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diff --git a/old/62138-0.txt b/old/62138-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index edcb15f..0000000 --- a/old/62138-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4337 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cannibal-land, by Martin Johnson - -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: Cannibal-land - Adventures with a camera in the New Hebrides - -Author: Martin Johnson - -Release Date: May 15, 2020 [EBook #62138] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CANNIBAL-LAND *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -[Illustration: MEN OF ESPIRITU SANTO] - - - - - CANNIBAL-LAND - _Adventures with a Camera in the New Hebrides_ - - - BY - MARTIN JOHNSON - - WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM THE AUTHOR’S PHOTOGRAPHS - -[Illustration] - - BOSTON AND NEW YORK - HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY - The Riverside Press Cambridge - 1922 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY ASIA PUBLISHING COMPANY - COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY MARTIN JOHNSON - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - - - The Riverside Press - CAMBRIDGE · MASSACHUSETTS - PRINTED IN THE U. S. A. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CONTENTS - - - PROLOGUE 3 - - I. INTRODUCING NAGAPATE 6 - - II. SYDNEY AND NEW CALEDONIA 23 - - III. THE THRESHOLD OF CANNIBAL-LAND 39 - - IV. NAGAPATE COMES TO CALL 49 - - V. IN NAGAPATE’S KINGDOM 71 - - VI. THE BIG NUMBERS SEE THEMSELVES ON THE SCREEN 94 - - VII. THE NOBLE SAVAGE 100 - - VIII. GOOD-BYE TO NAGAPATE 116 - - IX. THE MONKEY PEOPLE 123 - - X. THE DANCE OF THE PAINTED SAVAGES 138 - - XI. TOMMAN AND THE HEAD-CURING ART 152 - - XII. THE WHITE MAN IN THE SOUTH SEAS 161 - - XIII. ESPIRITU SANTO AND A CANNIBAL FEAST 175 - - - - - ILLUSTRATIONS - - - MEN OF ESPIRITU SANTO _Frontispiece_ - - THE WATCHER OF TANEMAROU BAY 14 - - NAGAPATE 18 - - A BEACH SCENE 24 - - LOOKING SEAWARD 36 - - DANCE OF TETHLONG’S MEN 46 - - A CALL FROM NAGAPATE 62 - - THE SAFE BEACH TRAIL, TANEMAROU BAY 68 - - LOOKING OVER NAGAPATE’S KINGDOM FROM THE HIGHEST PEAK IN - NORTHERN MALEKULA 74 - - WOMEN OF THE BIG NUMBERS 78 - - RAMBI 84 - - ATREE AND NAGAPATE 88 - - HUNTING FOR THE MAGIC 98 - - A CANNIBAL AND A KODAK 98 - - NAGAPATE AMONG THE DEVIL-DEVILS 110 - - ONE OF THE MONKEY MEN 128 - - WO-BANG-AN-AR 134 - - SOUTHWEST BAY 138 - - WOMAN AND CHILD OF THE LONG-HEADS, TOMMAN 142 - - THE PAINTED DANCERS OF SOUTHWEST BAY 148 - - THE OLD HEAD-CURER 154 - - A CLUB-HOUSE IN TOMMAN WITH MUMMIED HEADS AND BODIES 158 - - TOMMAN WOMEN, SHOWING GAP IN TEETH 162 - - DWARFS OF ESPIRITU SANTO 182 - - THE CANNIBAL DANCE 188 - - - - - CANNIBAL-LAND - - - - - PROLOGUE - - -Twelve years ago, from the deck of the Snark, I had my first glimpse of -the New Hebrides. - -I was standing my trick at the wheel. Jack London and his wife, -Charmian, were beside me. It was just dawn. Slowly, out of the morning -mists, an island took shape. The little ship rose and sank on the -Pacific swell. The salt breeze ruffled my hair. I played my trick calmly -and in silence, but my heart beat fast at the sight of that bit of land -coming up like magic out of the gray water. - -For I knew that of all the groups in the South Seas, the New Hebrides -were held to be the wildest. They were inhabited by the fiercest of -cannibals. On many of the islands, white men had scarcely trod. Vast, -unknown areas remained to be explored. I thrilled at the thought of -facing danger in the haunts of savage men. - -I was young then. But my longing for adventure in primitive lands has -never left me. News of a wild country, of unvisited tribes, still -thrills me and makes me restless to be off in some old South Seas -schooner, seeing life as it was lived in Europe in the Stone Age and is -still lived in out-of-the-way corners of the earth that civilization has -overlooked. - -I have been luckier than most men. For my lifework has made my youthful -dreams come true. - -On my first voyage, in the Snark, I met with a couple of pioneer -motion-picture men, who were packing up the South Seas in films to take -back to Europe and America. They inspired in me the idea of making a -picture-record of the primitive, fast-dying black and brown peoples that -linger in remote spots. Into my boyish love of adventure there crept a -purpose that has kept me wandering and will keep me wandering until I -die. - -Two years ago, I again found myself in the New Hebrides at dawn. London -had taken the last long voyage alone; and the little Snark, so white and -pretty when we had sailed it south, hung sluggishly at anchor in Api, -black and stained, and wet and slimy under the bare feet of a crew of -blacks. My boat now was a twenty-eight-foot open whaleboat, with a jury -rig of jib and mainsail; my crew of five, squatting in the waist, -looking silently at us or casting glances, sometimes down at the water, -sometimes with sudden jerks of the head upward at the little mast, like -monkeys under a coconut tree, were naked savages from Vao; and my -companion, seated on the thwart beside me, was my wife, Osa. We were -nearing the cannibal island of Malekula. - -But to start the story of our adventures in Malekula at the beginning, I -must go back and describe the reconnoitering trip we took fourteen -months earlier. - - - - - CHAPTER I - INTRODUCING NAGAPATE - - -Osa and I were nearing the end of a long cruise through the South Seas. -We had come in contact with many wild peoples, but none of them were -quite wild enough. I had made motion-pictures of cannibals in the -Solomons. They were _bona-fide_ cannibals, fierce and naked. But -somehow, I never quite felt that they were the real thing: they so -obviously respected the English Government officers and native police -boys who accompanied and protected us. I wanted to get among savages who -were unspoiled—to make photographs showing them in their own villages, -engaged in their ordinary pursuits. I felt sure, from what I had seen -and heard and read, that the pictures I wanted were waiting to be taken -in the New Hebrides and nowhere else. - -Savagery has been pretty well eliminated from the South Seas. The -Solomon Islander is well on the road to becoming a respectable citizen -of the British Empire. Most of the Fiji Islanders have left off -cannibalism and have settled down and turned Methodist. If