get -torches, and go out on the reef in the dark to spear fish. Cooking fires -are lighted, and there is a hurried gorge in the houses; everywhere, -in the breaking dawn, one hears the chuck-chuck of the husking-stick -preparing cocoanuts, and smells the savoury odour of cooking fish. The -dancers have not eaten for at least twenty-four hours, perhaps more. But -this feast does not last long, for just as the sun begins to shoot long -scarlet rays up through the palm trees, some one begins to beat the drum -again. Immediately the whole village pours out into the open, and the -dance is all on again, as energetic as ever. The trading schooner is -three weeks over-due, and the copra on which the island income depends -is not half dried; there is not a fancy basket or a pandanus hat ready -for the trader; the washing of every house is hopelessly behind, and -nobody has had a decent meal since the day before yesterday. No matter: -the Manahikians are dancing, and it would take an earthquake to stop -them. - -Late in the second day, they will probably give out and take a night’s -rest. But it is about even chances that they begin again the next -morning. In any case, no day passes in Manahiki or Rakahanga without a -dance in the evening. Regularly at sunset the drum begins to beat, the -fern girdles are tied on (relics, these, of heathen days when girdles -of grass or fern were all that the dancers wore), and palm haloes are -twisted about the glossy black hair, and the island gives itself up to -enjoyment for the evening. - -There is a dancing-master in Manahiki, a most important potentate, who -does nothing whatever but invent new dances, and teach the youth of the -village both the old dances and the new. - -We stopped overnight at the island, so I had time for a good walk along -the beautiful coral avenue, which is indeed one of the loveliest things -in the island world. It was Sunday, and all the natives were worshipping -in the exceedingly ugly and stuffy concrete church, under the guidance -of the native pastor, so I had the place almost to myself. Far away from -everywhere, sitting in a ruinous little hut under the trees by the inner -lagoon, I found a lonely old man, crippled and unable to walk. He was -waiting until the others came back from church, staring solemnly into -the lagoon the while, and playing with a heap of cocoanut shells. -By-and-by he would probably rouse up, drag himself into the hut, and -busy himself getting ready the dinner for the family against their -return home, for he was an industrious old man, and liked to make -himself useful so far as he could, and his relatives were very glad of -what small services he could render in washing and cooking. - -What was the matter with the poor old man? He was a leper! - -That is the way of the islands, and no white rule can altogether put a -stop to it. The half-caste who acts as agent for the Government of New -Zealand had hunted out a very bad case of leprosy a year or two before, -and insisted on quarantining it in a lonely part of the bush. This was -all very well, but the leper had a pet cock, which he wanted to take -with him, and the agent’s heart was not hard enough to refuse. Now the -leper, being fed without working, and having nothing to do, found the -time hanging heavy on his hands, so he taught the cock to dance--report -says, to dance the real Manahiki dances--and the fame of the wondrous -bird spread all over the island, and as far as Rakahanga, so that -the natives made continual parties to see the creature perform, and -quarantine became a dead letter. Still the agent had not the heart -to take the cock away, but when he saw the leper’s end was near, he -watched, and as soon as he heard the man was dead, he hurried to the -quarantined hut, set it on fire, and immediately slaughtered the cock. -An hour later, half the island was out at the hut, looking for the -bird--but they came too late. - -***** - -We have been two days at merry Manahiki, and the cargo is in, and the -Captain has ordered the _Duchess_--looking shockingly cock-nosed without -her great jib-boom--to be put under sail again. As the booms begin to -rattle, and the sails to rise against the splendid rose and daffodil of -the Pacific sunset, Shalli, our Cingalese steward, leans sadly over the -rail, listening to the thrilling beat of the drum that is just beginning -to throb across the still waters of the lagoon, now that evening and its -merrymaking are coming on once more. - -“He plenty good place, that,” says Shalli mournfully. “All the time -dancing, singing, eating, no working--he all same place as heaven. O my -God, I plenty wish I stopping there, I no wanting any heaven then!” - -With this pious aspiration in our ears, we spread our white wings -once more--for the last time. Raratonga lies before us now, and from -Raratonga the steamers go, and the mails and tourists come, and the -doors of the great world open for us again. So, good-bye to the life of -the schooner. - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -_The Last of the Island Kingdoms--Fashions in Nukualofa--The King -who was shy--His Majesty’s Love Story--Who got the Wedding-Cake?--The -Chancellor goes to Jail--Bungalow Housekeeping--The Wood of the -Sacred Bats--By the Tombs of the Tui-Tongas--A “Chief” Kava-party--The -Waits!--Mariner’s Cave--The Cave of the Swallows--To Samoa._ - -SOME weeks afterwards, after a round of three thousand miles, I found -myself in Tonga, better known as the Friendly Islands. The distance from -the Cook Group was only one thousand or less, as the crow flies, but -the steamers flew down to Auckland, and then back again, which naturally -added to the journey. Pacific travel is a series of compromises. The -British Resident of Niué, which is only three hundred miles from Tonga, -wanted to get to the latter place about that time, and when I met him -at Nukualofa, the Tongan capital, he had had to travel two thousand -four hundred miles to reach it! But no one is ever in a hurry, under the -shade of the cocoanut tree. - -Who has heard of Tongatabu? who knows where the “Friendly Islands” are? -You will not find them very readily in the map, but they are to be -found nevertheless, about one thousand miles to the north-east of New -Zealand. And if you take the steamer that runs every month from Auckland -to Sydney, touching at the “Friendly” or Tongan Group, on the way, you -will find yourself, in four days, set down on the wharf of Nukualofa, -the capital of the island of Tongatabu, and the seat of the oddest, most -comic-opera-like monarchy that the world ever knew. - -Thirty years ago--even twenty--the Great South Seas were scattered over -with independent island states, ruled by monarchs who displayed every -degree of civilisation, from the bloodthirsty monster, Thakomban of Fiji -and Jibberik, the half-crazy tyrant of Majuro, up to such Elizabeths of -the Pacific as Liluokalani of Hawaii, and Queen Pomaré of Tahiti. Now -there is but one island kingdom left; but one native sovereign, who -still sits on his throne unembarrassed by the presence of a British -Resident, who is ruler in all but name. Hawaii has fallen to America; -France has taken the Marquesas and Tahiti; England has annexed the Cook -Islands and dethroned the famous Queen Makea; Germany and America have -partitioned Samoa between them; the rich archipelago of Fiji has been -added to the British Colonies. This accounts for almost all of the -larger and richer island groups, distinguished by a certain amount -of original civilisation, and leaves only one unseized--Tonga, or the -Friendly Islands, over which England has maintained a protectorate since -1900. - -The Tongan Archipelago was discovered by Captain Cook in 1777, and by -him named the “Friendly Islands,” on account of the apparently friendly -disposition of the natives. He sailed away from the group unaware that -beneath their seemingly genial reception, the Tongans had been maturing -a plot to murder him and seize his ship. Treachery, it is true, has -never been an essential part of the Tongan character; but they are, -and always have been, the most warlike of all Pacific races, and it -is probable that they thought the character of the deed excused by the -necessities of a military race who feared injury from a superior power. - -After Cook’s visit the world heard very little of Tonga until 1816, when -Mariner’s “Tonga Islands,” the history of a young sailor’s captivity -among the natives of the group, fairly took the reading world by storm. -It is still a classic among works of travel and adventure. Since -the islands were converted to Christianity their history has been -uneventful. One king--George Tubou I.--reigned for seventy years, and -only died at last, aged ninety-seven, of a chill contracted from his -invariable custom of bathing in the sea at dawn! His great-grandson, -George Tubou II. succeeded, inheriting through his mother’s side, as the -Tongan succession follows the matriarchal plan. It is this king--aged -thirty-four, six feet four in height, and about twenty-seven stone -weight--who now sits upon the last throne of the Island Kings, and rules -over the only independent state left in the Pacific. - -When Britain, assumed a Protectorate over Tonga in 1900, it was done -simply to prevent any other nation annexing the rich and fertile group, -with its splendid harbour of Vavau which lay so dangerously near Fiji. -The Germans, who had maintained a kind of half-and-half Protectorate for -some time, ceded their rights in exchange for those possessed by England -in Samoa, and Tonga then became safe from the incursions of any foreign -nation whose interests, trading and territorial, might be hostile to -those of Britain. - -Perhaps as a consequence of all those negotiations, the Tongans have -a high opinion of their own importance. When the war between China and -Japan broke out, Tonga politely sent word to Great Britain that she -intended to remain neutral, and not take any part in the affair. Great -Britain’s reply, I regret to say, is not recorded. - -The Tongans are a Christianised and partially civilised, if a coloured, -race, numbering about 20,000. They are of a warm brown in hue, with -dense black, wiry hair (usually dyed golden red with lime juice), tall, -well-made frames, and immense muscular development. As a nation, they -are handsome, with intelligent faces, and a dignity of pose and movement -that is sometimes unkindly called the “Tongan swagger.” In education, -many of them would compare favourably with the average white man, so far -as mere attainments go; although a course of instruction at the local -schools and colleges, amounting to very nearly the standard of an -English “matriculations,” does not prevent its recipient from believing -firmly in the holiness of the sacred Tongan bats, feeding himself with -his fingers, and walking about his native village naked as Adam, save -for a cotton kilt. There is not only a King in Tonga, but a real palace, -guards of honour, a Parliament, a Prime Minister, a Chancellor of the -Exchequer, and a large number of public officials. All these are -Tongan natives. The king’s guards are apt to make an especially vivid -impression upon the newcomer, as he walks up the wharf, and sees the -scarlet-coated sentry pacing up and down opposite the guard-room, with -his fellows, also smartly uniformed, lounging inside. If the stranger, -however, could have witnessed the scene on the wharf as soon as the -steamer was signalled---the sudden running up of a dozen or two of -guards who had been amusing themselves about the town in undress uniform -(navy-blue kilt, red sash, buff singlet), the scrambling and dressing -_coram publico_ on the grass, getting into trousers, boots, shirt, -tunic, forage cap, and the hurried scuffle to get ready in time, and -make a fine appearance to the steamer folk--he might think rather -less of Tonga’s military discipline. Beyond the wharf lies the town, -straggling over a good mile of space, and consisting of a few main -streets and one or two side alleys, bordered by pretty verandahed, -flowery houses. The pavement is the same throughout--green grass, -kept short by the constant passing of bare feet. There are a good many -trading stores, filled with wares suited to native tastes--gaudy prints, -strong perfumes, cutlery, crockery, Brummagem jewellery. The streets are -busy to-day--busy for Nukualofa, that is. Every now and then a native -passes, flying by on a galloping, barebacked horse, or striding along -the grass with the inimitable Tongan strut; for it is steamer day, -and the monthly Union steamer boat is the theatre, the newspaper, the -society entertainment; the luxury-provider of all the archipelago. On -the other twenty-nine or thirty days of the month, you may stand in the -middle of a main street for half an hour at a time, and not see a single -passer-by, but steamer day galvanises the whole island into life. - -[Illustration: 0376] - -The sand of the beach beside the wharf is as white as snow; it is -pulverised coral from the reef, nothing else. Great fluted clam-shells, -a foot long and more, lie about the strand, among the trailing -pink-flowered convolvulus vines that wreathe the shore of every South -Sea island. Unkempt pandanus trees, mounted on quaint high wooden -stilts, overhang the green water; among the taller and more graceful -cocoa-palms, Norfolk Island pines, odd, formal, and suggestive of -hairbrushes, stand among feathery ironwoods and spreading-avavas -about the palace of the king. Quite close to the wharf this latter is -placed--a handsome two-storeyed building, with wide verandahs and a -tower. Scarlet-coated sentries march up and down all day at its gates; -it is surrounded by a wall, and carefully guarded from intruders. George -Tubou II. is among the shyest of monarchs and hates nothing so much as -being stared at; so on steamer days there is little sign of life to be -seen about the palace. - -I happened to arrive in Tonga at an interesting historical crisis, and -was promised an audience with the retiring monarch. - -After a week or two, however, the promise was suddenly recalled, and the -visitor informed that the king declined to see her, then or at any other -time. A little investigation revealed the cause. The High Commissioner -of the Western Pacific had recently come over from Fiji; to remonstrate -with the Tongan monarchy concerning certain unconstitutional behaviour, -and a British man-of-war had accompanied him. I, being the only other -person on the island from “Home,” had naturally been seeing a good deal -of the formidable stranger. This was enough for the king. There was a -plot to deprive him of his throne, he was certain; and it was obvious -that I was in it, whatever I might choose to say to the contrary. There -was no knowing what crime I might not be capable of, once admitted to -the Royal Palace. George Tubou II. is six feet four, and twenty-seven -stone weight, but he is distinctly of a nervous temperament; and his -fears of Guy Fawkesism kept possession of his mind during the whole of -my stay; so that the carefully averted face of a fat, copper-coloured -sort of Joe Sedley, driving very fast in a buggy, was all I saw of -Tonga’s king. - -There is no one, surely, in the world who quite comes up to George of -Tonga for a “guid conceit o’ himsel’.” When he wished to provide himself -with a queen, some six or seven years ago, he first applied to -the Emperor of Germany, to know if there was a German Princess of -marriageable age whom he could have! The Kaiser politely replied in the -negative. King George then sent proposals to a princess of Hawaii who -was as well educated as any white lady, and used to diplomatic society -in Washington. This also failing, he turned his attentions to his own -country; and then began the most extraordinary love-story ever told -under the Southern Cross--a story that could have happened nowhere on -the globe, except in the comic-opera country of Tonga. - -There were two eligible princesses of the royal line of Tonga--Princess -Ofa and Princess Lavinia. The king appears to have proposed to them -both, and then found himself unable to decide between the two. They were -both of high rank, both good-looking after the portly Tongan fashion, -and both very willing to be queen, reign over the fine palace, order -lots of silk dresses from Auckland, wear the queen’s crown of Tonga -(supposed to be gold, but rather inclined to suspicious outbreaks of -verdigris), and see the natives get off their horses and kneel on the -ground, when the royal state carriage drove by. - -But the king kept both princesses in the agonies of suspense ever -present, and hope constantly deferred for months--until the wedding-day -was fixed, the wedding-cake (ordered three years before from a New -Zealand confectioner, for the German Princess who was not to be had) -patched up and fresh coloured, the wedding-dress provided, at the -expense of the Government of Tonga (according to custom) and actually -made! Not till the very night before the wedding did his dilatory -Majesty at last declare his intentions, and fix upon the princess he -had last proposed to, whom nobody expected him to take--Lavinia. It is -a sober fact that the wedding invitation cards, sent out at the last -minute, were printed with a blank for the bride’s name, which was -added with a pen! Lavinia, overjoyed at her good luck, got into the -Governmentally provided wedding dress next day, and (as the fairy tales -say) “the wedding was celebrated with great pomp!” There is no sense of -humour in Tonga. If there had been, the king could hardly have selected -the means of consolation for Ofa’s disappointment that he actually did -choose, in sending her the bottom half of his wedding cake, as soon as -the ceremony was over. Princess Ofa was not proud; she had been beating -her head on the floor-mats all morning and pulling out handfuls of her -long black hair, but when the consolatory cake arrived, she accepted it -promptly and ate it. - -There are generally illuminations on the night of a royal wedding. Tonga -was not behind-hand in this matter, but the illuminations were of rather -an unusual kind, being nothing less than numbers of burning native -houses, set on fire by the indignant friends of the jilted Princess Ofa. -The friends of the new queen retaliated in kind; and for nearly a week, -arson became the recognised sport of the island. This excess of party -feeling soon died down, however, and the newly married couple were left -to honeymoon in peace. - -An infant princess was born in due time, and not very long after, Queen -Lavinia died. Here was Princess Ofa’s chance, if Fate had permitted; -but Ofa herself was dead, leaving no eligible princess to console the -widowed king. - -For more than five years the monarch (who is still only thirty-four) has -lived alone, a mark for every husband-hunting princess in the Pacific. A -princess related to an ancient island monarchy, invited herself to stay -in the palace one recent Christmas. King George received her pleasantly, -entertained her for some weeks, and then sent her home with a big -packet of fine tobacco and a barrel of spirits, to console her for the -non-success of her visit--which may be accounted for by the fact that -she is rather older than the king himself, and by no means so lovely as -she was. A favoured candidate is a certain princess of the royal family -of Tahiti. She has been described to the king as handsome, and at least -sixteen stone weight, both of which claims are quite correct. King -George really wants a European princess, but as soon as he has been -convinced for the second time that this is impossible, it is hoped that -he will decide on the Tahitian princess, and elevate her to the Tongan -throne, since he admires fat women exceedingly. - -One of the most remarkable things in this remarkable country is the -Parliament. It would take too long to record the history of this -assembly’s birth and development; but the chapter has been a notable one -in Tongan history. The Parliament usually consists of the King and Prime -Minister, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the Chief Justice, and a -score or two of important chiefs, some of whom inherit by birth, while -others are returned by their native villages. At the time of my visit, -there were a couple of vacancies in this remarkable assembly, since the -High Commissioner of the Western Pacific (Governor of Fiji) had just -deported the Prime Minister and the Chancellor of the Exchequer to Fiji, -on account of certain proceedings which resulted in emptying Tonga’s -public treasury and leaving nothing to show for it. - -Their absence did not greatly matter, however, as it is a rule of the -Tongan Constitution, that Parliament shall not meet oftener than once in -three years. An excellent and practical reason lies at the root of this -seemingly peculiar law. Tongatabu is a small island, only twenty miles -long; and when the Members of Parliament,--dressed in new cotton -kilts, with smart large floor-mats tied round their waists with sinnet -(cocoanut fibre plait), and violet, sea-green, or lemon silk shirts -on their brown backs--arrive from the outer villages and islands in -Nukualofa with all their relatives, for the beginning of the session, -something very like a famine sets in. The whole Parliament, also its -sisters, aunts, and grandpapas, has to be fed at public expense, while -it stays in the capital arranging the affairs of the nation; and as the -length of its sitting is always regulated by the amount of provisions -available, and never ends until the last yam, the last skinny chicken, -the last sack of pineapples, is eaten up, it is easy to understand why -the capital does not care to undergo such a strain any oftener than it -can help. - -A new Prime Minister and Chancellor of the Exchequer were appointed -before long, and it was made a condition of the latter office, that the -Chancellor should understand a reasonable amount of arithmetic. -There was also a rigid rule made about the keeping of the key of the -Government safe in some suitable place. A good deal of trouble was -caused by the last Chancellor’s losing it, one day when he was out -fishing on the coral reef! There was a duplicate, but the Chancellor had -carefully locked it up in the safe, to make sure it should not be lost! -The poor old gentleman nearly get sunstroke hunting about the coral -reef for the key until he found it. If it had been carried, away by the -tides, the safe must have remained closed until an expert from Auckland -could be brought up to open it. As the Chancellor of the Exchequer did -not know how much he had in it, or how much he had spent in the last -quarter, it can readily be understood that the public accounts acquired -an entirely superfluous extra tangle or two during the absence of the -lost key. - -Tonga enjoys one of the finest climates in the Pacific. The heat is -never excessive, and the air is generally bright and invigorating. -Fevers are unheard of, and the few white residents of the islands enjoy -splendid health. As for the Tongans themselves, they dispute with the -Fijians the palm of being physically the finest and strongest people -in the whole Pacific; and no one has ever thought of challenging their -claim to be the most intellectual of all the brown island races. Their -carriage is superb, though only its extreme _aplomb_ and ease save it -from degenerating into an actual swagger. Their dress displays the most -perfect taste in the South Seas. It consists, among the men, of a short -tunic (“vala”) of fine cashmere or silk, occasionally of cotton, on -working days--draped with all the grace of an antique statue, and worn -with a wide sash, and a thin, close-fitting singlet or shirt. The -Tongan woman generally wears a garment that is suggestive of the Greek -_chiton_--a loose sleeveless dress reaching to a point midway between -waist and knee. Underneath is seen a tunic similar to that of the men, -but a little longer. The colours chosen by both sexes are exquisite. No -artist could design more beautiful combinations than those I have often -seen flitting about the grassy streets of Nukualofa, Tonga’s capital. A -finely made giant strides by, in a navy-blue vala, cream-coloured silk -shirt, and vivid sea-green sash. Another wears a pale blue vala and -shirt, and a sash of royal blue. A third is in white and lemon colour -girdled with orange; another wears a white vala, a pale green shirt, and -a sash of violet silk. A tall, self-possessed young woman, her hair dyed -golden red with lime, and worn coiffed high above the forehead, with a -fall of natural curls down her back, has a scarlet and yellow vala under -her short brown silk gown, while her companion--smaller and merrier -faced, with the melting black eyes of “The Islands”--wears and looks -charming in, a pale-blue gown over a vala of daffodil yellow. These are -the fashions of Tonga; and they offer a feast for artistic souls and -pencils, that cannot be matched under the Southern Cross. - -Tonga is very seldom visited by travellers, except for an hour or two -during the steamer’s stay in port, and it is hardly ever seen by British -tourists. I could not discover that any English lady had ever made a -stay there, except myself, and the wife of a local Church dignitary. -There are, of course, a few Colonial residents. But the English -traveller leaves Tonga out altogether, which is really a pity--for his -sake. As for the islands, they can do very well without tourists, and -would not be the better for them. - -There was no hotel save a plain and simple public-house, at the time -of my stay, though I understand this defect has been remedied. I had -therefore to set up housekeeping on my own account. The tiny bungalow I -took for my stay of four weeks in the island, was a real South Sea home. -It stood almost on the white coral sand of the beach, and close to -the cool green waters of the lagoon; it was shaded by palms and -scarlet-blossomed “flamboyant” trees, and it was nearly all door and -window and verandah. Its carpets were plaited pandanus-leaf mats; the -ornaments in the sitting-room were foot-long fluted clam-shells off -the beach, filled with wild red and yellow hibiscus flowers, poignantly -perfumed frangipani stars, and the sweet pink blossoms of the South Sea -oleander. The back kitchen had generally a bunch of bananas hanging from -the roof, a pile of green cocoanuts for drinking, under the window, a -mound of yellow papaws, or tree-melons, in a corner, some custard-apples -and mangoes, and a big basket of pineapples, bought at the door for -fourteen a shilling, or picked by myself during a drive through the -bush. - -There was not much else, besides bread and tea. I almost lived on -fruit, and could not help wondering what the inhabitants of temperate -latitudes, who fear ill consequences from a dozen plums or a double -handful of strawberries, would have thought of my uncounted mangoes, -and bananas, and five or six pineapples a day. Only children, at home -in England, really know how much fruit can safely be undertaken by the -human digestive organs. Wise children! and foolish elders, who have -forgotten so soon. - -The transparent waters of the lagoon outside, lapping idly under the -leaves of overhanging palm and pandanus, were not so cool as they -looked, under the hot midday sun; and if one did not want a tepid -sea-bath, it was best to wait till night. Then, what a luxury it was, -after the heat of the day (for Tonga, though cool for the tropics, is -nevertheless tropical), to float about in the dim lagoon, under a glow -of stars that fit up the sky almost as brightly as an English moon, the -dark shining water bearing one to and fro with the swell from the reef, -the land growing farther and farther away, the palms on the thin pale -shoreline standing out small and black, like Indian ink sketches, -against the lurid purple of the midnight sky! Willingly indeed one would -have passed the whole night out there, swimming, and floating in a warm -dark sea of stars--stars above and stars below--if nature had not given -out after an hour or two, and demanded a return to the solid earth. -Sharks? Well, they had “hardly ever” been seen inside the reef. -Stingarees, with their immense ugly bodies buried in the sand at the -bottom, and their cruel barbed tails ready to strike? Yes, they had been -seen, but not often; and in tropic waters you learn to take the -chances like every one else, and enjoy yourself without thinking of the -“might-be’s.” - -[Illustration: 0382] - -It was the hot season, but not too hot for riding or driving, and I -spent many mornings exploring about the island. To the Wood of the -Bats, about eleven miles from Nukualofa, one drives in a springy little -colonial buggy, driving over mile after mile of rather uneven grass -road, along avenues of blossoming orange trees, through groves of -bananas and breadfruit and tall mango trees, past straggling native -villages with neat little fancy-work houses made of woven reeds and -thatch, until, in the distance, one begins to hear a loud screaming, -squeaking, and chattering noise. This is the Wood of the Bats that we -are coming to, and that is some of their usual conversation. Under -the trees--there are over twenty of them, avavas, like great cedars, -ironwoods, mangoes; all big forest trees, and all covered with bats as -thick as a currant bush with currants--the squeaking and squealing -grows almost deafening, Thousands of great flying-foxes, with dark furry -bodies as big as cats, big spreading wings (now folded tightly up) and -sharp, keen fox-like heads, hang upside down on every tree, waiting -for the night to come, and whiling away the time by quarrelling and -swearing. They are all bad, these bats; they axe ugly, dirty, vicious, -destructive and greedy--yet they are strictly tabooed by the natives, -and no one dares to kill a single one. It is believed that the -prosperity of Tonga is inextricably associated with the bats, and that, -if they ever deserted the wood, the country would fall. They are sacred, -and must not be touched. - -Every evening, punctually at five o’clock, the bats take wing, and -rise from the trees like a screaming cloud of evil spirits. The sky is -blackened with their bodies as they go, and scattered all over with the -long streaming flights of separate bats that divide away from the main -body. They are off to feed--to feed all night upon the bananas and -pineapples and mangoes of the unhappy islanders, who lose thousands -of pounds’ worth of fruit and trade every year, but dare not revenge -themselves. Just at dawn, they will return, screaming and shoving rudely -as they settle down in the trees once more, squabbling for upper -berths, and trying to push into a nice comfortable place amidships of a -particular bough, by biting the occupant’s toes until he lets go. They -may have flown forty or fifty miles in the night, visited islands more -than twenty miles away, and devastated the plantations of Tonga from end -to end. They have worked hard for their suppers, and now they will doze -and squabble all day, once more, until evening. - -A few miles from the Wood of Bats, in the midst of exquisite scenery, -stands a famous avava known as Captain Cook’s Tree. It was under this -tree that the great explorer called together all the natives, on his -discovery of the islands in 1777, and addressed them by means of an -interpreter. The account of this will be found in “Cook’s Voyages.” The -tree is still in splendid condition, in spite of its age, which must -amount to many hundred years. Pigs were brought to Tonga by Cook in this -same year, and a few of the original breed are still to be seen in the -island--tall, gaunt, hump-backed creatures with immense heads and long -noses, contrasting oddly with the smaller and fatter kinds introduced by -later voyagers. - -The burial-place of the Tui Tongans made an object for another drive. -Before the introduction of Christianity, in early Victorian days, the -Tongans had two kings, an ordinary earthly king, who did all the hard -work of governing, and a heavenly king, the Tui Tonga, who was -supposed to be of divine descent, and was worshipped as a god. For many -centuries, the Tui Tongas were buried in great oblong raised enclosures, -three-terraced, and built of rough-hewn, closely fitted slabs from the -coral reef. Two of these great tombs still remain, hidden in tangled -thickets of low bush, and considerably worn by age. I had no means -of measurement, but judged the larger one to be about fifty yards by -thirty, the smaller somewhat less. The state of the coral slabs, and the -great trees that have grown up rooted among them, suggest that the tombs -are extremely old. Tradition among the natives takes them back beyond -the recollection of any of their ancestors; they cannot say when or why -they were built. The construction--a double terrace, each step about -five feet high--and the carefully arranged oblong shape, seem to point -to some special significance long since forgotten. There is also a -“trilithon” erection of three large blocks of stone, some miles away, -concerning which island traditions are silent. It could not have been -constructed by hand labour alone; some mechanical device must have been -employed to raise the centre stone to its present position. The ancient -Tongans, however, knew nothing of mechanics, and an interesting problem -is therefore set for antiquarians to solve. The height of the side -supports is about twenty feet, and the centre cross-piece, which rests -in a socket on each side, is a little less in length. - -The beautiful and interesting sea-caves--some swarming with birds, -others celebrated for their lovely colouring and formation--which are -found in the windward side of the island, I was unable to see, owing to -the bad weather of the rainy season, during which my visit was made. - -A “Chief” kava-party, however, got up for my benefit, consoled me for -the loss of the caves. Kava is the great national drink of Tonga, as of -many other South Sea islands. It is made from the hard woody root of -the Piper methysticum and is exhilarating and cooling, but not actually -intoxicating. In taste, it is extremely unpleasant till one gets used -to it, being peppery, soapy, and dish-watery as to flavour. I had -drunk kava before, however, and learned to recognise its pleasanter -properties; also, the old custom of chewing the kava-root, before -infusing it, which still obtains in some parts of Samoa, has been quite -given up in Tonga, and the pounding is done with stones. - -The scene was weird and strange in the last degree. I was the only white -person present. We all squatted on the mats in the chief’s house, the -natives in their valas and loose short gowns, with white scented flowers -in their hair; I in a smart demi-toilette evening dress, because I was -the special guest, and the chief’s family would expect me to honour them -by “dressing the part.” The only light was a ship’s hurricane lantern, -placed on the floor, where it threw the most Rembrandtesque of shadows -upon the silent circle of brown, glittering-eyed faces, and upon the -rapt ecstatic countenances of the kava-makers, as they went through all -the details of what was evidently an ancient religious ceremony, very -savage, very native, and not at all “missionary,” despite the church -membership of all the performers. There were loud sonorous chants and -responses, elaborate gymnastics, with the great twist of hibiscus fibre -that was used to strain the kava after it was pounded, and water poured -on; something very like incantations, and finally, a wild religious -ecstasy on the part of the kava-maker, who worked himself almost into a -fit, and at last sank back utterly exhausted, with the bowl of prepared -kava before him. This bowl was a standing vessel as big as a round -sponge bath, carved, legs and all, from one block of a huge forest -tree-trunk, and exquisitely polished and enamelled, by many years of -kava-holding. Its value was beyond price. - -The calling of names now began--first the chief’s, then mine, then the -other guests. There is great ceremony observed at kava-drinkings, and an -order of precedence as strict as that of a German Court. As my name was -called, I clapped my hands once, took the cocoanut bowl from the girl -who was serving it, and swallowed the contents at a draught. The next -name was then called, and the next drinker drank as I did. It is very -bad manners to act otherwise. The girl who served the kava walked round -our squatting circle in a doubled-up posture that must surely have made -her back ache; but custom forbade her to stand erect while serving. - -After the long ceremony was ended, the dignified white-haired chief held -a conversation with me, by means of an interpreter; and told me that -there were four ways of kava-drinking, each with its appropriate -etiquette. - -That which I had seen was the most important and elaborate of the four, -very seldom used, and only permitted to chiefs. We exchanged a good -many stately compliments through the interpreter, and I then took my -departure. - -It is near the end of my visit, and in a few more days, the steamer -takes me on to Haapai and Vavau and beautiful, steamy-hot Samoa. But -this is Christmas morning, and one can think of nothing else. - -Nothing? Well, those who know what it is to spend that day of days under -a burning tropic sky, with palms and poinsettia for Christmas garlandry, -instead of holly and mistletoe, know just what thoughts fly homewards -across twelve thousand miles of sea, and how far they are concerned with -the sunny, lonely Christmas of the present--how far with the dark and -stormy Christmases of the past, when snow and winter reigned outside, -but summer, more brilliant than all the splendours of southern world, -was within, and in the heart. But it is of the Tongan Christmas day that -I have to tell. - -I was awakened very early by--the waits! Whatever one expects under the -Southern Cross, one certainly does not expect that, and yet there they -were, a score of boys and youths playing merry tunes under my window, -and pausing now and then to see if I was not awake to come out and give -them their Christmas “tip.” - -[Illustration: 0388] - -I dressed hastily, and came on to the verandah. The music of the band, -which had puzzled me a good deal, now turned out to be produced solely -by mouth-organs, blown by a number of youths dressed exactly alike in -black valas, white linen jackets, and white uniform caps. The soul of -the Tongan loves a uniform above everything, and all the bands in the -islands--of whom there are an astonishing number--wear specially made -costumes of a rather military type. - -It was frightfully hot, for Christmas is midsummer here, and the day was -exceptionally warm in any case. - -But the “waits,” standing out in the burning sun, did not seem to feel -the heat at all. They blew lustily away at their mouth-organs, playing -English dance music, Tongan songs, missionary hymns, in wonderful time -and harmony, and with the inimitable Tongan verve and swing, poor though -the instruments were. The performance was quite worth the gift they -expected, I listened as long as they cared to play. Then they collected -their dues, and went off to serenade a white trader, who, I strongly -suspected, had been celebrating Christmas Eve after a fashion that would -not tend to make him grateful for an early call. - -For me, Christmas had begun on the previous evening when I went to the -midnight Mass at the church upon the shore, among the palms and -the feathery ironwood trees. In the crystal-clear moonlight, what a -brilliant scene it was! Even outside the church, the decorations could -be seen for miles, since they consisted of thousands and thousands of -half-cocoanut-shells, filled with cocoanut oil, and provided with a wick -of twisted fibre, which when lit, burnt with a clear ray like a star, -illuminating the walls of the churchyard, the outlines of the doors and -the ridges of the roof--even the winding walks about the building, too, -and the low-growing trees--with a perfect Milky Way of dancing light. - -Within, all the colours of a coral reef (which includes every hue of -a rainbow, and many more) were in full blaze about the tremendous, -unbroken floor, where the natives stood or sat cross-legged, dressed in -all their gayest finery. There was a heavy scent of perfumed cocoanut -oil, orange-blossom, and frangipani flowers and a rich glow of lights; -and the waves of gorgeous melody that burst forth now and again with the -progress of the service were like the billows of Time breaking upon -the shores of Eternity. Of all the choral singing that I heard in the -Pacific, that of Tonga was incomparably the fullest, the most splendid, -and most majestic. The singers of Manahiki are sweeter and stranger, -those of the Cook Islands more varied and soft, but the Tongan music is, -for sheer magnificence and volume, unsurpassable. - -The women, in their graceful tunics, with their elaborately dressed -hair, and their fine, dignified presence, were all unlike the soft, -sensuous, languorous syrens of Tahiti and Raratonga, They do not -encourage familiarity, even from white women, and their moral character -is much higher than that of their sisters in the far Eastern Pacific. -Women are treated with more respect in Tonga than in any part of the -Pacific. They have little to do in the way of household work, and -almost no field work. The men save them most of the hard labour, on the -undeniable ground that hard work makes a woman ugly, and they do not -care for ugly wives! - -Nearly every one wore a mat tied round the waist, partly concealing the -gay dress--in spite of the extreme heat of the night. Some of the mats -were new and clean, but most were old, ragged, and dirty. This curious -custom is a relic of ancient heathen days in Tonga, when a handsome -dress of any kind, worn by a commoner, was apt to arouse the dangerous -envy of a chief, and in consequence, a native who was wearing his “best” - generally tied the dirtiest old mat that he could get over all, so that -he might not look too rich! The reason has long since vanished, but -the custom remains in a modified form. A mat, tied round the waist with -strong sinnet cord, is considered a correct finish to the gayest of -festival costume in Tonga of to-day, and, as far as I was able to -ascertain, its absence, on occasions of ceremony, is considered rather -vulgar. - -The service was enlivened by the presence of a very large and extremely -loud brass band. Brass is a passion with the Tongan musician, and -he certainly makes the most of it. The effects produced are a little -monotonous to a European ear, but, none the less, impressive and fine. - -After the midnight mass, I went home in the bright moonlight, the gentle -stir of the trade-wind, the soft rustle of the ironwood trees, falling -with a pleasantly soothing effect upon ears a little strained and tired -by the strenuous character of the Tongan music. Next morning came the -waits, and in the afternoon there were games and sports of a rather too -familiar Sunday-school pattern, at the various mission stations. I did -not trouble to attend any of them, as the Pacific native is certainly -least interesting when most intent on copying the ways and fashions of -the white man. The cricket matches which came off at various intervals -during the few weeks of my stay, were well worth seeing, however, for -the Tongan is a magnificent cricketer, and has often inflicted bitter -defeat on the best teams that visiting men-of-war could put in the field -against him. - -The politically disturbed state of the island was interesting in one -way, but a serious disadvantage in another, since it prevented my -obtaining much information about many interesting native customs that -I should have been glad to investigate. I am afraid that I deserved the -worst that scientifically minded travellers could say of me, in Tonga, -for I merely spent the time enjoying myself after the pleasant island -fashion, and not in research or geographical note-taking, even so far as -was possible. Yet, after all, what are the islands, if not a Garden -of Indolence, a lotus-land, a place where one dreams, and wanders, and -listens to the murmuring reef-song, and sleeps under the shade of a -palm, and wakes but to dream again? Does one degenerate, in such a life? -Why, yes, of course--constantly, surely, and most delightfully. - -“_Be good, and you will be happy, but you won’t have a good time_,” says -“Pudd’nhead Wilson,” one of the wisest of modern philosophers. In the -islands, one is not good, in the ordinary Dr. Wattian sense of the term, -and perhaps one is not happy--though if so, one never finds it out. But -the good time one does have, and it is very good indeed. And if you do -not believe me, dear sensible reader, never be tempted to go and try, -for it is very likely that the good time and your own goodness would -mutually cancel one another, and you would be unvirtuous and bored -all in one. The islands are not for all, and the gateway to the -“Tir-na’n-Oge” is now, as ever, hard to find. - -The big Union steamer, with her ice, and her “cuisine” (cooking is never -cooking, on board a passenger vessel), and her dainty little blue and -white cabins, and her large cool saloon glittering with crystal and -gilding, came in in due time, and I went away with her to Samoa. The -three days’ run was broken by two calls in the Tongan group--one at -Haapai, and one at Vavau. - -Of Haapai, a long, low, wooded island, with a few hundred native -inhabitants, and one or two whites, we saw nothing but the king’s -palace--a great, square, two-storeyed, verandahed building, which is -never lived in--and the Wesleyan chapel, which has some of the -finest sinnet work in the Pacific to show. This sinnet work is quite -distinctive of the islands, and is very beautiful and artistic. It -is not one of the “curios” known to the markets and collections of -civilisation, because it is always done _in situ_, and cannot be -removed. At first sight, it looks like remarkably, good chip carving, -done on the capitals of pillars, and about the centres of supports -and beams, in various shades of red, black, brown, and yellow. Looking -closer, one sees that it is much more remarkable than carving, being a -solid mass of interwoven sinnet plait, as fine as very thin twine, wound -and twisted into raised patterns by the clever fingers of the natives. -In the church at Haapai, the sinnet plaiting is very fine and elaborate, -and certainly well worth seeing. The captain of the steamer, who acted -as our guide, made sure we had all seen it, and then took us a wild, -hot, hurried walk across the island, to the coral beach at the other -side, and past the palace, and along an endless cocoanut avenue, which -was very pretty, but---- - -We wanted our afternoon tea, and we mutinied at that point, and insisted -on going back to the ship. This grieved