you except -New Guinea and Borneo, the New Hebrides are probably the only islands in -the Pacific where there are natives who live as they did before the -white man’s coming. - -The savages of the New Hebrides probably owe their immunity from -civilization to an accident of government. For many years the ownership -of the islands was disputed. Both British and French laid claim to them. -Neither would relinquish hold; so finally, they arranged to administer -the islands jointly until a settlement should be made. That settlement -has been pending for years. Meanwhile, both governments have been -marking time. Each party is slow to take action for fear of infringing -on the rights—or of working for the benefit—of the other. Each maintains -but a small armed force. The entire protection of the group consists of -about sixty or seventy police boys, backed up by the gunboats which make -occasional tours of the group. It is easy to understand that this is not -an adequate civilizing force for a part of the world where civilizing is -generally done at the point of a rifle, and that the savages of the more -inaccessible parts of the group are as unsubdued as they were in the -days of the early explorers. - -I had heard that there were parts of the island of Malekula, the second -largest island of the group, that no white man had ever trod, so I -decided that Malekula was the island I wanted to visit. “The Pacific -Islands Pilot,” which I had among my books, gave a solemn warning -against the people of Malekula that served only to whet my interest: - -“Although an appearance of friendly confidence will often tend to allay -their natural feeling of distrust, strangers would do well to maintain a -constant watchfulness and use every precaution against being taken by -surprise.” So said the “Pilot.” “... They are a wild, savage race and -have the reputation of being treacherous.... Cannibalism is still -occasionally practiced. Nearly all are armed with Snyders. The bushmen -live entirely among the hills in small villages and are seldom seen. -Being practically secure from punishment, they have not the same reasons -for good behavior that the salt-water men have, and should, therefore, -be always treated with caution.” - -A recruiter who had been for years in the New Hebrides enlisting blacks -for service in the Solomons described Malekula to me in detail. It was a -large island, as my map showed me, shaped roughly like an hour-glass, -about sixty miles long and about ten miles across in the middle and -thirty-five or so at the ends. He said that there were supposed to be -about forty thousand savages on the island, most of them hidden away in -the bush. The northern part of the island was shared between the Big -Numbers and the Small Numbers people, who took their names from the -_nambas_, the garment—if it could be called a garment—worn by the men. -In the case of the Small Numbers, said my informant, it was a twisted -leaf. In the case of the Big Numbers, it was a bunch of dried pandanus -fiber. The recruiter said that the central part of the island was -supposed to be inhabited by a race of nomads, though he himself had -never seen any one who had come in contact with them. In the southern -region lived a long-headed people, with skulls curiously deformed by -binding in infancy. - -Of all these peoples the Big Numbers were said to be the fiercest. Both -British and French had undertaken “armed administrations” in their -territory, in an attempt to pacify them, but had succeeded only in -sacrificing a man for every savage, they had killed. No white man had -ever established himself upon the territory of the Big Numbers and none -had ever crossed it. I decided to attempt the crossing myself and to -record the feat with my cameras. - -Every one to whom I mentioned this project advised me against it. I was -warned that experienced recruiters of labor for the white man’s sugar -and rubber plantations, who knew the islands and the natives well, never -landed upon the beach unless they had a second, “covering” boat with an -armed crew to protect them against treachery, and that the most daring -trader planned to stop there only for a day—though perforce he often -stayed for all eternity. But I had the courage born of ignorance, and -ventured boldly, taking it for granted that the tales told of the -savages were wildly exaggerated. Traders, missionaries, and Government -officials all joined in solemn warning against the undertaking, but as -none of them had ever seen a cannibal in action, I did not take their -advice seriously. When they found that I was determined in my course, -they gave me all the assistance in their power. - -My recruiter friend suggested that I make my headquarters on Vao, a -small island about a mile off the northeastern coast of Malekula, where -a mission station was maintained by the French fathers. He said that -between the mission and the British gunboat, which stopped there -regularly, the natives of Vao had become fairly peaceable, we would be -safe there, and at the same time would be in easy reach of Malekula. - -Osa and I lost no time in getting to Vao, where Father Prin, an aged -priest, welcomed us cordially, and set aside for us one of the three -rooms in his little stone house. Father Prin had kind, beautiful eyes -and a venerable beard. He looked like a saint, in his black cassock, and -when we had a chance to look about at the degenerate creatures among -whom he lived, we thought that he must, indeed, be one. He had spent -twenty-nine years in the South Seas. During the greater part of that -time he had worked among the four hundred savages of Vao. The net result -of his activities was a clearing, in which were a stone church and the -stone parsonage and the thatched huts of seventeen converts. The -converts themselves did not count for much, even in Father Prin’s eyes. -He had learned that the task of bringing the New Hebridean native out of -savagery was well-nigh hopeless. He knew that, once he had left his -little flock, it would undoubtedly lapse into heathenism. The faith and -perseverance he showed was a marvel to me. I shall always respect him -and the other missionaries who work among the natives of Vao and -Malekula for the grit they show in a losing fight. I have never seen a -native Christian on either of the islands—and I’ve never met any one who -has seen one! - -When he learned that we were bent on visiting Malekula, Father Prin -added his word of warning to the many that I had received. Though he -could speak many native languages, his English was limited to -_bêche-de-mer_, the pidgin English of the South Seas. In this grotesque -tongue, which consorted so strangely with his venerable appearance, he -told us that we would never trust ourselves among the natives if we had -any real understanding of their cruelty. He said he was convinced that -cannibalism was practiced right on Vao, though the natives, for fear of -the British gunboat, were careful not to be discovered. He cited -hair-raising incidents of poisonings and mutilations. He told us to look -around among the savages of Vao. We would discover very few if any old -folk, for the natives had the cruel custom of burying the aged alive. He -had done everything he could to eradicate this custom, but to no end. He -told us of one old woman whom he had exhumed three times, but who had -finally, in spite of his efforts, met a cruel death by suffocation. -Once, he had succeeded in rescuing an old man from death by the simple -expedient of carrying him off and putting him into a hut next to his own -house, where he could feed him and look after him. A few days after the -old man had been installed, a body of natives came to the clearing and -asked permission to examine him. They looked at his teeth to see if he -had grown valuable tusks; they fingered his rough, withered skin; they -felt his skinny limbs; they lifted his frail, helpless carcass in their -arms; and finally they burst into yells of laughter. They said the -missionary had been fooled—there was not a thing about the old man worth -saving! We could not look for mercy or consideration from such men as -these, said Father Prin. But despite his warning, Osa and I sailed away -to visit the grim island. - -With the assistance of Father Prin, we secured a twenty-eight-foot -whaleboat that belonged to a trader who made his headquarters on Vao, -but was now absent on a recruiting trip, leaving his “store” in charge -of his native wife. With the aid of five Vao boys, recommended by Father -Prin as being probably trustworthy, we hoisted a small jib and a -mainsail, scarcely larger, and were off. - -At the last moment, Father Prin’s grave face awoke misgivings in me and -I tried to dissuade Osa from accompanying me. Father Prin sensed the -drift of our conversation and made his final plea. - -“Better you stop along Vao,” he urged. “Bush too bad.” His eyes were -anxious. But Osa was not to be dissuaded. “If you go, I’m going, too,” -she said, turning to me, and that was final. - -We landed at a point on the Vao side of Malekula, where there were one -or two salt-water villages, whose inhabitants had learned to respect -gunboats. We picked up three boys to serve as guides and carriers and -then sailed on to Tanemarou Bay, in the Big Numbers territory. The -shores along which we traveled were rocky. Occasionally we saw a group -of natives on the beach, but they disappeared as we approached. These -were no salt-water savages, but fierce bushmen. Their appearance was not -reassuring; but when we reached Tanemarou Bay, we boldly went ashore. We -were greeted by a solitary savage who stepped out of the darkness of the -jungle into the glaring brightness of the beach. He was a frightful -object to behold, black and dirty, with heavy, lumpy muscles, and an -outstanding shock of greasy hair. Except for a clout of dried pandanus -fiber, a gorget of pig’s teeth, and the pigtails that dangled from his -ear-lobes, he was entirely naked. As he approached, we saw that his -dull, shifty eyes were liquid; his hairy, deeply seamed face was -contorted frightfully; and his hands were pressed tight against his -stomach. Osa shrank close to me. But the first words of the native, -uttered in almost unintelligible _bêche-de-mer_, were pacific enough. -“My word! Master! Belly belong me walk about too much!” - -[Illustration: THE WATCHER OF TANEMAROU BAY] - -The nervous tension that Osa and I had both felt snapped, and we burst -out laughing. I saw a chance to make a friend, so I fished out a handful -of cascara tablets and carefully explained to the native the exact -properties of the medicine. I made it perfectly clear—so I thought—that -part of the tablets were to be taken at dawn and part at sunset. He -listened with painful attention, but the moment I stopped speaking he -lifted the whole handful of pills to his slobbering lips and downed them -at a gulp! - -By this time we were surrounded by a group of savages, each as -terrible-looking as our first visitor. As they made no effort to molest -us, however, we gained confidence. I set up a camera and ground out -several hundred feet of film. They had never seen a motion-picture -camera before, but, as is often the way with savages, after a first -casual inspection, they showed a real, or pretended, indifference to -what they could not understand. - -Through the talented sufferer who knew _bêche-de-mer_, I learned that -the chief of the tribe, Nagapate, was a short distance away in the bush, -and on the spur of the moment, never thinking of danger, I made up my -mind to see him. Guided by a small boy, Osa and I plunged into the dark -jungle, followed by our three carriers with my photographic apparatus. -We slid and stumbled along a trail made treacherous by miry streams and -slimy creepers and up sharp slopes covered with tough canes. At last we -found ourselves in a clearing about three thousand feet above the sea. - -From where we stood we could see, like a little dot upon the blue of the -ocean, our whaleboat hanging offshore. The scene was calm and beautiful. -The brown-green slopes were silent, except for the sharp metallic calls -of birds. But we knew that there were men hidden in the wild, by the -faint, thin wisps of smoke that we could see here and there above the -trees. Each marked a savage camp-fire. “That’s where they’re cooking the -‘long pig,’” I said jocularly, pointing the smoke wisps out to Osa. But -a moment later my remark did not seem so funny. I heard a sound and -turned and saw standing in the trail four armed savages, with their guns -aimed at us. - -“Let’s get out of this,” I said to Osa; but when we attempted to go down -the trail, the savages intercepted us with threatening gestures. -Suddenly there burst into view the most frightful, yet finest type of -savage I have ever seen. We knew without being told that this was -Nagapate