our commander, who conceived -that his duties to the Company required he should ensure every passenger -saw everything that was to be seen on the whole voyage, and shirked -nothing--but we threatened to overpower and maroon him, if he did not -take us back, so he returned, lecturing learnedly about the cutting off -of the “Port-au-Prince,” in Haapai, by the natives, in seventeen hundred -and I-forget-when. We ought to have been listening--but we wanted our -tea, and we weren’t. - -We reached Vavau just before dark, barely in time to admire the -wonderful windings and fiords, the long blue arms and bright green -islets, of this Helen among island harbours. Vavau is celebrated for its -beauty through all the South Sea world, and its loveliness has not been -one whit exaggerated. - -In the early morning--at half-past five, to be precise--the energetic -captain routed all the passengers out of their bunks, and compelled -them, by sheer force of character, to follow him, groaning and puffing, -up a hill five hundred feet high, and exceedingly precipitous--a mere -crag, in fact--that overlooked the harbour. We did not want to go, but -none of us were sorry we had been compelled, when we did get to the top -and saw that matchless harbour lying extended at our feet, mile after -mile of land-locked fiord and palmy headland and exquisite green island, -all set in a stainless mirror of flaming blue, and jewelled, where the -shallows lightened to the shore, with flashes of marvellous colour shot -up from the coral reef lying underneath. Rose and amethyst and violet, -and malachite green and tawny yellow--they were all there, painting -the splendid sweep of the harbour waters with hues that no mortal brush -could reproduce, or pen describe. We stayed there long, and even the -thought of breakfast, generally a moving call, did not hurry us away. - -In the afternoon, the captain had business to attend to, so he turned -out one of the officers to act as guide, and sent us all off to see -the Cave of the Swallows, and Mariner’s Cave, on the other side of the -harbour. - -If the Cave of the Swallows were situated on any European coast, it -would be as tourist-ridden a spot as the Blue Grotto of Capri, or -any other of the thousand famous caves through which holiday-making -travellers are dragged each summer season--and would consequently be -despoiled of half its loveliness. But it is very far away, in the South -Sea Islands, and though a passenger steamer does visit Vavau once a -month there are usually no tourists--only a missionary and a trader or -two. So the lovely place lies undisturbed almost all the time, and you -shall not find, when you row across the harbour to see it, that you -have to wait your turn in a crowd of other boats, full of romping and -larking trippers, with the guide of every party keeping a sharp look-out -to see that no one takes longer than he ought going over the “sight”--so -long as his charges remain outside. - -Instead of this, we glide silently under a noble archway some fifty feet -high, and enter a great, still, ocean sanctuary, that looks as if no -wandering oar had ever profaned its peace, since first the white man -came to these far-off isles. Outside, the water is Prussian blue in -colour, and over a thousand feet deep, but within the arch of the cave -the bottom shoots up till it is within a hundred feet of the glass-clear -surface on which we float, hanging above the silver-coloured coral reefs -of the deep sea-bed, like birds hanging in air. The roof and walls of -the cave are brilliant verdigris green, the water-floor, that curves so. -closely in and out of the numerous arches and recesses, where mysterious -shadows creep, is sapphire shot with fire. At one side of the cave there -is a dark winding corridor leading to depths unknown. We glide down -this a little way, and there before us opens out--surely, a temple and -a shrine! The water-floor spreads and broadens here into the carpet of -a high, still, secret inner cave, in the centre of which springs up a -splintered pedestal--shattered, one fancies, by the blow that broke the -image that must surely once have stood in this strange sea-shrine. From -an unseen rift in the roof, far above, a white ray of sun strikes down -into the cave, and falls like a blast from an offended heaven upon the -broken pedestal. - -There is a geological explanation, no doubt, but we shall not look for -it, for this is a wonder that would have delighted Victor Hugo himself, -who drew the scenery of the “Toilers of the Sea.” And Victor Hugo’s pen -would be needed by any one who would adequately describe the spot. - -There is a rock in the outer cave, that sounds like a church bell when -struck with an oar, and this delights the boatmen greatly, though they -have heard it every time the steamer came up to Vavau. It is, indeed, a -solemn and beautiful sound, and well suited to the place. - -Going back to the ship, we are shown the spot where the famous Mariner’s -Cave opens out, under water. There is nothing whatever to be seen, since -the entrance is six feet under water at low tide. The story was first -told to the world in Mariner’s “Tonga,” published 1802, and was utilised -by Byron in his poem of “The Island.” A young chief, it was said, was -chasing a turtle one day, and saw the creature dive. He followed it, and -was surprised to find that, on rising after his dive, he had reached an -under-water cave of considerable size, to which there was no outlet save -the one by which he had come in. Giving up the turtle, he dived again, -returned to the surface, and did not trouble himself about the cave -until, some months later, it occurred to him as an excellent place for -an elopement--the parents of the girl he loved having refused to -give her to him. So it came about that the young chief’s sweetheart -disappeared, and no one knew what had become of her until one day a -boating party, to their intense amazement, saw what appeared to be the -ghost of the girl rising from the heart of the waves. The apparition -stared round, saw the intruders, and immediately disappeared. She was -seen no more, but the story caused so much talk, that in the end the -true secret came out, and it was discovered that the chief had hidden -his lady-love in the cave, diving down with food to her day by day, -and even bringing torches, safely wrapped in leaves. The stem parents, -touched by so much devotion, relented, and the chief triumphantly -brought home his bride at last in full day. - -Mariner, who was interested in the ancient tale, succeeded in reaching -the cave himself, and found it as represented. He surmised that there -was an air supply, passing through invisible cracks in the rock above, -for the air seemed to keep fresh. There was something like a rough couch -of stone at one end, where the imprisoned girl had made her bed. No -light whatever penetrated the cavern. - -Since Mariner’s time, very few Europeans have succeeded in entering the -cave, which is extremely difficult to get into, owing to the length of -the passage under water, and the currents of the tides. About thirty -years ago, Captain Luce, of H.M.S. _Esk_, succeeded in entering the -cave, but rose too soon on going out, and lacerated his back so badly -against the coral spears under water, that he died in a few days. Since -then, I heard that one white man had gone safely in and returned, but no -one seemed to know who, or when. None of our party, at all events, felt -tempted to make the trial. - -The steamer was ready to start when we got back, so we hurried on board, -and started away for Samoa. There was much more to see in Vavau, but -the only way of seeing it was to stop over for a month and remain in the -village. For this no one had time. I was giving a month to each group -of islands, which is little enough in the Pacific--but I knew very well -that, unless I had had a vessel of my own, or a year or two extra to -spend, it was impossible to see all that could be seen. - -Tofoa, for instance, one of the Tongan Group, which is an active -volcano, and, naturally, not inhabited--what could be more interesting -than a call there? But uninhabited volcanoes do not furnish cargo for -steamship companies, so all we could see was a smear of smoke in the -far distance, as we steamed on our way to Apia, the capital of the -“Navigators” Group, better known, since the days of Stevenson, as Samoa. - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -_Stevenson’s Samoa--What happened when it rained--Life in a Native -Village--The Albino Chief--A Samoan “Bee”--The Tyranny of Time--Fishing -at Midnight--Throwing the Presents--My Friend Fangati--The Taupo -Dances--Down the sliding Rock--“Good-bye, my Flennie!”_ - -WHEN I woke up in the morning, the ship was still, and the familiar -chatter of island tongues, and splashing of island paddles, audible -outside the ports, told that we had reached Apia. - -Dressing is always a rush, under such circumstances. I hurried out on -the deck in even quicker time than usual, and hastened to enjoy a good -look at the little island that has been made famous the wide world over, -by the genius of the great writer who passed his latest years in exile -among those palmy hills. - -Upolu, Stevenson’s island, is the second largest in the Samoan Group, -being forty miles by eight. Savaii is a little wider. Tutuila is -smaller. The six other islands are of little importance. - -Apia and Stevenson’s home have been written about and described, by -almost every tourist who ever passed through on the way to Sydney. There -is little therefore to say that has not been said before. Every one -knows that Apia is a fair-sized, highly civilised place, with hotels -and shops and band promenades, and that Vailima, Stevenson’s villa, is -a mile or two outside. Every one has heard of the beautiful harbour of -Apia itself, with the blue overhanging hills, and the dark wooded peak -rising above all, on the summit of which the famous Scotsman’s tomb -gleams out like a tiny pearl--“under the wide and starry sky.” Since -the disturbances of 1899, most people have been aware that England -has absolutely relinquished any rights she had in Samoa, and that the -islands are now divided between Germany and America--Upolu being among -the possessions of the former. - -Perhaps some people have forgotten that Samoa is a fairly recent -discovery, having been first sighted by Bougainville in 1768. It is -supposed that the natives originally came from Sumatra. During the last -six hundred years, they were frequently at war with the Tongans -and Fijians, and from the latter learned the horrible practice of -cannibalism--which, however, they abandoned of their own accord a good -while before the coming of the first missionaries in 1833. - -They are a singularly beautiful race, and most amiable in character. -They are all Christianised, and a great number can read and write. -Tourists have done their best to spoil them, but outside the towns there -is much of the ancient simplicity and patriarchal character still to be -found. - -About two dozen Samoan gentlemen--I call them gentlemen, because in -manners and demeanour they really deserved the name, and many were -actual chiefs--had come on board the steamer, and were walking about the -deck when I came out. The air was like hot water, and there was not a -breath of wind. All the same, the Samoan gentlemen were quite cool, for -they wore nothing at all but a British bath-towel with red edges, tied -round the waist in the universal kilt style of the Pacific. In the Cook -Group, the garment is called a pareo, and is made of figured cotton. -In Tonga, it is a vala, and is usually cashmere. In Samoa the name -is changed to lava-lava, and the thing may be either a piece of plain -coloured cotton, or the bath-towel above mentioned, which is considered -a good deal smarter--but the costume itself is the same all through. - -Most of the men had their short-cut hair plastered snow-white with -lime, because it was Saturday. Almost every Samoan limes his hair on -Saturdays, partly to keep up the yellow colour produced by previous -applications, partly for hygienic reasons that had better be left to the -imagination. - -[Illustration: 0404] - -All the visitors displayed an incomparable self-possession and dignity -of bearing, not at all like the “Tongan swagger,” but much more akin to -the manner of what is known in society as “really good people.” Coupled -to the almost complete absence of clothes, and the copper skins, it was -enough to make one perfectly giddy at first. But afterwards, one grew -used to it, and even came to compare the average white man’s manner -disadvantageously with the unsurpassable self-possession and calm of the -unclothed native. - -Then came boats and landing and hotels, and the usual one-sided South -Sea town, with little green parrakeets tweedling cheerfully among the -scarlet flowers of the flamboyant trees, and looking very much as if -they had escaped from somewhere. And behold, as we were making our way -to the hotel, a heavy waterspout of hot-season rain came on, whereupon -the street immediately became a transformation scene of the most -startling character. - -The roadway had been full of natives in their best clothes, come down -to see the passengers--some in bath-towels, like the visitors to the -steamer, but many in the cleanest of shirts and cotton tunics, and -scores of pretty Samoan girls in civilised gowns of starched and laced -muslin, trimmed hats, and gay silk ribbons. The rain began to spout, as -only tropical rain can, and immediately things commenced to happen -that made me wonder if I were really awake. Under the eaves of houses, -beneath umbrellas, out in the street without any shelter at all, -the Samoans rapidly began undressing. Smart white shirts, frilled -petticoats, lacy dresses, all came off in a twinkling, and were rolled -up into tight bundles, and stowed away under their owners’ arms, to -protect the precious garments from the rain. Then down the street, with -bare brown legs twinkling as they ran, and bodies covered merely by the -“lava-lava,” scurried the bronze ladies and gentlemen who had looked -so smart and dressy a few brief seconds before. Some of the girls, who -could not get an inch of shelter under which to undress, merely pulled -their fine frocks up under their arms, and ran down the street looking -like very gay but draggled tulips set on two long brown stalks. It was -the oddest transformation scene that I had ever been privileged to look -on at, and it sent the passengers of the ship into such screaming fits -of laughter that they forgot all about keeping themselves dry, and -landed in the hotel in the condition of wet seaweed tossed up by the -waves. So we arrived in Samoa. - -There is no use in relating at length how I drove out to see Stevenson’s -much described villa at Vailima--now in the possession of a wealthy -German merchant, and much altered and spoiled--and how I did _not_ climb -the two thousand feet up to his tomb above the harbour, and was sorry -ever after. Rather let me tell how, tired of the civilised section of -the island, I took ship one day in an ugly little oil-_launch_, and -sailed away to see the life of a native village, down at Falepunu. -There is not much real native life now to be seen in the capital; for, -although the “faa Samoa” (ancient Samoan custom) is very strong all over -the islands, in Apia it is at a minimum, and the influence of the white -man has much increased since Stevenson’s day. Besides, how can one study -native customs, dining at a _table d’hôte_ and living in a great gilt -and glass hotel, situated in the midst of a busy street? - -So it was very gladly that I saw the wide blue harbour of Apia open out -before me, and melt into the great Pacific, the “league long rollers” - tossing our little cockle shell about remorselessly as we headed out -beyond the reef, and began to slant along the coast, Upolu’s rich blue -and green mountains unfolding in a splendid panorama of tropic glory, -as we crept along against the wind towards Falefa, our destined port, -nearly twenty miles away. Here and there, white threads of falling water -gleamed out against the dark mountain steeps; and the nearer hills, -smooth and rich and palmy, and green as a basket of moss, parted now -and then in unexpected gateways, to show brief glimpses of the wildly -tumbled lilac peaks of far-away, rugged inner ranges. A day of gold -and glitter, of steady, smiting heat, of beauty that was almost^ too -beautiful, as hour after hour went by, and found the glorious panorama -still unrolling before eyes that were well-nigh wearied, and bodies that -wanted shelter and food. - -But even a little oil-launch cannot take all day to cover twenty miles; -so it was still early in the afternoon when we glided into the harbour -of Falefa, and came to a stop in the very heart of Paradise. - -How to picture Falefa, to the dwellers in the far grey north! how to -paint the jewel-green of the water, the snow white of the sand, the -overhanging palms that lean all day to look at their own loveliness in -the unruffled mirror below; the emerald peaks above, the hyacinth peaks -beyond, the strangely fashioned out-rigged canoes, with their merry -brown rowers, skimming like long-limbed water-flies about the bay; -the far-away sweetness and stillness and unlikeness of it all! And the -waterfall, dropping down seventy feet of black precipitous rock right -into the sea’s blue bosom--and the winding, shady fiords, where the -water is glass-green with reflections of shimmering leaves--and the -little secluded brown houses, domed and pillared after the Samoan -fashion, that ramble about among the long avenues of palm--surely, even -in all the lovely South Sea Islands, there never was a lovelier spot -than this harbour of Falefa! - -We three--a half-caste Samoan lady, a New Zealand girl, and -myself--landed on the beach and gave over our things to a native boy, to -carry up to the great guesthouse at Falepunu, a mile further on. Every -Samoan village has its guest-house, for the free accommodation of -passing travellers, but few have anything that can compare with the -house where we were to stay--my companions for the night only, myself -for a week. - -A Samoan house, owing to the heat of the climate, is a roof and nothing -more, the walls being omitted, save for the posts necessary to support -the great dome of the roof. It is worth well looking at and admiring all -the same. Fine ribs made of strong flexible branches run diagonally from -eaves to crown, only an inch or two apart, and curved with exquisite -skill to form the arching dome. Over these, at an acute angle, are laid -similar ribs in a second layer, forming a strong, flexible ‘lattice. At -just the right intervals, narrow, curved beams cross behind these, and -hold them firm. The centre of the house displays three splendid pillars, -made from the trunks of three tall trees; these support the roof-tree, -and are connected with the sides of the dome by several tiers of slender -beams, beautifully graded in size and length. The guest-house of -Falepunu belongs to a high chief, and is in consequence exceptionally -handsome. Its roof-tree is fifty feet from the floor, and the width of -the house, on the floor-level, is the same. Forty wooden pillars, each -seven feet high, support this handsome dome, every inch of which is -laced and latticed and tied together with the finest of plaited cocoanut -fibre, stained black, red, and yellow, and woven into pattern like -elaborate chip carving. - -There is not a nail used in the construction of the house. One wet -afternoon I attempted to count the number of thousand yards of sinnet -(plaited cocoanut fibre) that must have been used in this colossal work, -and gave it up in despair. The number of the mats used in forming -the blinds was more calculable. Each opening between the pillars was -surmounted by seven plaited cocoanut-leaf mats, fastened up under the -eaves into a neat little packet. These could be dropped like a Venetian -blind, whenever rain or wind proved troublesome. The total number of -mats was two hundred and seventy-three. - -The floor of a Samoan house consists of a circular terrace, raised some -two feet above the level of the ground. It is surrounded by a shallow -ditch, and it is made of large and small stones, closely fitted -together, and covered with a final layer of small white coral pebbles -from the beach. This forms the carpet of the house, and is known as -“Samoan feathers,” from the fact that it also forms everybody’s bed at -night, covered with a mat or two. - -The chief, Pula-Ulu, and his wife, Iva, who were in charge of the -guest-house, in the absence of its owner, received us joyfully, and -proceeded to make a feast for us at once. Fowls were killed, baked -bread-fruit and taro brought from the ovens outside (which were simply -pits dug in the ground, and filled with hot stones), and oranges and -pineapples plucked from the nearest grove. We sat crosslegged on the -mats, and ate till we could eat no more; then, “faa Samoa,” we lay down -where we were to rest and doze away the hot hours, of the afternoon. - -In the evening, Iva lit a big ship’s hurricane lamp, and set it on the -floor; and half Falepunu came in to call. In rows and rows they sat on -the floor-mats, their brown, handsome faces lit up with interest and -excitement, fanning themselves ceaselessly as they sat, and asking -endless questions of the half-caste lady, who interpreted for the -others. I, as coming from London, was the heroine of the hour, for the -Samoans are all greatly interested in “Beritania” (Britain) and, in -spite of the German annexation, still prefer the English to any other -nation. - -The inevitable question: “Where was my husband?” followed by: “Why had I -not got one?”