himself. His every gesture was chiefly. - -He was enormously tall, and his powerful muscles rippled under his skin, -glossy in the sunlight. He was very black; his features were large; his -expression showed strong will and the cunning and brutal power of a -predatory animal. A fringe of straight outstanding matted hair -completely encircled his face; his skin, though glossy and -healthy-looking, was creased and thick, and between his brows were two -extraordinarily deep furrows. On his fingers were four gold rings that -could only have come from the hands of his victims. - -I thought I might win this savage to friendliness, so I got out some -trade-stuff I had brought with me and presented it to him. He scarcely -glanced at it. He folded his arms on his breast and stared at us -speculatively. I looked around. From among the tall grasses of the -clearing, there peered black and cruel faces, all watching us in -silence. There were easily a hundred savages there. For the present -there was no escape possible. I decided that my only course was to -pretend a cool indifference, so I got out my cameras and worked as -rapidly as possible, talking to the savages and to Osa as if I were -completely at ease. - -I soon saw, however, that we must get away if we were not to be caught -by darkness. I made a last show of assurance by shaking hands in -farewell with Nagapate. Osa followed my example; but instead of -releasing her, the savage chief held her firmly with one hand and ran -the other over her body. He felt her cheeks and her hair and pinched and -prodded her speculatively. - -She was pale with fright. I would have shot the savage on the spot, but -I knew that such a foolhardy act would mean instant death to both of us. -I clenched my hands, forced to my lips what I hoped would pass for an -amused grin, and stood pat. After a moment that seemed to both Osa and -me an hour long, Nagapate released Osa and grunted an order at the -savages who surrounded us. They disappeared into the bush. This was our -opportunity. I ordered the three carriers to pick up the apparatus, and -we started for the trail. - -[Illustration: NAGAPATE] - -We had gone only a few steps when we were seized from behind. We had no -chance to struggle. - -In the minutes that followed, I suffered the most terrible mental -torture I have ever experienced. I saw only one slim chance for us. Osa -and I each carried two revolvers in our breeches’ pockets; so far, the -savages had not discovered them, and I hoped there might come some -opportunity to use them. Every ghastly tale I had ever heard came -crowding into my memory; and as I looked at the ring of black, merciless -faces, and saw my wife sagging, half-swooning, in the arms of her -cannibal captors, my heart almost stopped its beating. - -At this moment a miracle happened. - -Into the bay far below us steamed the Euphrosyne, the British -patrol-boat. It came to anchor and a ship’s boat was lowered. The -savages were startled. From lip to lip an English word was passed, -“Man-o’-war—Man-o’-war—Man-o’-war.” With an assumption of satisfaction -and confidence that I did not feel, I tried to make it clear to them -that this ship had come to protect us, though I knew that at any moment -it might up anchor and steam away again. Nagapate grunted an order, my -carriers picked up their loads, and we were permitted to start down the -trail. Once out of sight we began to run. The cane-grass cut our faces, -we slipped on the steep path, but still we ran. - -Halfway down, we came to an open place from which we could see the bay. -To our consternation, the patrol-boat was putting out to sea! We knew -that the savages, too, had witnessed its departure; for at once, from -hill to hill, sounded the vibrant roar of the conch-shell boo-boos—a -message to the savages on the beach to intercept us. - -The sun was near setting. We hurried forward; soon we found that we had -lost the trail. Darkness came down, and we struggled through the jungle -in a nightmare of fear. Thorns tore our clothing and our flesh. We -slipped and fell a hundred times. Every jungle sound filled us with -terror. - -But at last, after what seemed hours, we reached the beach. We stole -toward the water, hopeful of escaping notice, but the savages caught -sight of us. Fortunately our Vao boys, who had been lying off in the -whaleboat, sighted us, too, and poled rapidly in to our assistance. We -splashed into the surf and the boys dragged us into the boat, where we -lay, exhausted and weak with fear. - -It took us three days to get back to Vao, but that nightmare story of -storm and terror does not belong here. Suffice it to say that we at last -got back safely and with my film unharmed. - -On my return to Vao, one of the native boatmen presented me with a -letter, which had been left for me at Tanemarou Bay, by the commander of -the patrol-boat, who had been assured by our boys that we were in the -immediate vicinity of the beach and were about to return to the boat. - - MATANAVOT, _10th November, 1917_ - - DEAR SIR: - - I have been endeavoring to find you with a view to warning you - against carrying out what I understand to be your intentions. I am - told that you have decided to penetrate into the interior of this - island with a view to coming in contact with the people known as the - “Big Numbers.” Such a proceeding cannot but be attended with great - risk to yourself and all those who accompany you. The whole interior - of this island of Malekula is, and has been for a considerable time, - in a very disturbed condition, and it has been necessary in - consequence to make two armed demonstrations in the “Big Numbers” - country during the last three years. For these reasons, on the part - of the Joint Administration of this group, I request that you will - not proceed further with this idea, and hereby formally warn you - against such persistence, for the consequences of which the - Administration cannot hold itself responsible. - - Yours faithfully - (Signed) M. KING - _H.B.M. Resident Commissioner for the New Hebrides_ - - In any case I trust you will not take your wife into the danger zone - with you. - - M. K. - - - - - CHAPTER II - SYDNEY AND NEW CALEDONIA - - -Osa and I were sure, after our first adventure in Malekula, that we had -had enough of cannibals to last us for the rest of our natural lives. -But when we reached Sydney, on our way home, and had our films -developed, we began to weaken. Our