--in a tone of reproachful astonishment--was put by almost -every new-comer. The half-caste visitor explained volubly; but the -villagers still looked a little puzzled. The Samoans have in almost -every village a “taupo” or “Maid of the Village,” whose office it is to -receive guests, and take a prominent part in all public ceremonies and -festivals. But she only holds office for a very few years, until she -marries, and she is always surrounded, when travelling, by a train of -elderly attendants. An unmarried woman who had money of her own, who -wandered about alone, who held office in no village, here or at home, -this was decidedly a puzzle to the Falepunu folk, whose own women all -marry at about fourteen. They had seen white women; travelling with -their husbands, but never one who had ventured from Beritania all alone! - -There was evidently some difficulty, at first, in “placing” me according -to Samoan etiquette, which is both complex and peculiar. A white women -with her husband presents no difficulty, since the “faa Samoa” always -gives the superior honour to the man, and therefore the woman must only -receive second-class ceremony. In my case, the question was solved later -on, by classing me as a male chief! I was addressed as “Tamaite” (lady), -but officially considered as a man; therefore I was always offered kava -(the national drink of Samoa, never given to their own women, and not -usually to white women), and the young chiefs of the district came -almost every evening to call upon me in due form, sitting in formal -rows, and conversing, through an interpreter, in a well-bred, gracious -manner, that was oddly reminiscent of a London drawing-room. The women -did not visit me officially, although I had many a pleasant bathing and -fishing excursion in their company. - -On the first evening the callers stayed a long time--so long, that we -all grew very weary, and yearned for sleep. But they kept on coming, one -after another; and by-and-by half-a-dozen young men appeared, dressed in -kilts of coloured bark-strips; adorned with necklaces of scarlet berries -and red hibiscus flowers, and liberally cocoanut-oiled. In the centre -of the group was the most extraordinary figure I had ever seen--a white -man, his skin burned to an unwholesome pink by exposure, his hair pure -gold, extremely fine and silky, and so thick as to make a huge halo -round his face when shaken out. His eyes were weak, and half shut, and I -was not surprised to hear that he was not really of white descent, being -simply a Samoan albino, born of brown parents. This man, being the son -of a chief, took the principal figure in the dance that was now got -up for our amusement. The seven men danced on the floor-mats, -close together, the albino in the centre, all performing figures of -extraordinary agility, and not a little grace. The music was furnished -by the other spectators, who rolled up a mat or two, and beat time on -these improvised drums, others clapping their hands, and chanting a -loud, sonorous, measured song. - -At the end of the dance the performers, streaming with perspiration (for -the night was very hot) and all out of breath, paused for our applause. -We gave it liberally, and added a tin or two of salmon, which was -joyfully received, and eaten at once. All Samoans love tinned salmon, -which, by an odd perversion, they call “peasoupo.” No doubt the first -tinned goods seen in the islands were simply tinned peasoup. This would -account for the extraordinary confusion of names mentioned above. - -By this time we were so utterly weary that we lay down on the mats where -we were, and almost slept. Iva, seeing this, chased most of the callers -out with small ceremony, and got up the calico mosquito curtain that was -to shelter the slumbers of all three travellers. It enclosed a space of -some eight feet by six. Within, plaited pandanus-leaf mats were laid, -two thick, upon the white pebble floor, and Samoan pillows offered us. - -A Samoan pillow is just like a large fire-dog, being simply a length of -bamboo supported on two small pairs of legs. If you are a Samoan, you -lay your cheek on this neck-breaking arrangement, and sleep without -moving till the daylight. We preferred our cloaks rolled up under our -heads. - -The invaluable little mosquito tent served as dressing-room to all -of us, and very glad we were of it, for there were still a good many -visitors, dotted about the floor of the great guest-house, smoking -and chattering; and none of them had any idea that a white woman -could object to performing her evening toilet in public, any more than -a-Samoan girl, who simply takes her “pillow” down from the rafters, -spreads her mat, and lies down just, as she is. - -No-bed-clothes were needed, for the heat was severe. We fidgeted about -on our stony couch, elbowed each other a good deal, slept occasionally, -and woke again to hear the eternal chatter still going on outside -our tent, and see the light still glowing through the calico. It was -exactly, like going to bed in the-middle of a bazaar, after making a -couch out of one of the stalls. - -At last, however, the light went out; Iva, Pula-Ulu, and their saucy -little handmaiden and relative, Kafi, got under their mosquito curtains, -quite, a little walk away, at the other side of the dome, all the guests -departed, and there was peace. - -Next, morning my friends went away and I was left to study the fife of -a Samoan village alone, with only such aid as old Iva’s very few English -words could give me, since I did not know above half-a-dozen; sentences -of the Samoan tongue. There were no great feasts, no ceremonies or -festivals while I was in Falepunu, only the ordinary, everyday fife of -the village, which has changed extremely little since the coming of the -white men, although that event is three generations old. - -Perhaps the greatest change is in the native treatment of guests. -Hospitable, polite and pleasant the Samoans have always been and still -are; but in these days, when a white visitor stays in a native house, he -is expected to give presents when parting, that fully cover the value of -his stay. This is contrary to the original Samoan laws of hospitality, -which still hold good in the case of natives. No Samoan ever thinks of -paying for accommodation in another’s house, no matter how long his stay -may be; nor is there the least hesitation in taking or giving whatever -food a traveller may want on his way. But the white visitors who have -stayed in Samoa have been so liberal with their gifts, that the native -now expects presents as a right. He would still scorn to take money for -his hospitality, but money’s worth is quite another matter. - -Otherwise, the “faa Samoa” holds with astonishing completeness. Natives -who have boxes full of trade prints, bought from the lonely little -European store that every island owns, will dress themselves on -ceremonial occasions in finely plaited mats, or silky brown tappa cloth. -Houses on the verge of Apia, the European capital, are built precisely -as houses were in the days of Captain Cook; though perhaps an -incongruous bicycle or sewing-machine, standing up against the central -pillars, may strike a jarring note. Men and women who have been to -school, and can tell you the geographical boundaries of Montenegro, and -why Charles I.’s head was cut off--who know all about the Russo-Japanese -war, wear full European dress when you ask them to your house, and sing -“In the Gloaming” or “Sail away” to your piano--will take part in a -native “si va” or dancing festival, dressed in a necklace, a kilt, and -unlimited cocoanut-oil, and may be heard of, when the chiefs are -out fighting, roaming round the mountains potting their enemies with -illegally acquired Winchesters, and cutting off the victims’ heads -afterwards. The “faa Samoa” holds the Samoan, old and young, educated or -primitive, through life and to death. - -[Illustration: 0392] - -Uneventful, yet very happy, was the little week that time allowed me -among the pleasant folk of Falepunu. When the low, yellow rays of -the rising sun hot under the wide eaves of the great guest-house, -and striped the white coral floor with gold, and the little green -parrakeets began to twitter in the trees outside, and the long sleepy -murmur of the surf on the reef, blown landward by the sunrise wind, -swelled to a deep-throated choral song--then, I used to slip into my -clothes, come out from my mosquito tent, and see the beauty of the new -young day. Dawn on a South Sea Island! The rainbow fancies of childhood -painted out in real--the - - Dreams of youth come back again, - - Dropping on the ripened grain - - As once upon the flower. - -Iva, Pula-Ulu, and Kafi would be awake also, and moving about. No minute -of daylight is ever wasted in these tropical islands; where all the year -round the dawn lingers till after five, and the dark comes down long -before seven. None of my house-mates had much toilet to make. They -simply got up from their mats, hung up the pillows, put the mosquito -nets away, and walked forth; clad in the cotton lava-lavas of yesterday, -which they had not taken off when they lay down. Taking soap and bundles -of cocoanut fibre off the ever useful rafters they went to bathe in the -nearest river. Before long they came back, fresh and clean, and wearing -a new lava-lava, yesterday’s hanging limp and wet from their hands--the -Samoan generally washes his garments at the same time as himself. Then -Iva boiled water for my tea, and produced cold baked bread-fruit and -stewed fish, and I breakfasted, taking care to leave a good share of -tea, butter, and any tinned food I might open, for the family to enjoy -afterwards. It is a positive crime in Samoa to eat up any delicacy all -by yourself--an offence indeed, which produces about the same impression -on the Samoan mind as cheating at cards does upon the well-bred -European. The natives themselves usually eat twice a day, about noon, -and some time in the evening; but a Samoan is always ready to eat at any -hour, provided there is something nice to be got. Good old Iva enjoyed -my tea and tinned milk extremely, and so did her pet cronies. They used -to call in now and then, in the hope of getting some--a hope liberally -fulfilled by Iva, who distributed my goods among them with charming -courtesy, and a total innocence of any possible objection on my part, -which disarmed all criticism. I might have taken anything she had, from -her Sunday lava-lava to her fattest fowl, and kept it or given it away; -equally without remonstrance. Such is the “faa Samoa.” That any one -continues to retain anything worth having; under such circumstances, -speaks well for the natural unselfishness of the people. They may be a -little greedy with the whites--much as we ourselves should no doubt be -greedy if half-a-dozen millionaires were to quarter themselves in -our modest mansions, or come to stay in our quiet suburbs--but among -themselves they are wonderfully self-’ restrained, and at the same time -faultlessly generous. - -After my breakfast, following the agreeable Samoan custom, I lay down -on a mat and dozed a little, to feel the wind blowing over my face from -the sea, as I wandered half in and half out of the lands of dreams, -and saw with semi-closed eyes the sun of the hot morning hours turn the -green of the bush into a girdle of burning emerald-gold, clasped round -the pleasant gloom of the dark over-circling roof. Pula-Ulu was out on -“ploys” of his own; Kafi had gone to fish, or to flirt; Iva, pulling a -fly-cover over her body, slept like a sheeted corpse on her own mat, -off the other side of the central pillars. - -After an hour or two--there was never any time in Falepunu--I would -rise, and call for Kafi, and we would walk slowly through the smiting -sun, to a fairylike spot in the lovely bay of Falefa--a terrace of grey -rock clothed with ferns, and shaded by thick-growing palms and chestnut -and mango trees. The great white waterfall, cool as nothing else is cool -in this burning land, thundered within fifty yards of us, turning the -salt waters of the bay to brackish freshness, and spraying the hot air -with its own delicious cold. Here we swam and dived for hours at a time, -getting an old canoe sometimes, and paddling it up under the very spray -of the fall--upsetting it perhaps, and tumbling out While Kafi yelled as -if she could not swim a stroke, and anticipated immediate death (being, -of course, absolutely amphibious). A pretty little minx was Kafi, small -and black-eyed and piquante, always with a scarlet hibiscus bloom, or a -yellow and white frangipani flower, stuck behind her ear; always tossing -her head, and swaying her beautiful olive arms, and patting her small -arched foot on the ground, when she stood waiting for me under the -palms, as if she could not keep her elastic little frame, from dancing -of itself. Pretty, saucy, mischievous little Kafi, she gave me many a -bad moment wickedly calling out, “S’ark!” when we were swimming far from -land, in places where it was just conceivable that a shark might be; but -I forgive her everything, for the sake of that unique and charming small -personality of hers. Not even Fangati, the languorous sweet-eyed Taupo -of Apia, can compete with her in my memories of fascinating island girls -and pleasant companions. - -One morning--it must have been somewhere near the middle of the day--Iva -and Kafi and I were walking back from Falefa, tired out and very hungry -(at least, I will answer for myself), when we were hailed from the house -of a chief, and asked to come in. We did so, all saying, as we bowed our -heads to step under the low eaves: “Talofa!” (my love to you), and being -answered with a loud chorus: “Talofa, tamaite! (lady); Talofa, I va; -Talofa, Kafi.” I took my seat cross-legged on the mats, and looked about -me. All round the house in a Circle were seated a number of men, about -a dozen, each with a bundle of cleaned and carded cocoanut husk fibre, -called sinnet, beside him, and a slender plait of sinnet in his hand, to -which every minute added on an inch or so of length. It was evidently -a “bee” for making sinnet plait, and it solved a problem that had -perplexed me a good deal--namely, how all the thousands of sinnet -used instead of nails in building Samoan houses, were ever obtained. -Afterwards I learned that Samoan men occupy much of their unlimited -leisure time in plaiting sinnet. The bundle of husk and the-neat-little -coil of plait are to a Samoan man what her needle and stockings are to -a Scotch housewife; he works away mechanically with them in many an odd -moment, all going to swell the big roll that is gradually widening and -fattening up among the rafters; Some of the sinnet thus made is as fine -as fine twine, yet enormously strong.... - -My hosts, it seemed, were just going to knock, off work for the -present, and have some kava, and I was not sorry to join them, for kava -is a wonderfully refreshing drink, among these tropical islands, and -wholesome besides. It was made Tongan fashion, by pounding the dry -woody’ root with stones, pouring water over the crushed fragments, -and straining the latter out with a wisp of hibiscus fibre. A handsome -wooden bowl was used, circular in form, and supported on; a number of -legs--the whole being carved out of one solid block of wood. The ancient -Samoan way of preparation was to chew the kava root, and deposit the -chewed, lamps in, the bowl, afterwards pouring on the water; but this -practice has died out, in many parts of Samoa, though in some of the -islands it is still kept up. - -My kava On this occasion was not chewed, and I was thankful, as it is -unmannerly to refuse it under any circumstances. - -The kava made, the highest chief present called the names, according, to -etiquette, as in Tonga, in a loud resounding voice. I answered to my -own (which came first, as a foreign, chief) by clapping my hands, in the -correct fashion, and drained the cocoanut bowl that was handed me. Kava, -as I had already learned, quenches thirst; removes fatigue, clears the -brain, and is exceedingly cooling. If drunk in excess it produces a -temporary paralysis of the legs, without affecting the head; but very -few natives and hardly any whites do drink more than is good for them. - -After the kava, two young men came running in from the bush, carrying -between them an immense black wooden bowl, spoon-shaped, three-legged, -and filled with something exactly like bread-and-milk, which they had -been concocting at the cooking-pits. It was raining now, and the thrifty -youths had taken off their clothes, for fear of spoiling them, yet -they were dressed with perfect decency, and much picturesqueness. Their -attire consisted of thick fringed kilts, made of pieces of green banana -leaves (a banana leaf is often nine or ten feet long, and two or three -wide), and something like a feather boa, hung round the neck, of the -same material. Clad in these rain-proof garments, they ran laughing -through the downpour, their bowl covered with another leaf, and -deposited it on the floor, safe and hot. - -A section of banana-leaf was now placed on the mat beside each person, -also a skewer, made from the midrib of the cocoanut leaf. Then the -servers dipped both hands generously into the food, and filled each leaf -with the bread-and-milk, or “tafolo,” which turned out to be lumps of -bread-fruit stewed in thick white cream expressed from the meat of -the cocoanut. Better eating no epicure could desire; and the food is -exceedingly nourishing. We ate with the cocoanut skewers, on which -each creamy lump was speared; and when all was done we folded the -leaf-plates into a cone, and drank the remaining cream. Afterwards, Iva -and Kafi and I took our leave, and I hurried back to Falepunu, feeling -that my hunger and fatigue had been magically removed, and that I -was ready for anything more in the way of exercise that the day might -produce. - -I had no watch or clock with me, and this was certainly an advantage, -since it compelled me to measure time in the pleasant island fashion, -which simply marks out the day vaguely by hot hours and cool hours, and -the recurring calls of hunger. No one who has not tried it can conceive -the limitless freedom and leisure that comes of this custom. Time is -simply wiped out. One discovers-all of a sudden, that one has been -groaning under an unbearable and unnecessary tyranny all one’s -life--whence all the hurry-scurry of civilisation? why do people rush -to catch trains and omnibuses, and hasten to make and keep appointments, -and have meals at rigidly fixed times, whether they are hungry or not? -These are the things that make life short. It is inimitably long, and -curiously sweet and simple, in the island world. At first one finds it -hard to realise that no one is ever waiting for dinner, or wanting to go -to bed--that eating and sleeping are the-impulse of a moment, and not a -set task--but once realised, the sense of emancipation is exquisite and -complete. - -The Samoan does what he wants, when he wishes, and if he does not wish a -thing, does not do it at all. According, to the theology of our youthful -days, he ought in consequence to become a fiend in human shape; but he -does nothing of the kind. He is the most amiable creature on earth’s -round ball. Angry voices, loud tones even, are never heard in a Samoan -house. Husbands never come home drunk in the evening and ill-use their -wives; wives never nag at their husbands; no one screams at children, or -snaps at house-mates and neighbours. Houses are never dirty; clothes are -always kept clean; nothing is untidy, nothing superfluous or ugly. -There is therefore no striking ground for ill-temper or peevishness; -and amiability and courtesy reign supreme. The Samoan has his -faults--sensuality, indolence, a certain bluntness of perception as to -the white man’s laws of property--but they are slight indeed compared -with the faults of the ordinary European. And, concerning the tendency -to exploit the latter person, which has been already mentioned, it must -not be forgotten that if a white man is known to be destitute and in -want, the very people who would have eagerly sought for presents from -him while he was thought to be rich, will take him in, feed and-lodge -him; without a thought of payment, and will never turn him out if he -does not choose to go. - -Sometimes, in the long, lazy, golden afternoons, a woman or two would -drop in, and bring with her some little dainty as a present for the -stranger. “Palusani” was the favourite, made, as in Niué, of taro-tops -and cocoanut; the cook grating down the meat of the nuts, and straining -water through the oily mass thus produced. The cream is very cleverly -wrapped up inside the leaves, and these are again enveloped in larger -and tougher leaves. While baking, the cream thickens and condenses, and -permeates the taro-tops completely. The resulting dish is a spinachlike -mixture of dark green and white, odd to look at, but very rich and -dainty to eat. - -Another present was a sort of sweetmeat, also made from cocoanut cream, -which was baked into small brown balls like chocolates, each containing -a lump of thickened cream inside. These were generally brought tied up -in tiny square packets of green banana leaf. Small dumpy round puddings, -made of native arrowroot, bananas, cocoanut, and sugar-cane juice, used -also to be brought, tied up in the inevitable banana-leaf; and -baked wild pigeon, tender and juicy, was another offering not at all -unacceptable. As a typical millionaire, possessed of several dresses, -change for some sovereigns, and countless tins of salmon, I was expected -to give an occasional _quid pro quo_, which usually took the form of -tinned fish or meat, and was much appreciated. - -I do not know how late it was, one night--the moon had been up for many -hours, but no one seemed to want to go to bed--when I heard a sound of -splashing and laughing from the brightly silvered lagoon beyond the belt -of palms. I went out, and saw thirty or forty of the native women wading -about in the shallow water inside the reef, catching fish. It looked -interesting, so I shed an outer skirt or two, kilted up what remained, -and ran down the white shelving beach, all pencilled with the feathery -shadows of tossing palms, into the glassy knee-deep water. How warm it -was! as hot as a tepid bath at home--how the gorgeous moonlight flashed -back from the still lagoon, as from a huge silver shield! The whole -place was as light as day; not as a Samoan day, which is too like the -glare from an open furnace to be pleasant at all times, but at least, -as light as a grey English afternoon. - -The girls, wearing only a small lava-lava, were wading in the water, -some carrying a big, wide net made out of fine fibres beaten from the -bark of a Samoan tree; others trailing two long fringes of plaited palm -leaves, about a yard deep, and twenty or thirty yards long. These were -drawn through the water about twenty yards apart, the girls walking -along for a few minutes in two parallel rows, and then quickly bringing -the ends of the palm fringes together in an open V shape. The net was -placed across the narrow end of the V, and from the wide end two or -three splashed noisily down the enclosed space, driving before them into -the net all the little silvery fish who had been gathered together by -the sudden closing in of the palm-leaf fringes. Then there was laughing -and crying out,-and the moon shone down on a cluster of beautiful -gold-bronze figures, graceful as statues, stretching out their small -pretty hands and wild curly heads, diamond-gemmed with scattered drops -of water, over the gathered-in net, now sparkling and quivering with -imprisoned life. The captured fish were dropped into a plaited palm-leaf -basket; and then the two lines of girls separated once more, and marched -on through the warm silvery water, singing as they went. - -I think, though I do not know, that this simple sport (which was, after -all, a necessary task as well) went on nearly all the night. The Samoan -is not easily bored, and no one minds losing a night’s rest, when there -is all the hot day to doze on the mats. I gave up an hour or so, and -returned to the guest-house, loaded with presents of fish. It was quite -absurd, but I wanted to go to bed, silly inferior white person that I -was! so I crept under my calico tent, and “turned in,” feeling amid the -stir and chatter, the singing and wandering to and fro, of those moonlit -small hours, exceedingly like a child that has to follow nurse and go to -sleep, while all the grown-ups are still enjoying themselves downstairs. - -The night before I left for Apia once more, I bought my farewell -presents at the solitary little store that was marooned away down on -the beach at Falefa, and bore on its house front the mysterious -legend--“MISIMOA”--all in one word--translatable as “Mr. Moore!” Advised -by the trader’s native wife, I got several lava-lavas for the old chief -and his wife, also a “Sunday frock” piece of white muslin, and some -lace, for Iva herself. Poor old Iva! she could not afford herself many -clothes, being only a caretaker in the great house; and I had felt