pictures were so good that we almost -forgot the risk we had taken to get them. The few feet I had managed to -grind out on Malekula were no “staged” pictures of savage life. They -were so real and convincing that Osa declared her knees went wobbly -every time she saw them. - -Before many months, Nagapate was scowling out of the screen at audiences -in New York and Paris and London, and villagers who would never go a -hundred miles from home were meeting him face to face in the Malekula -jungle. The public wanted more—and so did we. Early in 1919, about a -year after our first adventure in the Malekula bush, we were again in -Sydney, preparing for a second visit to the land of the Big Numbers—the -trip out of which this book has grown. - -As we sailed into Sydney harbor on the S.S. Ventura, we met, sailing -out, the Pacifique, the little steamer of the Messageries Maritimes that -had taken us to the New Hebrides on our former visit. That meant we -should have four weeks to wait before embarking on our journey to -Malekula. We were impatient to be off, but we knew that the four weeks -would pass quickly enough, for many things remained to be done before we -should be ready for a long sojourn in the jungle. - -We took up our abode with the Higginses, in their house on Darling Point -Road overlooking the harbor. Ernie Higgins had handled my films for me -on my previous trip, and I had found him to be the best laboratory man I -had ever met with, so I was glad to be again associated with him. - -The house was an old-fashioned brick house of about twelve or fourteen -rooms. I fitted up one of the second-story rooms to serve as a workroom. -I had electricity brought in and set up my Pathéscope projector, so that -I could see the pictures I happened to be working on. Having this -projector meant that the work of cutting and assembling films would be -cut in two. I put up my rewinds, and soon had everything in apple-pie -order. - -[Illustration: A BEACH SCENE] - -From the window of my workroom, I could look over Sydney harbor. Osa and -I never tired of watching the ships going in and out. We would consult -the sailing lists in the newspapers, and try to identify the vessels -that we saw below us. There were steamers from China and Japan and the -Straits Settlements; little vessels from the various South Seas groups; -big, full-rigged ships from America; steamers from Africa and Europe; -little schooners from the islands; coastal boats to and from New Zealand -and Tasmania, and almost every day big ships came in with returned -soldiers. In the course of a week we saw boats of every description -flying the flags of almost every nation on the globe. - -Osa put in long days in the harbor, fishing from Mr. Higgins’s little -one-man dinghy, that was nearly swamped a dozen times a day in the wash -from the ferry-boats, while I worked like a slave at my motion-picture -apparatus. The public thinks that a wandering camera-man’s difficulties -begin with putting a roll of film in the camera and end with taking it -out. If I were telling the true story of this trip, I should start with -my grilling weeks of preparation in New York. But my troubles in Sydney -will perhaps give sufficient idea of the unromantic back-of-the-scenes -in the life of a motion-picture explorer. I had troubles by the score. -My cameras acted up. They scratched the film; they buckled. When I had -remedied these and a dozen other ailments, I found that my pictures were -not steady when they were projected. The fault we at last located in Mr. -Higgins’s printer. We repaired the printer. Then we found that the -developer produced a granulated effect on the film. It took us two weeks -to get the proper developer. But our troubles were not over. Great spots -came out on the pictures—grease in the developing tanks. And the racks -were so full of old chemicals that they spoiled the film that hung over -them. I had new racks and new tanks made. They were not made according -to specifications. I had them remade twice and then took them apart and -did the work myself. - -After I thought that my troubles were over, I found that my Pathéscope -projector, which had been made for standard film, had several parts -lacking. This was most serious, for it spoiled a plan that I had had in -the back of my head ever since I had first seen my Malekula pictures. I -wanted to show them to Nagapate and his men. It was an event that I had -looked forward to ever since I had decided to revisit the island. It -would be almost comparable to setting up a movie show in the Garden of -Eden. Luckily, I was able to have the missing parts made in Sydney, and -my apparatus was at last in order. - -Then I had to collect as much information as I could about the New -Hebrides and their inhabitants, so I trotted around morning after -morning, to interview traders and steamship officials and missionaries. -Another task, in which Osa helped me, was to ransack the second-hand -clothing stores for old hats and coats and vests to serve as presents -for the natives. Other trade-stuffs, such as tobacco, mirrors, knives, -hatchets, and bright-colored calico, I planned to get in Vila, the -principal port and capital of the New Hebrides. - -The four weeks had gone by like a flash, but the Pacifique had not yet -put in an appearance. She came limping into harbor at the end of another -week. She had been delayed by engine trouble and by quarantines; for the -influenza was raging through the South Seas. It was announced that she -would sail in five days, but the sailing date was postponed several -times, and it was the 18th of June before we finally lifted anchor. - -It seemed good to get out of the flu-infested city, where theaters and -schools and churches were closed, every one was forced to wear a mask, -and the population was in a blue funk. We both loved Sydney and its -hospitable people, but we were not sorry to see the pretty harbor, with -its green slopes dotted with red-tiled roofs, fade into the distance. - -Osa and I have often said that we like the Pacifique better than any -ship we have ever traveled on. It is a little steamer—only one thousand -nine hundred tons. We do not have bunks to sleep in, but comfortable -beds. Morning coffee is served from five to eleven o’clock. It is an -informal meal. Every one comes up for it in pajamas. Breakfast is at -half-past eleven. Dinner is ready at half-past six and lasts until -half-past eight. It is a