sorry -for her when I saw her missionary-meeting frock--only an old blue print. -All the Samoan women love to turn out in trade finery on Sundays, and a -white muslin, with lace, made exactly like a British nightdress, is the -height of elegance and good form. I gave Pula-Ulu, furthermore, a yellow -shirt spotted with red horses; and as a final gift for Iva, I selected a -large white English bath-towel, with crimson stripes and edge. This last -I knew would certainly be Iva’s best week-day visiting costume for some -time to come. - -All these splendours I tied up in a brown paper parcel, and left on -my portmanteau. Samoan etiquette is very strict about the giving and -receiving of presents, and prescribes absolute ignorance, on the part -of the recipient, of any such intention being about; but Iva could not -resist pinching the parcel, and whispering--“Misi! what ‘sat?” - -“Ki-ki, Iva,” (food), I answered. - -“You lie!” said Iva delightedly, poking me in the ribs. She had no idea -that she was not expressing herself with the most perfect elegance and -courtesy; the Samoan tongue has no really rude words, and Samoans often -do not realise the quality of our verbal unpolitenesses. - -Next morning, however, when my “solofanua” (animal that runs along the -ground-->horse) was standing out under the bread-fruit trees, and all my -goods had been tied about the saddle, till the venerable animal -looked like nothing on earth but the White Knight’s own horse--Iva and -Pula-Ulu, bidding me good-bye with the utmost dignity, did not even -glance at the parcels which I threw across the house, at their heads, -narrowly escaping hitting their old grey hair. This was etiquette. In -Samoa, a formal gift must be thrown high in the air at the recipient, so -as to fall at his feet; and he must not pick it up at once, but simply -say “Fafekai” (thank you) with a cold and unmoved accent, waiting until -the giver is gone to examine the present. The inner meaning of the -custom is the supposed worthlessness of the gift, when compared with -the recipient’s merits--it is mere rubbish, to be cast away--and the -demeanour of the recipient himself is intended to suggest that in any -case he is not eager for gifts. - -A long, hot ride of twenty miles back to Apia and civilisation filled up -the day. The pendulum of Time, held back for a whole dreamy, lazy week, -had begun to swing once more; and all day I worried about the hour I -should get in. I was late for _table d’hote_; I was met by a “little -bill”; and the mail had come in since I left. Thus Apia welcomed me; and -thus I “took up the white man’s burden” once again. - -***** - -“Talofa!” says a gentle yet insistent voice. - -It is only half-past six, and I am exceedingly sleepy, so I bury my face -in the pillow, and try not to hear. - -“Talofa!” (How do you do?), repeats the voice, a little louder, and my -basket armchair creaks to the sudden drop of a substantial weight. I -open my eyes, and see, through the dim mist of the mosquito-curtains, -the taupo, Fangati, sitting beside my bed. - -Fangati is my “flennie,” and that means a good deal more in Samoa than -the cold English word “friend,” from which if is derived. She attached -herself to me upon my arrival in Apia, some weeks ago, and has ever -since continued to indicate, in the gentle Samoan way, that she prefers -my company to that of any other white woman on the island. There is -nothing contrary to Samoan etiquette in her calling upon me at 6.30 -a.m., for Samoa knows not times or seasons, save such as are pleasing to -itself for the moment. If I were suffering from sleeplessness and went -to call on Fangati at midnight, she would certainly awake, get up off -her mat, take a fan in her hands, sit down cross-legged on the floor, -ready to talk or yarn for the rest of the night--without the smallest -surprise or discomposure. So, aspiring after the ideal of Samoan -politeness, I feel bound to shake myself awake, and talk. - -Fangati is very much “got up” this morning. She is a chief’s daughter, -of high rank, and her wardrobe is an extensive one. To-day she has a -short tunic of tappa (native cloth, beaten out of the bark of a paper -mulberry tree), satiny brown in colour, and immensely pinked and -fringed. This is worn over a lava-lava, or kilt, of purple trade print, -reaching a little below her knees. Her beautiful pale brown arms (all -Samoan women have exquisitely shaped arms) and small arched brown feet -are bare. In her thick, wavy hair she has placed one large scarlet -hibiscus flower, and there are three or four long necklaces round her -neck, made of the crimson rind of a big scented berry, cut into curly -strips. One of these, as a matter of common courtesy, she flings over -my nightdress as we talk, and smiles sweetly at the brilliant effect -achieved. - -“Ni--ice!” says Fangati. She can speak quite a good deal of English, but -she smooths and trims it prettily to suit her own taste, and the harsh -language of the black North loses all its roughness on her lips. - -She has come to tell me that there will be dancing at the village of -Mulinuu this afternoon, as it is the German Emperor’s birthday, and a -great many kegs of salt beef and boxes of biscuit have been given to the -villages by the Government, to celebrate the day. (Not such a bad method -of encouraging loyalty in a newly acquired colony, either.) There -are to be some taupo dances, and Fangati will take a leading part. -Therefore I must be certain to come and see my “flennie” perform. This -matter settled, Fangati gets up and drifts to the washstand, tastes my -cold cream and makes a face over it, points to a jug of cold tea and -says “You give?” shares the luxury with her ancient chaperon, who is -sitting on the doormat, and then melts away down the verandah, dreamily -smoking a native-made cigarette. - -It is now time to explain what a taupo is, and why the dances to-day -will be especially attractive. . - -Most Samoan villages possess a taupo, or mistress of the ceremonies, -who has many duties, and many privileges as well. She is always young, -pretty, and well-born, being usually the daughter of a high chief. She -remains unmarried during her term of office, which may last for many -years, or for only a few months. The propriety of her conduct is -guaranteed by the constant presence of certain old women, who always -accompany her on visits or journeys. Sometimes her train is increased by -the addition of a dwarf or a cripple, who seems to act a part somewhat -similar to that of a mediaeval court fool. Her duties oblige her to -receive and entertain all guests or travellers who pass through her -village; to make kava (the universal drink of the Pacific islands) for -them, welcome them to the guest-house, which is a part of every Samoan -settlement, and dance for their amusement. She is treated with royal -honours by the villagers, always handsomely clothed, and luxuriously fed -on pig and chicken, and never required to do any hard work, while the -other girls have to be content with taro-root and bread-fruit, and are -obliged to work in the fields, carry water, and fish on the reef in the -burning tropic sun. When there is a festival, she takes the principal -part in the dances; and when the tribes are at war (as occasionally -happens even to-day) the taupo, dressed as a warrior, marches out with -the ceremonial parade of the troops, and acts as a _vivandière_ during -the fight, carrying water to the soldiers, and bringing ammunition when -required. This duty is not one of the safest, for, although no Samoan -warrior knowingly fires on any woman, much less on a taupo, stray -bullets take no account of persons, and many a beautiful young “Maid of -the Village,” in times past, has justified her warrior dress by meeting -with a soldier’s death. - -Well-mannered as all Samoan women are, the taupo is especially noted for -the elegance of her demeanour. My “flennie’s” bearing reminds me oddly -at times of the manner of a London great lady, accustomed to constant -receiving, and become in consequence almost mechanically “gracious.” - She never moves abruptly; her speech is calm and self-possessed, and her -accent soft and _traînant_. There are, however, taupos and taupos. Vao, -who lives just across the way, is by way of being an “advanced woman.” - She plays native cricket in a man’s singlet and a kilt, dances a knife -dance that tries the nerves of every one that looks on, wears her hair -short and is exceedingly independent, and a little scornful. Vao does -not want to marry she says; but I have an idea, all the same, that -if just the right sort of young chief came along, with just the -irresistible number of baskets of food (these take the place of bouquets -and chocolate boxes among Samoan wooers), Vao would renounce her dignity -of taupo just as readily as other Maids of the Village have done when -Mr. Right appeared. On her wedding day she would dance her last dance -for the villagers, according to immemorial custom, and thenceforward -live the quiet home-life of the Samoan wife and mother, all the -footlights out, all the admiring audience gone, and only the little -coral-carpeted, brown-roofed cottage with its small home duties and -quiet home affections left. - -Then there is the taupo Fuamoa--but of her more anon, as the Victorian -novelist used to say. - -Early in the afternoon, when the sun was at its very hottest--and what -that heat can be, at 130 south, in the height of the hot season, let -Pacific travellers say--I made my way down to Mulinuu under a big -umbrella, and took my place on the mats laid to accommodate the -spectators. The dancing was in full swing. A long row of young men, -dressed in short kilts of many-coloured bark strips--red, pink, green, -yellow, purple--and decked out with anklets of green creepers and -necklaces of big scarlet berries, which looked just like enormous coral -beads, were twirling and pirouetting, retreating, advancing, and waving -their arms, in wonderfully perfect time. The Samoan, man or woman, is -born with a metronome concealed somewhere in his or her works, to all -appearance. Certainly the exquisite sense of time and movement displayed -in children’s games, grown-up dances, and all the songs of the people, -seems almost supernatural, as the result of unaided impulse. - -The arms and hands play a remarkable part in the dance. Every finger is -made a means of expression, and the simultaneous fluttering and waving -of the arms of an entire _corps-de-ballet_ can be compared to nothing -but the petals of a bed of flowers, sent hither and thither by a -capricious wind. - -There is no instrumental music, for the Samoans--strange to say, for a -music-loving people--have no instruments at all, unless one may count -the occasional British mouth-organ. But the sonorous, full-voiced -chanting of the chorus that sits cross-legged on the grass at a little -distance, leaves nothing to be desired in the way of orchestra. A -favourite tune, which one is sure to hear at every Samoan dance-meeting -or “siva” is the following, commenced with a loud “Ai, ai!” - -It is first sung very slowly, and gradually increased in speed until the -dancers give up in despair.’ ‘The faster they have danced before giving -in, the louder is the applause. - -[Illustration: 0312] - -By-and-by the men conclude their dance, and retire, loudly clapped, -and followed by cries of “Malo! malo!” (well done). A short interval -follows. The many-coloured crowd seated on the grass fans itself, smokes -cigarettes, and chatters; the dry palm-fronds rustle in the burning sky -overhead, harshly mimicking the cool whisper of forest leaves in gentler -climes. Suddenly six handsome young men, splendidly decorated, their -brown skins satiny with’ rubbing of perfumed cocoanut-oil, rush into -the middle of the green, and in the midst comes a seventh, smaller, -slighter, and handsomer than the rest. What a beautiful youth! almost -too young, one would have thought, for the smart black moustache that -curves above his upper lip--wonderfully active, supple, and alive in -every movement--a skin like brown Lyons silk, limbs---- Why, it is -a girl! the taupo Fuâmoa, dressed (or rather undressed) as a Samoan -warrior, and full to the brim of mischief, sparkle, and fun. She wears -a fringe of coloured bark-strips round her waist, and a very big kilt -of scarlet and white striped cotton underneath. The rest of her attire -consists of a necklace of whale’s teeth inestimably valuable, a -string of red berries, and a tall helmet, or busby, apparently made of -brilliant yellow fur. Her exquisitely moulded figure is as Nature made -it, save for a rubbing of cocoanut-oil, that only serves to bring out -the full beauty of every curving line. Strange to say, the black-painted -moustache is wonderfully becoming, so too is the imposing helmet; -and does not Fuamoa know it? and is not she saucy, and dainty, and -kitten-like, as she frisks and plays in the centre of the dance, making -the prettiest of eyes at the audience, and flashing her white teeth -delightedly under the wicked little black moustache? She is a celebrated -dancer, being only surpassed on the island by one other taupo--Vao, who -is not appearing to-day. You would never think, as her little brown feet -twinkle over the grass, and her statuesque brown arms wave above her -head, while the merry smile ceaselessly comes and goes, that Fuamoa is -suffering positive agonies all the time, from the splendid war-helmet -that adorns her head; yet that is the truth. One must indeed suffer to -be beautiful, as a Samoan taupo. Before the helmet is put on, the girl’s -long thick hair is drawn up to the top of her head, and twisted as -tightly as strong arms can twist it, so that her very eyebrows are -pulled out of place, and every hair is a separate torture. Then the -great helmet is fastened on as firmly as a rock, with countless tight -cords, and the dancer is ready for her part, with a scalp on fire and -a torturing headache, which will certainly last until she can take the -cruel decoration off. - -[Illustration: 0315] - -There are several taupo dances this afternoon, but only two of the -girls have the courage to wear the helmet. Fangati, my little “flennie,” - frankly confesses that she cannot stand it. “He made me cly-y-y! -too much!” she says, and shows me the pretty wreath of crimson berry -peelings and green leaves that is to adorn her own curly head. - -These helmets, it may be noted, are not made of fur, as one might -suppose at a first glance. The material is human hair, cut from the head -of a Samoan girl, and dyed bright yellow with lime. In time of war, it -is a common thing for a girl to offer up her beautiful tresses to make -a helmet for father, husband, or lover; and the wearer of such a gift is -as proud as a knight of Arthur’s Round Table may have been, bearing on -his crest his lady’s little pearl-broidered glove. - -It is Fangati’s turn to dance now, and out she trips, wearing a valuable -mat of the finest plait, her pretty wreath, countless scarlet necklaces, -and a modest girdle of coloured silk. Fangati has the prettiest foot -and hand in Apia, and she is a dainty little dancer--not so marvellously -agile and spirited as Fuamoa, and with much less of “devil” in her -composition, but a pretty and a pleasant creature to watch. She has -reached the twenties, and gone nearly half-way through them, so that she -is in a fair way to become an old maid, according to Samoan ideas; but -she still retains her maiden state, and declares she will not marry, in -spite of good offers from several chiefs. It is said in Apia that she is -proud, and wishes to marry a white man--which is much as if a charming -English country girl should determine to mate with nothing less than -a duke. Country lasses do marry dukes, but not often; and there is -not much more chance of my “flennie’s” attaining her ambition, unless -Providence is very kind. - -[Illustration: 0433] - -[Illustration: 0438] - -The ordinary Samoan is obliged to do a little work now and then, since -yam patches must be cultivated, breadfruit plucked and cooked, banana -and arrowroot puddings made, fish caught, nets woven, houses built and -repaired. But all in all there is not much to do, and the real business -of life in Samoa is amusement. _Le monde où l’on s’amuse_, for most -people means a certain circle of London and Paris; but for all who have -travelled in the South Seas, it means, once and for all, Samoa. - -The taupo is of course at the head and front of every diversion, for, -little as the other people have to do, she has less, having nothing at -all. A day at Papaseea is one of her favourite delights. During my stay -in Samoa one of these pleasant native picnics was organised for me, and -I set off on a lovely morning for the “Sliding Rock,” accompanied by -fifteen native and half-caste girls, stowed away in six buggies. It -was a long drive in the burning sun, and afterwards a long rough -walk through the bush, among wild pineapples, scarlet hibiscus, tall, -creamy-flowered, pungent, scented ginger-bushes, red-fruited cacao, -quaint mammee-apple trees, mangoes, Pacific chestnuts, and countless -other strange tropic growths. Hot and tired as we all were, the Papaseea -rock, when we reached it, seemed a perfect Paradise. - -Imagine a deep gorge in the heart of green, heavily-wooded hills; at -the bottom, a narrow channel shaded by overhanging trees, where the pure -mountain water runs clear and cold and deep, amber-brown pools quiver -at the foot of white plunging falls--one only some seven feet high, the -other a good thirty. This last was the Sliding Rock, over which we were -all going to fling ourselves _à la_ Sappho by-and-by, only with less -melancholy consequences. It looked formidable enough, and when Pangati -and the others, with cries of delight, pulled off their dresses, wound -white and pink and green cotton lava-lavas over one shoulder, and -round from waist to knee, crowned themselves picturesquely with woven -fern-leaves, and plunged shrieking over the fall, I began to wish I had -not come, or coming, had not promised to “slide.” However, there was no -help for it, so I got into my English bathing-dress, which excited -peals of merry laughter, because of its “continuations,” waded down the -stream, and sitting in the rush of the water, held tightly on to a rock -at each side, and looked over my own toes at the foaming, roaring thirty -feet drop. - -It was all over in a minute. Just an unclasping of unwilling hands -from the safe black rocks, a fierce tug from the tearing stream, an -exceedingly unpleasant instant when one realised that there was no going -back now at any price, and that the solid earth had slipped away as it -does in the ghastly drop of a nightmare dream; then nothing in the world -but a long loud roar, and a desperate holding of the breath, while the -helpless body shot down to the bottom of the deep brown pool and up -again--and at last, the warm air of heaven filling one’s grateful lungs -in big gasps, as one reached the surface, and swam across to the other -side of the pool, firmly resolved on no account to do it again, now that -it was over. - -It was pleasant, afterwards, to sit among the rocks above the fall, and -watch one after another of the native and half-caste girls--including a -very charming and highly educated half-American, who had been to college -in San Francisco, and to smart society dances in Samoa--rush madly over -the fall, leaving behind them as they went a long, loud yell, like the -whistle of a train going into a tunnel. One native girl daringly went -down head first; another, standing incautiously near the edge of the -fall, lost her balance, and simply sat down on the pool below, dropping -through the air with arms and legs outspread like a starfish. Fangati -seized a friend in her arms and tumbled over the verge with her, in -a perfect Catherine wheel of revolving limbs. It was hours before the -riotous party grew tired, and even then, only the sight of large green -leaves being laid out on the stones, and palm-leaf baskets being opened, -brought them out of the water, and got them into their little -sleeveless tunics and gracefully draped kilts. By this time, the pretty -Samoan-American’s mother had laid out the “ki-ki”--baked fowl and pig, -taro-root, yams, bananas, pineapples, guavas, European delicacies -such as cake and pies, and native dainties, including the delicious -_palusami_, of which I have spoken before. The drinking cocoanuts had -been husked and opened by the boy who brought the food, and there they -stood among the stones, rows of rough ivory cups, lined with smooth -ivory jelly of the young soft meat, and filled with fresh sweet water, -such as is never to be tasted out of the cocoanut-land. Our plates were -sections of green banana-leaf; our forks were our fingers. And when -every one had fed, and felt happy and lazy, we all lay among the rocks -above the fall, in the green shadow of the trees, and did nothing -whatever till evening. Then we climbed back to the road, and drove -home, six buggies full of laughing brown and white humanity, crowned -and wreathed with green ferns, and singing the sweet, sad song of -Samoa--“Good-bye, my flennie”--the song that was written by a native -only a few years ago, and has already become famous over the whole -Pacific. It is the farewell song of every island lover, the melody -that soars above the melancholy rattling of the anchor chains on every -outward-bound schooner that spreads her white wings upon the breast -of the great South Seas. And for those who have known the moonlight -nights of those enchanted shores, have smelt the frangipani flower, and -listened to the soft singing girls in the endless, golden afternoons, -and watched the sun go down upon an empty, sailless sea, behind the -weird pandanus and drooping palms--the sweet song of the islands will -ring in the heart for ever. In London rush and rain and gloom, in the -dust and glitter of fevered Paris, in the dewy cold green woods of -English country homes, the Samoan air will whisper, calling, calling, -calling--back to the murmur of the palms, and’ the singing of the coral -reef, and the purple tropic night once more. - - -“GOOD-BYE, MY FLENNIE.” - -(Song, with Samoan words, English beginning to each verse.) - - -[Illustration: 0317] - - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -_Southward to New Zealand--Into the Hot-Water Country--Coaching Days -come back--The Early Victorian Inn--The Fire and Snow of Ruapehu--A -Hotel run wild--Hot Lakes and Steaming Rivers--The Devil’s Trumpet--The -Valley of the Burning Fountains--Waking up the Champagne Lake._ - -OF the other island groups that I visited during that pleasant year or -two of wandering--strange Fiji, exquisite Norfolk Island, the wicked, -unknown New Hebrides--I have told elsewhere. But before the great P. & -O. liner carried me away from Sydney on the well-known track across the -seas to England and home, I had a journey through New Zealand that -was second to nothing in the world, for pure enjoyment, but the -unsurpassable Islands themselves. - -New Zealand is not yet fully opened up--that was what the geography -books said in my school days. The saying, like most geography-book -information, slipped through my mind easily, and did not create any -marked impression. The marked impression came later, when I went half -round the world to see New Zealand, and discovered that I could not take -train to just anywhere I chose. It seemed incredible, in a country as -highly