leisurely meal, of course after course, with -red wine flowing plentifully. After dinner, the French officers play on -the piano and sing. - -Most of the officers were strangers to us on this voyage, for our old -friends were all down with the flu in Sydney. The doctor and the -wireless operator were both missing, and the captain, Eric de Catalano, -assumed their duties. He was a good wireless operator, for we got news -from New Zealand each night and were in communication with Nouméa long -before we sighted New Caledonia. How efficient he was as a doctor, I -cannot say. But he had a big medicine chest and made his round each day -among the sick, and though many of the passengers came down with -influenza, none of them died. He was a handsome man, quiet and -intelligent, and a fine photographer. He had several cameras and a -well-fitted dark room and an enlarging apparatus aboard, and had made -some of the best island pictures I had ever seen. He seemed to be a man -of many talents, for the chief engineer told me that he had an -electrician’s papers and could run the engines as well as he himself -could. - -We were a polyglot crowd aboard. We had fifteen first-class and five -second-class passengers, French, Australian, English, Scotch, and Irish, -and one Dane, with Osa and myself to represent America. In the steerage -were twenty-five Japanese, and up forward there was a Senegalese negro -being taken to the French convict settlement at Nouméa. Our officers -were all French—few could speak English. Our deck crew was composed of -_libérés_—ex-convicts from Nouméa. The cargo-handlers were native New -Caledonians with a sprinkling of Loyalty Islanders. The firemen were -Arabs, the dish-washers in the galley, New Hebrideans. The bath steward -was a Fiji Islander, the cabin steward a Hindu, the second-class cabin -steward hailed from the Molucca Islands, and our table steward was a -native of French Indo-China. - -Three days out from Sydney we passed Middleton Reef, a coral atoll, -about five miles long and two across, with the ocean breaking in foam on -its reef and the water of its lagoon as quiet as a millpond. The atoll -is barely above water, and many ships have gone aground there. We sailed -so close that I could have thrown a stone ashore, and saw the hull of a -big schooner on the reef. - -As we stood by the rail looking at her, one of our fellow-passengers, a -trader who knew the islands well, came up to us and told us her story. - -“She went ashore three years ago, in a big wind,” he said. “All hands -stuck to the ship until she broke in two. Then they managed to reach -land—captain and crew and the captain’s wife and two children. They had -some fresh water and a little food. They rationed the water carefully, -and there was rain. But the food soon gave out. For days they had -nothing. The crew went crazy with hunger, and killed one of the children -and ate it. For two days, the mother held the other child in her arms. -Then she threw it into the sea so that they could not eat it. Then three -of the men took one of the ship’s boats. They could not manage it in the -rough sea, but by a lucky chance they were washed up on the beach. They -were still alive, but the captain’s wife had lost her mind.” - -We reached Nouméa on the morning of June 23d. The pilot met us outside -the reef, in accordance with regulations, but he refused to come on -board when he found that we had several passengers down with the -influenza, so we towed him in. We were not allowed to land, but were -placed in quarantine off a small island about two miles from Nouméa, -between the leper settlement and Île Nou, the convict island. We were -avoided as though we had leprosy. Each day a launch came with fresh meat -and fresh vegetables, the French engineer and black crew all masked and -plainly anxious not to linger in our vicinity any longer than necessary, -and each day the doctor came and took our temperatures. - -We passed our time in fishing from the deck. We had excellent luck and -our catches made fine eating. Osa, of course, caught more fish than any -one else, principally because she was up at sunrise and did not quit -until it was time to go to bed. I relieved the monotony in the evenings -by showing my pictures. I set up the Pathéscope in the saloon, and each -night I gave a performance. My audience was most critical. Every one on -board knew the New Hebrides and Nouméa well, and many of the passengers -were familiar with the Solomons and other groups in which I had taken -pictures. But my projector worked finely; I had as good a show as could -be seen in any motion-picture house, and every one was satisfied. - -We had been surprised, as we steamed into the harbor, to see the -Euphrosyne lying at anchor there. The sight of her had made us realize -that we were indeed nearing the Big Numbers territory. Strangely enough, -the thought aroused no fear in us—only excitement and eagerness to get -to work, and resentment against the delay that kept us inactive in -Nouméa harbor. - -Not until four days had passed was our quarantine lifted. On the evening -of June 27th, the launch brought word that peace had been signed, and -that, if no more cases of flu had developed, we would be allowed to land -on the following day and take part in the peace celebration. - -New Caledonia does not much resemble the other islands of the South -Pacific. It has a white population of twenty thousand—about two thirds -as great as the native population. Its capital, Nouméa, is an industrial -city of fifteen thousand white inhabitants—the Chicago of the South -Seas. In and around it are nickel-smelters, meat-canneries, sugar-works, -tobacco and coconut-oil and soap factories. New Caledonia is rich in -minerals. It has large deposits of coal and kaolin, chrome and cobalt, -lead and antimony, mercury, cinnabar, silver, gold and copper and gypsum -and marble. In neighboring islands are rich guano beds. Agriculture has -not yet been crowded off the island by industry. The mountain slopes -make good grazing grounds and the fertile valleys are admirably fitted -for the production of coffee, cotton, maize, tobacco, copra, rubber, and -cereals. Yet there is little of South Seas romance about the islands. -And Nouméa is one of the ugliest, most depressing little towns on the -face of the earth. - -We docked there early on the morning of Saturday, the 28th of June. The -wharf was packed with people, but none of them would come on board. We -might have been a plague ship. As we went ashore, we looked for signs of -the peace celebration. A few half-hearted firecrackers and some flags -hanging limp in the heat were all. The real celebration, we were told, -would take place on Monday. - -In the evening, we were invited to attend one of those terrible -home-talent performances that I had thought were a product only of -Kansas, but, I now learned, were as deadly in the South Seas as in the -Middle West. A round little Frenchman read a paper in rapid French that -we could not understand, but the expression of polite interest on the -faces of the audience told us that it must be like the Fourth-of-July -orations in our home town. Then came a duet, by a man and woman who -could not sing. Another paper. Then an orchestra of three men and four -girls arranged themselves with much scraping of chairs on the funny -little stage and wheezed a few ancient tunes. - -On Sunday night we went to the Peace Ball in the town hall. Most of -Nouméa’s fifteen thousand inhabitants were there, so dancing was next to -impossible. It was like a Mack Sennet comedy ball. Ancient finery had -been hauled out for the occasion, and, though most of the men appeared -in full dress, scarcely one had evening clothes that really fitted. -Under the too loose and too tight coats, however, there were warm and -hospitable hearts, and we were treated royally. After the ball, we were -entertained at supper by the governor and his suite. - -Governor Joulia was a little, bald-headed man of about fifty years of -age, always smiling, always polite, and always dressed in the most -brilliant of brilliant uniforms, covered with decorations that he had -won during campaigns in Senegal, Algeria and India. His wife was a -pretty, plump woman of about thirty—she and Osa took to each other at -once. They spoke no English, and our French is awful, but we struck out -like drowning persons, and managed to understand each other after a -fashion. - -On Monday, the “real celebration” of the peace consisted in closing the -stores and sleeping most of the day. In the afternoon, the governor and -his wife came to the ship for us and took us to their beautiful summer -place, about five miles from the city. A great park, with deer feeding -under the trees, fine gardens, tennis courts, well-tended walks—and the -work all done by numbered convicts. - -There are convicts everywhere in and about Nouméa—convicts and -_libérés_. Their presence makes the ugly little town seem even more -unprepossessing than it is. The pleasantest spot anywhere around is Île -Nou, the convict island that I have often heard called a hell on earth. -On this green little island are about five hundred convicts—all old men, -for France has not deported any of her criminals to New Caledonia since -1897. They are all “lifers.” Indeed, I was told of one old man who is in -for two hundred years; he has tried to escape many times, and, according -to a rule of the settlement, ten years are added to a man’s sentence for -each attempt at escape. - -We visited Île Nou in company with Governor Joulia and Madame Joulia; -the Mayor of Nouméa; the manager of the big nickel mines; the Governor -of the prison settlement, and a lot of aides-de-something. We saw the -old prisoners, in big straw hats and burlap clothing, each with his -number stamped on his back, all busy doing nothing. We were taken -through the cells where, in former times, convicts slept on bare boards, -with their feet through leg-irons. We were locked in dark dungeons, and, -for the benefit of my camera, the guillotine was brought out and, with a -banana stalk to take the place of a man, the beheading ceremony was gone -through with. We were taken in carriages over the green hills to the -hospitals and to the insane asylum, where we saw poor old crazy men, -with vacant eyes, staring at the ceilings. Here we met the king of the -world, who received us with great pomp from behind the bars of a strong -iron cage, and a pitiful old inventor, who showed us a perpetual-motion -machine which he had just perfected. It was made from stale bread. - -[Illustration: LOOKING SEAWARD] - -Yet Île Nou is better than Nouméa, with its ugly streets full of broken -old _libérés_. While most of the convicts were sent out for life, some -were sent for five years. At the end of that time, they were freed from -Île Nou and permitted to live in New Caledonia on parole, and if they -had committed no fresh offense, at the end of another five years they -were given their ticket back to France. Any one sentenced to a longer -term than five years, however, never saw France again. He regained his -freedom, but was destined to lifelong exile. Some of the _libérés_ have -found employment and have become responsible citizens of New Caledonia, -but many of them drift through the streets of Nouméa, broken old men who -sleep wherever they can find a corner to crawl into and pick their food -from the gutters. - -I was glad, while in Nouméa, to renew my acquaintance with Commissioner -King of the New Hebrides, who had come to New Caledonia to have the -Euphrosyne repaired. I talked over with him my proposed expedition to -Malekula, and received much valuable advice. He could not give me the -armed escort I had hoped to secure from him, for he had no police boys -to spare. He promised, however, to pick us up at Vao, in about a month’s -time, and take us for a cruise through the group in the Euphrosyne. I -wanted him, and the New Caledonian officials as well, to see some of my -work, so I decided to show my films in the Grand Cinéma, the leading -motion-picture house of Nouméa. I gave the proprietor the films free of -charge, under condition that I got fifty seats blocked off in the center -of the house. We invited fifty guests, and the remainder of the house -was packed with French citizens of Nouméa, Chinese and Japanese coolies -and native New Caledonians. I showed the five reels called “Cannibals of -the South Seas.” Then I showed my four reels of Malekula film, and ended -up with a one-reel subject, Nouméa. We were given an ovation, and both -Osa and I had to make speeches—understood by few of those present. The -French have a passion for speeches whether they can understand them or -not. The next morning, we found ourselves celebrities as we walked -through the streets of Nouméa. - - - - - CHAPTER III - THE THRESHOLD OF CANNIBAL-LAND - - -We left New Caledonia