civilised as France or Germany, that coaches--not the ornamental -tourist brand, run as an accompaniment to railways, but real Early -Victorian coaches, with “no frills on them” of any sort or kind--were -the only means of transit, save boats, to a great part of the famous hot -lake and river district of the North Island. One could go to Rotorua, -the most remarkable collection of geysers and hot lakes, direct by rail -from Auckland. But the lovely Wanganui River, the beautiful up-country -bush, and whole duchies of hot-water and mud-volcano land, could only be -“done” by coach and boat. - -[Illustration: 0447] - -This made the journey more interesting, on the whole, though it was a -little amazing at first to leave the railway far behind, and strike -out right into the early nineteenth century. One should have worn -side-curls, a spencer, and a poke bonnet, instead of the ordinary -tourist coat and skirt and useful straw hat, to feel quite in character -with the mud-splashed coach, its six insides, two outsides, and four -struggling, straining horses; the days of wind and shower, the hurried -meals eaten at lonely little wayside inns, and the nights spent in -strange barrack-like, barn-like places, where the stable was of more -importance than the house, and every one always arose and fled like a -ghost at the early dawn of day. - -But first, after the railway town and railway hotel were left behind, -came Wanganui River, a whole day of it; nearly sixty miles of exquisite -loveliness, viewed in perfect comfort from the canopied deck of a river -steamer. The Wanganui has been called New Zealand’s Rhine, but it no -more resembles the Rhine than it resembles a garden-party or an ostrich -farm. It has nothing whatever in common with Germany’s great historic -river but its beauty; and the beauty of the Wanganui is of an order very -far indeed removed from that of the ancient castle-crowned streams of -Europe, which are strewn with records of dead and decaying æons of human -life. Solitude, stillness, absolute, deathly loneliness are the keynotes -of Wanganui scenery. Shut in by fold on fold of great green mountain -peaks, scarp on scarp of fern-wreathed precipice, one can almost fancy -that the swift little paddle-steamer is churning her way for the first -time into solitudes never seen of man. Now and then a Maori dug-out -canoe, long and thin and upturned at the ends, may be sighted riding -under the willows, or gliding down-stream to the swift paddle-strokes -of its dusky-faced occupant. At rare intervals, too, the spell of silent -lonelinesses broken by the sight of some tiny river-side settlement -perched on a great green height--half a dozen wooden houses, and a -tin-roofed church; the whole being labelled, with some extraordinarily -pretentious name. One of our passengers that day got in at London, and -went on to Jerusalem; another was booked from Nazareth to Athens! - -All New Zealanders are _not_ Maories, despite the hazy ideas as to -colour which exist at home. There is a little trifle of nine hundred -thousand full-blooded white settlers, to compare with the few thousand -native Maories still left, in the land they once owned from sea, to sea. -Still, the Maori in New Zealand is an unmistakable fact, and a most -picturesque fact into the bargain. To see a family taking deck passage -on the boat--handsome dark-eyed women, with rosy cheeks in spite of -their olive skins, and beautifully waved black hair; bright elfish -little children; dogs and cats and a sack or two for luggage--: is -an interesting spot in the day’s experience, especially when some -patronising passenger, accustomed to “natives” in other countries, gets -one of the delightful set-downs the Maori can give so effectively. -For all their shapeless clothing and heavy blankets, hatless heads and -tattooed lips and chins, the New Zealand Maories are very much “all -there”; and when the patronising saloon passenger struts up to one, and -remarks: “Tenakoe (good-day), Polly! You got ums nicey little fellow -there, eh?” - -“Polly” will probably reply in excellent English: “My name happens to -be Te Rangi, not Polly; and as for the child you are referring to, I -believe it belongs to the lady in the yellow plaid sitting aft!” - -At the end of the day comes an hotel, standing on a wooded cliff above -the river, and looking down upon a long lovely stretch of winding water -and high-piled forest. The night is spent here, and in the morning -comes the coach, with its team of four fine satin-skinned bays, its -many-coated driver, its portmanteaux on the roof, mysterious little -parcels in the “boot,” and confidential letters in coachman’s hat, for -all the world like something in Charles Dickens. There is no bugle and -no guard, and the coach itself is a high, long-legged, spidery thing -enough, not even painted red, and though it is “Merry Christmas” time, it -is a warm summer day, with some prospect of thundery rain, but not -the faintest of any typical Dickensesque Christmas weather. Still, the -sentiment is there, so one may as well make the most of it. - -All day, muddy roads and straining horses; all day, a long pull up-hill; -half the day rain in the wet lovely bush, starring and sparkling the -exquisite tree ferns, those fine ladies of the forest; crystal-dropping -the thick coat of ferns that tapestries the tall cliffs, shutting in our -road. Beneath the wheel curve innumerable black-green gorges, deep -and dark as Hades, gurgling in their mysterious depths with unseen -full-throated streams and half-glimpsed waterfalls. About and above -us rises the impenetrable “bush”--tall green trees, feathery, cedary, -ferny, flowery, set as close together as the spires of moss on a -velvet-cushioned stone, shutting out half the sky; marking off an -unmistakable frontier between the territory of still unconquered Nature -and the regions wrested from her by toiling Man. Wood-pigeons flash -their blue-grey wings across the valleys; the merry mournful _tui_ -flutes “piercing sweet by the river,” undisturbed by our rattling -wheels. There are wild creatures in plenty, further back in the -bush--wild boars, wild cattle, wild cats, and “dingoes” or dogs--all -originally escaped from civilisation, but now as wild as their own -savage ancestors. The feathery bracken, that carpets all the banks by -the wayside, was, and indeed still is, a staple food of the Maories. -Its young roots are excellent eating, being rather like asparagus, -and reasonably nourishing when nothing better can be had--and the -white-flowered tea-tree--one of the tree-heath family---has often -furnished a “colourable imitation” of China tea, to the benighted -bush-wanderer run out of the genuine leaf. This bush about us is all -Maori land. Maories alone can find their way easily and safely through -its pathless mysteries. No, there is no avoiding the Maori, anywhere in -the North Island! - -Dinner, warm and grateful and unspeakably comforting, is met with at -a little inn in a little settlement whose name (of course) begins with -Wai. The towns in North New Zealand that do not begin with Wai begin -with Roto. There are a few others, but they hardly count. We are all -amazingly cheerful when we issue forth warmed and fed; and the cold -wind that is beginning to blow down from the icy mountain peaks just -out of sight, is encountered’ without any British-tourist grumbling. -The driver explains that the wind ought not to be so cold--never is -in December (the New Zealand June); but somehow, this is “a most -exceptional season,” and there has been a lot of rain and cold that they -don’t generally have. Across twelve thousand miles of sea my mind leaps -back to home; I feel the raspy air of the English spring nipping my -face, and hear the familiar music of the sweet old English lie about -the weather. It is a dear home-like lie, and makes me feel that New -Zealand is indeed what it claims to be--the Britain of the Southern -Cross. - -The effect of dinner is wearing off, and the insides are saying things -about the weather that make a lonely wanderer like myself long to clasp -the speakers warmly by the hand--because they sound so English. Now I -understand what puzzled me a good deal at first--the difference between -the Americanised, Continentalised Australians and the perfectly British -New Zealander. The Briton cannot retain his peculiar characteristic in -a climate like that of Australia; deprived of his natural and national -grumble about the changeable weather, he is like a dog without a -bark--an utterly anomalous being, But the New Zealand climate is windy -and showery, given to casting autumn in the lap of spring and throwing -winter into the warm, unexpecting arms of summer. So the Briton of the -South, settled among his familiar weather “samples,” remains like the -Briton of the North; and the travelling Englishman or Englishwoman, -visiting New Zealand, feels more entirely at home than in any other -quarter of the globe. It is only fair to New Zealand, however, to add -that the average summer, beginning in December, is at worst very much -warmer and pleasanter than the English spring or winter, and at best, a -season of real delight. - -Late and dark and cold is the evening when we rattle up to the -accommodation house planted in a strange desert spot, where the night is -to be passed. Another coach comes in and discharges its load by-and-by. -The Dickensonian flavour increases, as we of the earlier coach sit round -the great ingle-nook fire of blazing logs in the coffee-room, silently -surveying the new comers, while they shed their many wraps and crowd -about the blaze. To how many Early Victorian tales--Dickens, Bulwer -Lytton, G. P. R. James--have not the lonely inn and the late arriving -guest been the familiar commencement! - -But the three Maories, man and two women, alighting from the coach -and taking their place in the warm room, break through the illusion -of Victorian romance at a touch, as a passing figure breaks through a -gossamer cobweb stretched across a furzy path. Even G. P. R. could have -had no dealings with those tall bundled-up, black-eyed, self-possessed -beings from the bush. He would have turned them out in despair, -or turned himself out, and gone back to his mysterious, -Spanish-complexioned gentlemen in furred riding-cloaks. - -A nipping early morning sees us off at seven o’clock; the discontented -innkeeper, with (apparently) a dark crime on his conscience, seeing -us go with obvious relief. It is too evident that like rather many -backwoods hotelkeepers, he regards the harmless necessary traveller in -the unflattering light of “the pig that pays the rint.” - -Ruapehu’s giant cone, covered with dazzling snow, soars 3,000 feet into -heaven above us. We are high up ourselves, for we pass the 4,000 foot -level later on, rather cold and cross, and inclined to regard the little -flag of hot smoke creeping out of the crest of Ngaurhoe, a smaller -volcano ahead, as the most desirable thing in nature. Brumbies (wild -horses) skim the plains below us, quick-moving little dots of black -against the buff-colour of river valleys and fiats of sand. “There’s a -fellow hunting those at present,” volunteers the driver--“catches and -breaks them, and gets thirty shillings apiece for them for youngsters to -ride to school. The kids must have something, you know, and the brumbies -are wiry little brutes.” - -No one walks on two legs in New Zealand, apparently. I recollect -a picture that the coach passed only yesterday evening--a man on -horseback, and two dogs, fetching home a cow and her calf from a pasture -a quarter of a mile away from the homestead. In England the whole outfit -of man, horse, and dogs would have been represented by one small child -with a pinafore and a stick. Other countries, other manners. - -One o’clock, forty-two miles out, with a stop for a fresh team; and we -now enter a valley where we are met by the strange sight of a puff of -steam rising from a bushy dell, and a little river that glides along -with smoky vapours curling up from its surface. We are in the hot-water -country at last; this is Tokaanu, and from here to Rotorua, ninety miles -away, the earth is dotted, every now and then, with boiling springs, -erupting geysers, hot lakes, and warm rivers. In all this country you -need never light a fire to cook, unless you choose; never heat water to -wash your pots and pans, or to bath yourself. The Maories, and many of -the whites, steam all their food instead of boiling or baking it; and as -for hot baths, an army might enjoy them all day long. - -The valley is warm and pleasant; Lake Taupo lies before us, thirty miles -long, wide and blue and beautiful as the sea, sentinelled by tall peaks -of dazzling white and purest turquoise, and all embroidered about the -shores with gold braiding of splendid _Planta Genista_ scattered in -groves and hedges of surpassing richness. Three hours in a tiny steamer -brings us, To the othér side; and here, the sights of the hot-water -country fairly begin. - -The Spa Hotel, at Taupo (where one passes the night and as many days as -one has time for), is a museum; an exhibition, and very-good joke, all -in itself. One might fairly describe it as hashed hotel, served up with -excellent sauce. You find bits of it lost in a wilderness of rose and -rhododendron, at the end of a garden path; half a dozen bedrooms, -run away all along among the honeysuckles to play hide-and-seek; -a drawing-room isolated like a lighthouse in a sea of greenery; a -dining-room that was once a Maori assembly-house, and is a miracle of -wildly grotesque carvings, representing, the weirdest of six-foot goblin -figures, eyed and toothed; with pearl-shell, and carved in the highest -of alto relievo, all down the walls. White sand pathways, run, between, -the various fragments of the hotel; a hot stream, breathing curly vapour -as it goes, meanders, about the grounds, captured here and there in deep -wooden ponds, under rustic roofs, or hemmed in by walls and concealing -trees, to make the most attractive of baths. There is sulphur, and soda -and free sulphuric acid in these, waters; one spring, welling up all -by itself, has iodine. For rheumatism, skin diseases, and many blood -diseases, these constantly running pools are almost a certain cure. It -seems a shocking waste of golden opportunities to let this chance go by -without being healed of something; but I can only collect, a cold in the -head, a grazed ankle, and a cracked lip, to meet the occasion--of all -which evils the baths at once relieve me, offering in their place -an appetite which must seriously impair my popularity with the -proprietress, though I am bound to say she hides her feelings nobly. - -There is a celebrated “porridge pot,” or mud volcano, near this hotel. -I have not time to see it; therefore I leave it with gentle reproaches -ringing in my ears, and hints to the effect that I shall be haunted on -my deathbed by unavailing regret. But I meet the Waikato River directly -after, and at once forget everything else. Never anywhere on this earth, -except in the hues of a peacock’s breast shining in the sun, have I -seen such a marvellous blue-green colour as that of this deep, gem-like, -splendid stream. And the golden broom on its banks, the golden broom -on the heights, the golden broom everywhere--bushes eight and ten feet -high, all one molten flame of burning colour, with never a leaf to be -seen under the conflagration of riotous blossom--what is the English -broom, or the English gorse, compared to this? - -All the six miles to Wairakei, we follow the Waikato River; watch it -sink into a deep green gorge; break into splendid foam and spray down -a magnificent fall, that alone might make the fortune of any hotel in a -less richly dowered country; wind underneath colossal tree-clad cliffs, -in coils and streaks of the strange emerald-blue that is the glory of -the river, and finally bend away towards the Arateatea Rapids. Another -hotel built after the charming fashion of the Taupo hostelry, receives -the coach occupants. The style of architecture sets one thinking. -Where, twenty years ago, did out-of-the-way New Zealand light upon the -“pavilion” system, that is the very latest fancy of all modern-built -sanatoria? Has the liability to occasional small earthquake tremors -anything to do with it? Whatever the cause may be, the result is that -the fresh-air system is in full swing in nearly all the New Zealand -thermal resorts; that doors and windows are always open, paths take the -place of passages, and everybody acquires the complexion of a milkmaid -and the appetite of a second-mate. - -The hot outdoor swimming bath is a toy with which one really cannot stop -playing. It is something so new and so amusing to dive into a bath 90 -feet long and 102 deg. Fahrenheit as to heat; swim about like marigolds -in broth, in a temperature that would cook an egg in a few minutes, and -all the time see the exquisite weeping willows wave overhead, the tall -grasses stand on the bank, the wild clematis tremble in the trees above -the pool. After the hot dip, one steps over a partition into another -bathful of cool spring water, only 68° in heat, to cool down; and then -comes dressing in a little bath-box (shut off from the grounds, like all -the bath, by a high board fence), followed by a two minutes’ walk back -to the house. But again, when night comes on, and the moon silvers the -weeping willows to the semblance of pale frost-foliage on an icy pane, -and the dim wraith-like vapours of the pool float up in ghostly shapes -and shadows about the darkness of the inner boughs, one is tempted to -come down once more, gliding hurriedly through the chill night air to -the pool, locking the door, and floating for an hour or more in the -dim, warm, drowsy waters. Cold? No one ever gets cold from the thermal -waters, even if the cool dip is left out. That is one of their chiefest -charms. - -With the morning, I am informed that life will not be worth living to me -any more, if I do not see the Geyser Canon. Some one declares that it -is the most beautiful sight in New Zealand; some one else says that it -frightens you most delightfully, in the safest possible way; and “one -low churl, compact of thankless earth,” says that it is extremely -instructive. This last calumny I must at once deny. Interesting, to the -deepest degree, the Wairakei Geysers are; suggestive also beyond any -other geological phenomena in New Zealand; but instructive, after the -tedious scientific-evenings fashion of our childhood, they are not. They -are too beautiful for that, and too fascinating. One ought, no doubt, -to absorb a great deal of geological information during the tour of the -valley, but one is so busy having a good time that one doesn’t. Which is -exactly as it should be. - -Coming round the corner of the path that leads to the geysers, one sees -a column of white steam rising over the shoulder of the hill, among the -greenery of tea-tree and willow, exactly like the blowing-off steam of -some railway engine, waiting at a station. It is indeed an engine that -is blowing off steam; but the engine is rather a big one--nothing less, -indeed, than that admirable piece of work, Mother Earth herself. Ingle, -the guide, now comes out of a tin-roofed cottage at the entrance to the -valley, and starts to show us the wonders of the place. - -Now be it known that Mr. Ingle is a very remarkable character, and -second only to the geysers themselves, as a phenomenon of singular -interest. He is one of the very few men in the world who know all about -geysers, and quite the only one who can literally handle and work’ them. -Ingle knows how to doctor a sick geyser as well as any stableman can -doctor a horse; he can induce it to erupt, keep it from doing so, or -make it erupt after his fashion, and not after its own. He is the author -of at least two scientific discoveries of some importance, combining -the effects of steam pressure on rocks and the incidence of volcanoes -along certain thermal lines. In fact, what Ingle does not know about the -interior of the earth, and the doings down there, is not worth knowing; -and he tells us much of it as he takes us over the canon. Instructive? -Certainly not. It is all gossip about volcanoes and geysers--personal, -interesting, slightly scandalous gossip (because the behaviour of -some of them, at times, and the tempers they exhibit, _are_ simply -scandalous); but not “instructive”; assuredly not. - -The average tourist likes to have every sight named--romantically or -comically named, if possible--and his tastes have been fully considered -in the Geyser Canon. I am not going to quote the guide-book titles of -the dozen or two thermal wonders exhibited by Ingle. Staircases of -pink silica, with hot water running down them; boiling pools of white -fuller’s earth, with miniature volcanoes and geysers pock-marked all -over them: sapphire-coloured ponds, where one can see fifty feet of -scalding depths; the great Wairakei Geyser, casting up huge fountains of -boiling steam and spray every seven minutes; twin geysers living in one -pool of exquisite creamy stalactites, and erupting every four minutes -with the punctuality of a watch; geysers that throb exactly like the -paddles of a steamer, or beat like the pulse of an engine; geysers -that throw up great white balls of steam through crystal funnels of hot -water; geysers that cast themselves bodily out of their beds at regular -intervals, leaving you with exactly nine minutes in which to scramble -down the hot wet rock of the funnel, stagger through the blinding steam -that rises from the rents and fissures at the bottom, and climb up the -other side again, into coolness and safety, to wait and watch the -roaring water burst up through the rock once more; geysers that make -blue-green pools oh the lip of milky and ruddy terrace of carven silica; -that explode like watery cannon, in definite rows, one after another; -that build themselves nests like birds, send boiling streams under -rustic bridges, scatter hot spray and steam over’ richly drooping ferns, -and plant rainbow haloes on a scalding cloud of mist, high above the -clustering trees of the valley--these are the sights of the canon, and -they need no childish names to make them interesting. When a visitor -gets into the Geyser Canon he is like a fly in a spider’s web. He -cannot get away from this colossal variety entertainment. He runs from a -nine-minute geyser to see a four-minute geyser do its little “turn,” and -by this time the number is up for the seven-minute performance of the -great star, so he hurries there; and after that he must just go back -and see the twin geysers do another four-minute trick, and then there is -quite another, which will do a splendid “turn” in twenty-seven minutes’ -time, if he only waits--and so half a day is gone, without any -one noticing the flight of time, until the sudden occurrence of a -“passionate vacancy,” not at all connected with the geysers or their -beds, informs the traveller that another meal-time has, unperceived, -come round. - -The Arateatea Rapids fill in the afternoon. From the high road where the -open coach stands waiting, down through a pretty woodland of greenery -and shadow and thick soundless moss, one follows a narrow pathway -towards an ever-increasing sound of rushing, tumbling, and thundering, -out, at last, on to a projecting point where one stands right over a -rocky canon filled almost to the brim with a smother of white rolling -foam, woven through with surprising lights of clear jade green and -trembling gold. And here, on the brink of this half-mile of rapids, over -the roaring water, I give it up. I do not attempt to describe it. When -you take a great river, exceptionally deep and swift, and throw it -over half a mile of sloping cliff, things are bound to happen that are -somewhat beyond the power of pen and ink to render. Who has ever read a -description of a waterfall, anywhere, written by any one that conveyed -an impression worth a rotten nut? Every one who goes to see Arateatea -must manufacture his own sensations on the spot. Sheer fright will -certainly be one of them; not at anything the innocent rapids are doing -to the beholder, but at the bare notion of what they might do, one foot -nearer--one step lower down--one---- Let me have a couple of trees to -hold on to, please. Thank you, that is better. - -Many years ago, a party of twenty Maories had a narrow escape from the -cruel embraces of snow-white Arateatea. They were canoeing on the upper -river; and, partly because the trout in the Waikato are the biggest -trout in the world, partly because some of the rowers had had too much -fun at a “tangi,” or wailing party, the night before, and were not very -clear-headed, they forgot to think of the current until it had them -fairly in its clutch, whirling them along only a mile or two above the -terrible rapids. They could not reach the shore, and they dared not -swim. One would have supposed that nothing could save them from being -beaten to pieces against the cruel rocks in the rapids--yet they escaped -that fate. - -They went over the Huka Falls, which come a mile or two above the rapids -(the Maories had forgotten all about that) and were decently drowned -instead. - -I am sorry that the above is not a better story; but the fact is, that -tourists are not very plentiful about Wairakei, and the natives have not -yet learned to invent the proper tourist tale. That is about the best -they can do as yet. - -It will hardly be credited, but there is not even a Lover’s Leap in the -whole valley; not a story of an obstinate father who got opportunely -boiled in a geyser, while his daughter eloped down a scalding river in a -motor-boat worked by the steam from the surface--nor a tale of a flying -criminal pursued by executioners, who leaped from side to side of a -gorge some thirty feet across and got away. This is certainly remiss of -the authorities; but I have no doubt the Government Tourist Department -would take the matter up, and supply the necessary fiction, if suitably -approached. - -[Illustration: 0470] - -In the meantime travellers must be satisfied with the rather bald and -uninteresting tale of a Maori maiden named Karapiti, who jumped into the -steam blow-hole bearing her name, because her _fiancé_ did not meet her -there on Sunday afternoon as arranged to take her to afternoon tea at -the Wairakei Hotel. At least, that is one version of the tale, and it is -quite enough for the Smith family from London, and other representative -tourists. - -“You should have given yourself more time.” - -“Whatever you are going to do later on, this place really requires at -least a week.” - -“You cannot possibly miss so-and-so, or this and that!” Such are -the reproaches that haunt the hasty traveller through the Hot-Water -Country--reproaches fully deserved in nearly every case, for very few -tourists who journey to New Zealand realise the amount of time that -should be spent in seeing the miracles of the volcanic zone, if nothing -really good is to be omitted. - -It results in an unsatisfactory compromise as a rule--some “sights” - being seen; many passed over. There is always something fascinating just -ahead, calling the traveller on, and something wonderful close at hand, -which demands the sacrifice of yet another day, before moving. Such a -superfluity of beautiful and wonderful sights can assuredly be found -nowhere else on earth. Iceland is far inferior; the famous Yellowstone -Park of America has only a stepmother’s helping of what might be New -Zealand’s “left-overs.” The lovely, lamented Pink and White Terraces -are by many supposed to have been the only great thermal wonder of the -country. This is so far from being the truth that only a good-sized -volume could fairly state the other side of the question. I have never -met any traveller through the thermal districts who had succeeded in -seeing everything of interest. All whom I saw were as hard at work as -the very coach-horses themselves--walking, driving, climbing, scrambling -each hour of every day, and often thoroughly overdoing themselves, -in the plucky attempt to carry away as much as possible from this -over-richly spread banquet of Nature’s wonders. - -I squeezed out an afternoon for Karapiti (the “Devil’s Trumpet”) and -the Valley of the Coloured Lakes. By this time I was a little jaded with -sight-seeing, disposed to talk in a hold-cheap tone of anything that -was not absolutely amazing, and to taste all these weirdly impressive -marvels with a very discriminating palate. Karapiti, however, is cayenne -to any jaded taste. It is known as the “Safety-Valve of New Zealand,” - and the term is peculiarly fitting. The whole of the Hot-Water Country -is only one plank removed from the infernal regions; it almost floats -upon the scalding brow of molten rock, liquid mineral, and vaporised -water, that composes the earth interior immediately below. That it -is perfectly safe to live in (a constant wonder to outsiders) is very -largely due to just those steam blow-holes and geysers which excite the -fears of the nervous-minded--and the colossal dragon-throat of Karapiti -is the most important safety-valve of all. - -Walking up the hill’ to the blow-hole, many hundred yards off, one hears -its loud unvarying roar, like the steam-thunder that comes from an ocean -liner’s huge funnel, when the ship is ready to cast loose from shore. -The ground as one gets nearer is jutted and uneven, and perceptibly warm -in certain spots. Rounding a corner, one comes suddenly upon the Devil’s -Trumpet, a funnel-shaped opening, ten feet across at the lip, in the -bottom of a cupshaped hollow. A fierce jet of steam rushes out from the -Trumpet, thick and white as a great marble column, and roaring horribly -as it comes forth. The pressure is no less than 180 lb. to one square -inch, and the rush of this gigantic waste-pipe never slackens or ceases, -night or day; nor has it done so within the memory of man. - -“If it did, I’d look for another situation pretty sharp, for it wouldn’t -be ’ealthy to stay around Wairakei no more,” observes one guide, who -is showing off the monster to us by throwing a kerosene can into the -jet, and catching it as it is violently flung back to him, many yards -away. “I can throw a penny the same,” he says, and does so, getting back -the coin promptly, a good deal hotter than it went in. - -One of the ladies of our party is nearly reduced to tears by the -sinister aspect, the menacing horror of the spot. She begs to be taken -away, because she knows she will dream about it. She does dream about -it; I know that, because I do myself, that night; and the dreams are -not nice. Still, I would face them again for another look at roaring -Karapiti. It is a wonder of wonders, a horror of horrors, unlike -anything else in the world. On the whole, I am glad of that last fact. -Too much Karapiti would certainly get on one’s nerves. - -There have never been any accidents to travellers here. No one could -fall down the hole, because the funnel narrows rapidly, and is only -about two feet across in the inner part. All the same, one cannot safely -approach very near, for there is an in-rush as well as an out-rush, -and if any one did fall victim to it, and stumble into the funnel, the -highly condensed steam would strip the flesh from his bones as quickly -as a cherry is shelled off its stone. - -The Valley of the Coloured Lakes came next. I wonder what the -inhabitants of Brighton or Bath would do--how they would advertise, how -they would cry for visitors--if they had a valley at their very -gates which contained a scalding hot river, tumbling over pink and -cream-coloured cascades of china-like silica, in clouds of steamy -spray--a great round pond, set deep in richest forest, and coloured -vivid orange, with red rocks round the brim; another, crude Reckitt’s -blue; another, staring verdigris green; another, raspberry pink; others -still, yellow as custard and white as starch! All these ponds are hot; -they are coloured by the various minerals they hold In solution, but -they have not yet been chemically analysed, so it is only possible -to speculate as to the exact cause of the colours. Seen from a height -above, the ponds resemble nothing so much as a number of paint-pots; -and that, indeed, is one of the names by which the valley is generally -known. - -Leaving behind me, unlooked at, still more than I had seen, I took coach -again next morning for Rotorua. It was an early and a chilly start, for -we had over thirty miles to do before lunch. The light, springy coach, -with its leather-curtain sides, was filled with a cheerful party, all -young, all enjoying themselves heartily, and all full of the genial good -spirits that come of much open air and a holiday frame of mind. _New_ -New Zealand at its best was represented there, much as Old New Zealand -was represented by the silent bearded men, with the lonely-looking eyes, -who travelled in the Pipiriki and Waiouru stages of the journey. - -How fast the spanking team swings in along the road! How lovely the -changing panorama of the encircling hills, now velvet-brown with rich -green dells and valleys, now far-off pansy-purple, now palest grey, -seamed with crimson streaks of hematite! The air is very clear to-day, -with that strange New Zealand clearness that changes every-distance to -sea-blue crystal, and pencils every shadow sharp and square. - -We have left the royal gold broom behind us; but the beautiful manuka -scrub of the valleys is in full blossom, exquisitely tipped and touched -with white lace-like blossoms. It is almost as if a heavy hoar-froat had -misted over every delicate green bough with finest touches of silver. -Arum lilies bloom in the ditches; the Maori flax, like tall iris leaves, -wanders wildly over hill and valley; great fields of Pampas grass wave -their creamy plumes over the shot green satin of thick-growing leaves. -Wild horses, as the coach goes by, look warily out from behind some -woody knoll, or canter away across the plains with their long-legged -foals. Some of them are fine creatures, too, worth catching and -breaking, and many are taken there from time to time. What a happy land, -where a man can go out and pick a fine horse in a mountain meadow, much -as you pick a daisy at home! - -Lunch-time befalls at another of the inevitable Wais--Waiotapu, this -time--and before the coach starts on the last stretch of eighteen -miles to Rotorua, I go across the road to see the only one of Waiotapu’s -sights for which I have time--the Champagne Pool and Alum Cliffs. - -These are to be found on a most extraordinary milk-coloured plain, which -looks exactly as if a careless giant had been mixing colours and trying -brushes on it, and left everything lying about. The rocks and heights, -the deep dells with boiling pools and grumbling geysers at the bottom, -the narrow pathways leading here and there, are spotted and streaked -with carmine, rose madder, scarlet, primrose, bright yellow, and amber. -The “Cliffs” are a succession of rocky heights composed of something -very like cream fondant, which is mostly alum. At their feet opens out -a fascinating succession of bays and inlets full of variously -coloured water, at which I can only glance as I pass. There are two -mustard-coloured pools, and one pale green, among them. Close at hand -the overflow from the Champagne Pool rushes, steaming fiercely, over a -fall of rocks which appear to have been very newly and stickily painted -in palest primrose colour. Alum, sulphur, and hematite are responsible, -I am told, for most of these strange hues. Sulphur and arsenic have -coloured the Champagne Pool itself--a great green lake, almost boiling, -and of a most amazing colour--something between the green of a peridot -and that of Chartreuse. It has never been bottomed; the line ran out at -900 feet when tried. The edge of all the lake is most delicately wrought -into a coralline border of ornamental knobs and branches, canary yellow -in colour. Its name is derived from the curious effect produced in the -depths of the pond by a handful of sand. The water begins to cream and -froth at once, like champagne or lemonade, and continues to do so in -places for at least half an hour. - -[Illustration: 0476] - -And now we hurry back to the coach once more, and on to Rotorua, wonder -of wonders, and thermal temple of every healing water known to the -medical world. - -[Illustration: 0488] - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -_From Heaven to Hades--Gay Rotorua--Where One lives on a Pie crust--The -Birth of a River--Horrible Tikitere--In the Track of the Great -Eruption--Where are the Pink and White Terraces?--A Fountain fifteen -hundred feet high--Foolhardy Feat of a Guide--How the Tourists were -killed--A Maori Village--Soaping a Geyser--The End._ - -RED roofs and white verandahs; straight sandy streets of immense width, -planted with green trees, and spindling away into unnaturally bright -blue distances; omnibuses, phaetons, motor-cars, and four-in-hands -passing at long intervals towards the shining lakes that lie beside -the town; puffs of white steam rising up among green gardens and open -fields; a ring of amethyst-coloured hills surrounding the whole bright -scene, bathed in such a white, pure, crystalline sun as never shines on -misty England. That is Rotorua, a half-day’s journey from Auckland, and -the centre of the wonderful geyser region of New Zealand. - -Every one now-a-days knows that New Zealand possesses wonderful geysers, -but not quite everybody knows what a geyser is; and certainly very -few are aware of the extraordinary richness and variety of the geyser -country. Geysers are intermittent fountains of boiling water, in height -from a couple of feet up to fifteen hundred--the enormous altitude -reached by Waimangu the Terrible, greatest geyser of the whole world. -They consist of a shaft reaching down from the surface of the earth to -deep, very highly heated reservoirs of steam and boiling water below; -and (usually) of a siliceous basin surrounding the shaft-opening, -and full of hot water. Some geysers open in the centre of a cone of -siliceous sinter, built up by the deposits from the water, and have no -basin. - -[Illustration: 0492] - -The periodic explosions of active geysers are due to the following -facts--water under heavy pressure requires a much higher temperature -to boil than water free from pressure. While the water high up in the -geyser pipe may be a little under 212 degrees, that in the lower levels -may be standing at 50 or 60 degrees higher, and only kept from expanding -into steam by the weight of the column above it. If anything lessens -that weight or increases the temperature of the lower water, this latter -will explode into steam, and drive the upper waters high into air with -the force of its exit from the shaft. This, briefly, is the theory of -geyser action. - -Rotorua itself, the great focus of the healing forces of Nature in the -geyser district, is simply a crust over a mass of hot springs, charged -with various minerals. Three feet under earth you will find hot water, -in nearly any part of the town. There are hundreds of hot springs in the -neighbourhood that have never been analysed. Of the many that are in use -in the Government Sanatorium, the “Priest’s Water” and “Rachel Water” - are the most famous. The former cures rheumatism, gout, and blood -diseases, while “Rachel” makes her patrons “beautiful for ever” by -curing all forms of skin trouble, and bestowing a lovely complexion, not -to speak of the remarkable effects of the spring on nervous affections. -There are also wonderful hot swimming baths, much patronised by the -casual tourist; baths of hot volcanic mud, and baths of hot sulphur -vapour rising direct from the burning caverns under the earth. - -But for people who are in good health, it is the “sights” of Rotorua -that are the chief attractions, and these are very many. One of the -loveliest, and a welcome change from the countless hot-water springs, -is Hamurana, surely the most beautiful river source in the world. It is -reached by a journey across one of the lakes in a steamer. All the way -the great lake ripples purest turquoise under a high, clear, cloudless -sky; green islands rise bright and cool from its shining surface, -sharply peaked and shadowed mountains, on the distant shores, stand out -in strange hues of crystalline hyacinth unknown to our northern climes. -By-and-by the little steamer leaves us on a green wooded shore, and we -take boat up a fairy river to a region of enchanted beauty. Blossoming -trees line the sun-steeped banks; the water is of the strangest -colours--jade-green, clear molten sapphire, silver/ emerald, and -transparent as a great highway of rock crystal. Enormous trout, weighing -up to twenty pounds, rush from under our keel; grass-green and rose-red -water weeds quiver far beneath the oar. Wild fuchsias, wild cherries, -loaded with scarlet fruit, snowy-flowered tea-tree, arum lilies, yellow -broom, and pink dog-roses, hang out over the water. But a few hundred -yards, and the big lovely river comes to a sudden end, walled in -by blossoming bushes, and apparently cut short in the strangest’ of -culs-de-sac. In reality it is the source we have reached; here the whole -Hamurana stream springs full-grown from the earth. A great rift in the -bed of the glassy river is visible, where the water wells up under our -keel in wavering masses of amber, aquamarine, and deep blue, shot with -glancing arrows of prismatic light. Five million gallons are poured -forth from this deep cold cavern every twenty-four hours--each drop as -clear as a diamond, and as pure. The force of the upspringing stream -is so great that pennies can be thrown in from the boat without sinking, -to the bottom of the cavern--the water sends them back, and casts them -out into the shallows about the edge of the rift. Sometimes a small -silver coin will slip down into depths, and lie glittering many fathoms -below, magnified conspicuously by the transparent water. The Maori -natives, who are marvellous divers, have tried time and again to -reach-this tempting store of treasure; but no man can stem the uprushing -torrent of water, and if the coins were gold, they would be as safe -as they are now from being taken by human hands. The most determined -suicide could not drown himself in the Hamurana River source, for the -stream about the source is shallow, and the cavern water itself would -not permit him to sink, however willing he might be. - -The Valley of Tikitere, some ten miles from Rotorua, is the greatest -contrast that could possibly be conceived to Hamurana’s enchanted -loveliness. Enchanted indeed this valley also plight be, but by a spell -of evil. It is the nearest possible approach to the familiar conception -of hell. A stretch of white siliceous soil, streaked here and there with -the blood-coloured stains of hematite, or the livid yellow of sulphur, -is pitted all over with lakes, pools, and small deep pot-holes of -boiling mud, sometimes thick, sometimes thin, but always scalding, -bubbling, spirting, and threatening. Chief of all the horrors is the -well-named lake, “Gates of Hell.” Standing upon a bank of white earth -that is warm underfoot, and seamed with steaming cracks, one looks down -upon a ghastly hellhole of a seething cauldron, slimy black in colour, -and veiled with stinging mists that only now and then lift sufficiently -to show the hideous surface of the lake. The foul broth of which it is -composed bubbles and lifts ceaselessly, now and then rising into ominous -heights and waves that seem about to break upon the banks above. The -heat reaches our faces, as we stand half-stifled on the pathway. Just -beside us, a large pool of bubbling mud, which stands constantly at 2120 -Fahrenheit--ordinary boiling point--seems almost cool in comparison. -Little wonder that is so; for the “Gates of Hell” is largely composed of -sulphuric acid, and its surface temperature is 232°. - -[Illustration: 0463] - -Beyond lies a perfect wilderness of boiling mud-holes of every kind. -Here, there is a pond of mud as thick as porridge; there, one fluid as -cream. Here, the deadly, scalding surface lies innocently smooth and -unrippled; there, it leaps and thunders like a young volcano in action. - -At one corner we come suddenly upon an ugly black archway, leading to -no inviting interior; nothing can be seen within; but the loud gurglings -and chokings of the seething depths inside restrain any desire for -closer observation, “The Heavenly Twins,” derisively so-named, are two -boiling mud-lioles not a foot apart, but quite unconnected; one boils -the thickest of brews, while its twin concocts the thinnest. - -One must follow the guide closely and carefully about these ghastly -wonders. One step off the pathway, and a horrible death awaits the -careless walker. Even the path itself is only cool and solid on the -outside skin. The guide stops now and then to dig his stick into the -whitey-brown earth for a couple of inches, and turn up a clod all -glittering on the under-side with fresh crystals of sulphur. This -under-side is so hot that one can hardly touch it with the unprotected -hand. - -From one deep mud-hole, of a comparatively reasonable temperature, mud -is taken out for medical uses. It is wonderfully effective as a bath, -for soothing pain and curing sleeplessness. Further on, on safe ground, -one can see a hot waterfall about twenty feet high, in temperature about -100°, which is used as a douche bath by invalids of many kinds, with -remarkable results. - -On the edges of the valley, I see for the first time in detail exactly -how the “fumarole,” or steam blow-hole, is used for cooking purposes. -Over the opening of a small manageable blow-hole, an inch or two across, -is placed a box without a bottom. The food to be cooked is placed in the -box, either in a pot, or wrapped in leaves. The lid is then put on, and -covered with clay. In an hour or so the meat or stew is done to a -turn; and even if left too long, it cannot be burned. One blow-hole, -in constant use by the Maories, is not steam at all, but hot sulphur -vapour, which deposits a crust of sulphur on everything it touches. This -does not trouble the Maori, however; he eats his food quite contentedly, -with a strong sulphurous flavour added to its natural taste, and says -it does him good. Certainly, the natives living about Tikitere are -unusually strong and hearty in appearance, and never troubled with any -kind of illness. - -People of middle age will doubtless remember vividly the impression -created all over the world in 1886 by the eruption of the great volcano -Tarawera, and the destruction of New Zealand’s most cherished natural -wonder--the peerless Pink and White Terraces of Rotomahana. Count-, less -marvels have been left, and one new one that far outstrips the Terraces -in sheer wonder and magnificence--Waimangu, the greatest geyser in the -world; but New Zealand still laments her beautiful Terraces, and shows -the spot where they lie deep, buried under ninety feet of volcanic -débris, as though pointing out the grave of something loved and lost. - -A day of wonderful interest is that spent in seeing the track of the -great eruption. Leaving Rotorua early in the morning, I saw, as the -coach wound up the hilly road outside the town, many traces of that -awful night and day of darkness, thunder, and terror, eighteen years -ago. Although Rotorua is fifteen miles or more from the site of the -Terraces, the sky was dark all the day of the eruption, and only three -or four miles from the town black volcanic dust fell so densely as to -leave a stratum several inches thick over the country. This is clearly -visible in the cuttings at the side of the road, where the black stratum -can be seen underlying the more recent layer of ordinary soil. Where the -great coach-road to Rotomahana once ran, a chasm some sixty feet deep -scars the mountain side, caused by the fearful rush of water that took -place down the road-track. An earthquake crack, thirty feet deep, runs -close to the road for a long distance. All the way up to the buried -village of Wairoa, similar traces can be seen. But before the village -is reached, two gems of scenic loveliness are passed--the Blue and -Green Lakes, lying side by side, each enclosed by steep rugged hills, -reflected clearly on its glassy surface. One is of the strangest, most -delicate Sèvres blue--a colour, not depending on any reflection from -above, for I saw it on a grey and cloudy day--the other is a bright -verdigris green. “Chemicals in the water” is the very vague reason given -by inhabitants of the district for these remarkable beauties of colour. - -I must note here that in no case have I succeeded in obtaining any -satisfactory reason for the remarkable blues and greens so common in -both the cold and hot waters of the thermal district. The Waikato River, -a great cold stream, full of immense trout; Taupo Lake (cold); the -coloured lakes of Wairakei and Waiotapu (hot); Hamurana Springs (cold), -and many others, display these remarkable tints, under every sky and -in every depth of water. Varying reasons are given, but none seem -satisfactory. The beauty of the colouring is, at all events, certain, -and the cause may safely be left to geologists. - -Wairoa Village is now a green, silent waste of young forest and rich -grass, broken only by the ruins of the old hotel that stood there before -the eruption, and by a few scattered traces of other human occupation--a -fragment of wall, the rusty skeleton of an iron bedstead, lying in a -gully; the remains of a shattered buggy. In 1886 it occupied the place -now held by Rotorua, and was visited by numbers of tourists, all anxious -to see the Terraces, which lay not far away at the other end of the -chain of lakes now united in one, and called Rotomahana. On the day of -the eruption, the roof of the hotel was broken in by red-hot falling -stones and mud, and eleven people were killed. Some, who escaped, ran -out and took refuge in a native “warry” or hut, which, strange to say, -remained uninjured. Over a hundred people in all--mostly Maories--were -killed by the eruption, which destroyed millions of acres of good land, -swept away several native villages, and utterly altered the face of the -whole country. - -Lake Tarawera, which must be crossed to see the site of the lost -terraces, lies under the shadow of the great volcanic cone of Tarawera, -8,000 feet high, from which much of the molten rock and burning ashes -came. It is as lovely, in its own strange way, as the famous lakes of -Italy and Switzerland. The water is intensely blue, and the high hills -closing it in are of a colour unknown to most other scenery in the -world--a strange pale barren grey, so nearly white as to be slightly -suggestive of snow. Like snow, too, is the distribution of this coloured -matter; it lies on the crests and projections of the hills, and is -streaked thinly down the sides. It is ash, volcanic ash, cast out by -the surrounding craters on that fatal night of June, 1886, and lying -unchanged on the hills about the lake ever since. Tarawera itself towers -above the lake, grim and dark and ominous; a mountain hot yet tamed -by any means, and still hot, though not molten, in the interior of the -cone. - -On the shores of the lake, as the launch carries us past, can be seen, -at one spot, the whitened bones of some of the natives who perished in -the eruption. The name and titles of one, who was a great chief, are -painted on a rock that overhangs the shore. - -Rotomahana, the second lake, is also surrounded by ash-whitened hills. -At the far end, as our second oil-launch starts to cross, we can see -thick columns of steam rising against the grey of the cliffs. These are -the gravestones of the lost Pink Terrace; these tall pillars of cloud -alone mark the spot where one half of the world’s greatest wonder once -stood. Just where the launch starts, the White Terrace was buried, -under a hundred feet of earth and mud, deep in the bed of the lake. - -What were the Terraces like? New Zealand has many oil paintings of them, -so that a clear idea of their loveliness can be formed even to-day. -They consisted of two immense terraced slopes, formed by the action of -downward dropping hot water heavily loaded with silicon. Every terrace -was a succession of fairy-like baths and basins, filled with bright blue -water. One was pure ivory-white, the other, tinged with hematite, -was bright pink., The exquisite natural carvings and flutings of the -silicon, the beautiful tints of the terraces, the blue sky above and -blue lakes below, together formed a picture the like of which does not -exist on earth to-day. - -Our oil-launch, sailing now over water which is actually boiling, close -in shore, though the main body of the lake is cold, allows us to land on -the very spot where the Pink Terrace once stood. It is a dangerous task, -even with the aid of a guide, to pick one’s way about this stretch of -ground, for it is nothing but a crumbling honey-comb of boiling-water -ponds, and narrow ridges as brittle as piecrust. Over these latter we -take our perilous way, planting each footstep slowly and carefully, -but never standing still, for the ground is so exceedingly hot that the -soles of one’s boots are scorched, if planted long in one place. The -earth is choked and clouded with steam, the ponds roar and bubble about -our feet, the blow-holes rumble. The ground is full of raw cracks, old -and new, and as our small party steps over one of these, on the way -back, it is seen to be visibly wider than it was on the previous coming! -To-morrow the whole of this narrow ridge may have crumbled in and -disappeared. No one is sorry to reach the launch again, and glide away -from those threatening shores. - -A little further on, where we land for the walk up to Waimangu Geyser, -there is a hot iodine spring, unique among medical waters, and most -useful in many diseases. Arrangements are now being made to have the -water collected and sent to Rotorua; up to the present, it has only been -used by the Maories. - -All the three-mile walk up to the geyser is crowded with tokens of the -great eruption. Mud cliffs a hundred feet in height were created by the -terrible outburst, and for miles about the whole country was covered -yards deep with the boiling slimy mass. Not only Tarawera, but three -other craters (all visible in the high distance above the lake) were -erupting together, for a night and a day. The eruptions took place -without the least warning of any kind, about ten o’clock at night. The -chain of lakes about Tarawera’s foot suddenly exploded like colossal -bombs, blowing their entire contents, and all the mud from their -bottoms, over the whole country-side. Tarawera and the neighbouring -craters cast out huge jets of flame, and scattered burning masses of -rock, ashes, and scoriæ, for many miles. The noise was terrible, and the -sky for twenty miles around was dark at noonday. It is supposed that the -eruption was caused by the falling in of the lake bottom, which allowed -the water to drop into the underlying fires, and exploded the lakes -instantly into steam. - -Up a great earthquake chasm, among deep volcano craters that were formed -at the time of the eruption, we climb towards the Great Geyser. These -craters are for the most part still in a more or less heated state, -though grass and ferns grow in the interior of nearly all, and no -apprehension is felt as to future outbursts. One has a hot mudpool at -the bottom; a second spits steam from many cracks and blow-holes; a -third, the largest of all, erupted slightly in August 1904, and threw a -quantity of hot mud and stones out over the top. - -Waimangu Geyser itself, which is really more a volcano than a geyser, -is supposed to have been formed at the time of the eruption. It did not, -however, commence its present activity until 1900, when an enormously -high “shot” was seen by one or two explorers camping in the -neighbourhood, and the source at once investigated. It became apparent -that New Zealand, in the place of the lost Terraces, had acquired the -largest and most magnificent geyser in the whole world. The exchange is -by no means a bad one. Waimangu attracts hundreds of travellers to the -pretty little hotel planted on a cliff not far from the crater; and -those who have been fortunate enough to see the geyser play, one and -all utterly lose themselves in attempting to express the extraordinary -majesty, wonder, and terror of the sight. - -The geyser is somewhat irregular in action, but generally plays every -day or so. The water in the huge basin heaves and lifts; then an -enormous cloud of steam rushes up, and then a column of black water, -charged with mud and stones, flings itself upward in repeated leaps or -“shots” through the steam, to an almost incredible height--at times as -high as fifteen hundred feet. More than a quarter of a mile in sheer -height is Waimangu’s biggest “shot.” On such occasions, the sky is -darkened by the tremendous spread of the leaping waters, the earth -trembles with the concussion, and the watching spectators, perched high -above the crater by the shelter hut, feel as though the terrors of the -Last Day itself were falling upon them, unprepared. - -In the summer of 1903 two girls and a guide were killed during the -explosion of the geyser. The girls had been repeatedly warned, even -entreated, not to stand near the crater, as it was momentarily expected -to “play”; but they hovered close by the verge, anxious to secure a -photograph. Without warning, Waimangu suddenly rose and hurled itself -bodily skyward out of its bed. The enormous backfall of the boiling -water caught and swept away the luckless three, and they were carried -down the outflow valley in the flood that succeeds every eruption. When -found, the bodies were terribly mutilated, and stripped of all clothing. -The mother of the girls, standing higher up, saw the whole awful -disaster, and had to be forcibly held back from rushing into the crater, -in a wild effort to save her children. Since that melancholy day, the -geyser basin has been railed off, in such a manner that no one can -approach near enough to incur the slightest danger. Warbrick, the head -guide of the district, was present, and nearly lost his life in a daring -attempt to save the girls and the guide, who was his own brother. He -rushed into the midst of the falling stones and water, to try and drag -the luckless victims back, but was too late to save them, and narrowly -escaped being carried away himself. - -Warbrick is the best-known guide in New Zealand, and a character -of considerable interest. He is a halfcaste Maori, decidedly more -intelligent than the average white man, and speaking English perfectly. -In company with a sailor, he lately made what was probably the most -daring boat-trip ever attempted on earth--nothing less than a voyage -over Waimangu’s boiling basin, undertaken with the object of sounding -the depths of the geyser. The monster often erupts without the least -warning, sending the whole contents of its huge basin bodily skyward; so -that the feat was one likely to shake the strongest nerve. Warbrick took -a lead line with him, and noted the various depths of the crater basin. -In the centre, where the great throat of the geyser opens up, no bottom -could be found. The boat came safely to shore, after some minutes spent, -in performing one of the most perilous feats ever attempted, even by a -Maori. - -Visitors generally stay at the Government accommodation house near the -geyser for a day or two, on the chance of seeing a good “shot,” and they -seldom go away unrewarded. It is well worth while to cut short one’s -stay in some other place by a couple of days, to have a chance of seeing -the world’s greatest thermal wonder in full action, for Waimangu, when -playing, is the sight of a lifetime. I was not fortunate enough to see -the geyser in action, as it was undergoing a period of “sulks” at the -time of my visit; but if it had been playing as it played some weeks -after I left, nothing would have tempted me away from its neighbourhood -until I had seen an eruption. - -One, of the great charms of the geyser country about Rotorua is its -absolute unlikeness to anything that can be found on the other side of -the Line. To the much-travelled wanderer, nearly all famous show-places, -after a time, display a distressing similarity. The two or three leading -types of peasant to be found on the Continent of Europe, grow familiar -by-and-by. Giuseppe of Italy is not very novel to the traveller who -still remembers Ignacio of Spain; German Wilhelm recalls Dutch -Jan; Belgian Françoise is sister to French Mathilde. As for the -“sights”--well, one waterfall is very like another, and lakes and ruined -castles pall, taken in bulk. Even if the traveller wanders further -away, he does not find much in Egypt, India, or Japan, that has not been -greatly spoiled for him beforehand, by the countless descriptions he -has heard and read ever since childhood. It seems almost as though the -illimitable flood of sight-seers, past and present, rushing through all -the famous beauty-spots of the old world, had washed away something of -their charm--as if the air about such places were drained dry of the -ozone of fresh delight which every lovely and wonderful spot should -give, leaving only an atmosphere of feeling that is stale and used-up in -the last degree. - -New Zealand’s “sights,” however, are (to vary the metaphor) new gems in -a new setting. Not even the most experienced traveller can look on the -wonders of the thermal region with an eye dulled and indifferent by -other experiences, since there is hardly anything similar the whole -world over. And the setting of the gems---the strange, unfamiliar -country, oddly reversed seasons, and wild brown Maori folk, taking the -place of European peasantry, is perhaps the greatest charm of all. - -For myself, the carefully revived native dances of the Maories, -performed for money, in civilised concert halls the “haka” or war -dance, done by children on the roads for pennies, and the modern native -carvings, done with English tools, which are all among the most striking -features of daily life in Rotorua, were not the real attractions of the -place. Those lay in the common features of ordinary Maori existence, -seen here, there, and everywhere, without pose or preparation. When one -strolls out along the country roads near the town, it is an adventure to -meet a party of wild-eyed, brown-faced men and women, galloping madly up -and down hill on their rough “brumbies” (wild-horses, broken in)--both -sexes alike wrapped in heavy blankets, and sitting astride. Wandering -about on a bicycle, it pleasantly increases the “go-abroady” feeling -that most travellers welcome, to coma upon a woman taking a fat fowl out -of the steam-hole cooker, that Nature has provided just at the door -of her thatch-roofed, reed-built “warry,” and to stop and talk for an -interesting quarter of an hour with a barefooted, half-clad savage, who -speaks English as good as one’s own, reads the daily papers and has his -opinions on Mr. Seddon’s fiscal policy. The Maori guides and hangers on, -about the best-known sights, are naturally more or less spoiled by the -visitors. But the real Maori, of whom one gets an occasional sight, even -about such a civilised town as Rotorua, is attractive enough to make -one fully understand the strong regard that most New Zealanders have -for their native friends. Dignity, pride, and the manners of an exiled -royalty are his natural heritage. His mind is as keen as the white, -man’s, though perhaps somewhat narrower in scope; he has a vivid sense -of humour, strong feelings about honour and faithfulness, the courage of -a bull-dog, and the reckless daring of an Irish dragoon. Worth knowing, -and well worth liking when known, are the brown men and women of North -New Zealand. - -The little village of Ohinemutu, less than a mile from Rotorua, is -astonishingly Maori still, in spite of the development of the district -for tourist travel. Go down towards the shores of the lake at the back -of the big hotel, and you step at once into a native “pah,” built in the -haphazard fashion peculiar to Maori settlements. There are no streets, -and no definite beginnings or endings. The houses face every way, and -are of many fashions; here a reed-built warry, there a house with a -front splendidly carved and painted in old native fashion, further on -a wooden dwelling about as large as a bathing-box, with a full-sized -bay-window fastened on to it. Most are wooden huts with iron roofs--a -compromise between native and European styles. - -Everywhere one goes, there are steaming pools with newly washed clothes -drying on the edge, or small brown bodies happily disporting themselves -in the water. Cooking-boxes are erected over countless steam-holes; -and every here and there, one meets a tall brown man or woman, looking -extremely clean and damp, and wrapped in a big coloured blanket and -nothing else, stalking house-wards from a refreshing bath. Try to take -a photograph, and if the Maori is accustomed to tourists, he will ask a -shilling for the labour of posing; but if he has recently come down from -the wilds, and is still unspoiled, he will reject an offer of coin with -quiet dignity. Taken as nature made him, the Maori is not greedy of -money. It is only a very few months since the Maories of the King -country (a wild, half-claimed district in the “back blocks”) have -allowed gold prospectors to pass through their lands. Until recently -they admitted tourists and sportsmen freely, but refused to allow any -one to look for gold, giving as a reason their belief, that the finding -of gold did no country any good. - -Whakarewarewa, a couple of miles outside the town of Rotorua, has a very -interesting model of a typical Maori fortified “pah,” lately completed -by the Government. The large space of grass enclosed by the fort is -guarded by high earth breastworks and a deep ditch. Beyond the ditch is -an open wooden paling, apparently more for ornament than use, on which -are placed at intervals carved wooden figures of a threatening and -terrifying character. All of them are native work, but of modern date. - -The geysers of Whakarewarewa are many and famous. The most famous of all -was the great twin geyser Waikite, whose double throat opens at the top -of a high terraced cone, built up of siliceous sinter, deposited by -the geyser water during long ages of action. Waikite has ceased to play -since 1886, when the railway from Auckland to Rotorua was completed. On -the day when the line was opened for traffic, the geyser ceased playing, -and its fountains have never ascended since. - -Wairoa (Maori, “Long Water”) is now the lion of Whakarewarewa. It -plays very seldom of its own accord, but on special occasions the local -authorities permit it to be dosed with soap, which always produces an -eruption. A geyser constantly physicked in this manner often gives up -playing altogether in the end; so careful restrictions hedge round -the operation, in the case of Wairoa. It is first necessary to procure -consent from the Government Tourist Department in Wellington, and then -to arrange a day and give notice to the town. The Government authorities -in Wellington were kind enough to send an order to Rotorua to have -Wairoa soaped for me during my stay; and I took advantage of the -opportunity to enjoy the novel sensation of starting the geyser myself. - -On a Sunday afternoon of December 1904, all Rotorua assembled in a black -crowd at “Whaka” to see Wairoa play. Rows of cameras were placed upon -the hillocks commanding the spot; bets were freely made about the height -and quality of the coming performance, and every one scuffled politely -for a front place when the ceremony began. The caretaker of the grounds -and the head guide solemnly removed the wooden cover (pierced to allow -the escape of steam) which is padlocked over the geyser’s stony lips, -and handed me a bag containing three bars of soap, cut up into small -pieces. I stood on the edge of the geyser-mouth, looking down a great -black well full of steam, and rumbling with deep, groaning murmurs from -below, until the guide gave the word, and then emptied the bag down -Wairoa’s throat. - -[Illustration: 501] - -Almost immediately, white lather began to form in the depths of the -well, and rose rapidly to the verge. The guide now ordered me away from -the geyser; for, although Wairoa generally takes some minutes to play -after being soaped, one can never be absolutely certain that it will -not respond with inconvenient swiftness. I went back to a neighbouring -hillock from which an excellent view could be obtained, and waited with -the eager crowd. Every now and then a small rush of water lifted over -the geyser rim, and once or twice the fountain seemed about to start; -but it was not until seventeen minutes after I had put in the soap -that Wairoa choked, gurgled, and finally broke into a roar like a -ten thousand ton liner throwing off steam. In another instant, still -roaring, the geyser shot up silvery white water, dissolving at the top, -full 140 feet above ground, into a crest of delicate streamy feathers -all sparkling in the sun. The display lasted about a couple of minutes, -and then sank gradually away; but for long afterwards, Wairoa mumbled -and grumbled and frothed at the mouth, not settling down into quiet for -at least an hour. - -Of Auckland--“last, loneliest, loveliest, exquisite, apart,” as Kipling -has called it--thus compelling all later travellers to see, or at least -pretend to see, exquisite loveliness in prosaic Queen Street, and go -a-hunting for poetic solitudes along the quays--I have nothing to say. -Great ports are all alike, the wide world over, and hotel is as like -unto hotel as pebble unto pebble. And when the story is done, why -linger? - -I have set forth to tell something of Britain of the South Seas, and -such as it is, my say has been said. - - -THE END - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's In The Strange South Seas, by Beatrice Grimshaw - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN THE STRANGE SOUTH SEAS *** - -***** This file should be named 54499-0.txt or 54499-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/4/9/54499/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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