at midnight on July 3d, and steamed over a calm -sea to Vila. - -Vila is the commercial center as well as the capital of the New Hebrides -and its harbor is one of the finest in the South Seas. On our right, as -we steamed in, was the island of Irriki, a mountain peak rising out of -the sea, on the highest point of which Mr. King has built his house. -Vila is a typical South Seas town—a rambling mixture of tropical and -European architecture and no architecture at all. Its public buildings, -French and British, its churches, and the well-kept British settlement, -with the parade grounds and barracks for the native police, make it more -imposing than the run of the pioneer villages of Melanesia, but it -seemed strange to us that it should be the metropolis for the white -people of thirty islands. We spent a day in Vila looking up old -acquaintances and laying in supplies. Among the acquaintances we found -good old Father Prin who had been retired from active duty on Vao and -had come to Vila to spend his declining days. He was glad to see us, but -shook his head when he heard that we were again going to try our luck -among the Big Numbers. - -“Big Numbers plenty bad,” he warned us in _bêche-de-mer_. And Osa and I -replied in the same tongue, “Me no fright.” - -I bought nearly a thousand dollars’ worth of food and trade-stuffs from -the four trading stores of Vila, but could not get a schooner or any -native boys to take us on our trip around Malekula. So I decided to go -on to the island of Espiritu Santo, two hundred miles to the north. We -stopped at Api, to leave mail and supplies and to take on copra. In the -harbor there, we again saw the old Snark at anchor. It was a black and -shabby ship, manned by a black crew and used for recruiting labor for -work in the white man’s sugar and copra plantations. - -We found Segond Channel, off Southeastern Santo, filled with cutters and -schooners, every one of which had white men aboard, who had been waiting -a couple of weeks for the news and supplies brought by the Pacifique. In -no time at all, I made arrangements for three schooners with big crews -to accompany me on my visit to the tribe of the Big Numbers. Mr. Thomas, -of Hog Harbor, promised he would send his boat to Vao in a week with as -many boys as he could spare. Mr. Perrole, an experienced French -recruiter, also agreed to charter a schooner and bring boys. We obtained -a third schooner from a young Frenchman, Paul Mazouyer, one of the most -picturesque dare-devils I have ever met. A giant in size and strength, -boiling with energy, always singing, sometimes dancing with his boys, he -did not understand the meaning of fear. He was a match for three white -men, and he took chances on the beach that no other recruiter would -dream of taking. I asked him once in _bêche-de-mer_—the only language in -which we could converse—if the savages did not sometimes make him a -little anxious. - -“Ah,” he said, shifting his huge frame and stretching his arms, “my -word! Suppose fifty men he come, me no fright!” - -I believed him. He was a two-fisted adventurer of the old type, with the -courage of unbeaten youth. He knew, as every white man in the New -Hebrides knows, that he might expect short shrift once the natives got -him in their power, but he trusted to fate and took reckless chances. - -The captain of the Pacifique agreed to take us to Vao, although it was -fifty miles off his course. We dropped anchor off the island just at -daylight and were surrounded almost immediately by canoes filled with -naked savages. The Pacifique was a marvel to the natives. She was one of -the smallest steamers I had ever been aboard, but they had never in all -their lives seen so large a vessel. The imposing size of the ship and -the impressive quantity of my baggage—sixty-five trunks, crates and -boxes—gave me a great deal of importance in their eyes. As we stood on -the beach watching the unloading of the ship’s boat, they crowded about, -regarding us with furtive curiosity. From time to time they opened their -huge, slobbering mouths in loud guffaws, though there was apparently no -cause for laughter. - -When my things were all unloaded, the captain and officers shook hands -with us and put off for the ship. In twenty minutes the Pacifique was -steaming away. Before she gained speed, a big American flag was hoisted -between the masts, and the engineer tooted encouragement to us. As she -grew small in the distance, the flag at the stern of the vessel was -dipped three times. We sat on the beach among our boxes and watched her -until she was just a cloud of smoke on the horizon. We felt very lonely -and very much shut off from our kind there, surrounded by a crowd of -jabbering, naked savages, who stared at us with all the curiosity shown -by people back home toward the wild man in a sideshow. - -With a show of cheerfulness, we set about making ourselves comfortable -for the weeks to come. The huts of the seventeen converts were deserted, -and rapidly going to pieces: the former occupants had forsaken the -lonely clearing for the crowded villages. But the little stone house in -which Father Prin had lived was still standing, though one corner of the -roof had fallen in. A proffer of tobacco secured me many willing black -hands to repair the roof and thatch it with palm leaves. Other natives -brought up our trunks and boxes. They cut big poles and lashed the boxes -to them with vines, and, ten to twenty natives to a box, they carried -the luggage from the beach in no time. By noon we had everything stored -away safe from the weather. We spent the afternoon in unpacking the -things needed for immediate use, and soon Osa and I had our little -three-room dwelling shipshape. - -We had learned a lesson from our first trip, with the result that, on -this second expedition, we had brought with us every possible comfort -and even some luxuries—from air-cushions and mattresses to hams, bacons, -and cheeses specially prepared for us in Sydney. With a clear-flamed -Primus stove and Osa to operate it, we were fairly certain of good food. -Having promulgated the law of the New Hebrides and Solomons, that every -native coming upon the clearing must leave his gun behind him and cover -his nakedness with calico, we settled down for a long stay. - -Vao is a very small island, no more than two miles in diameter, lying -several miles off the northeast shore of Malekula. It is rimmed on the -Malekula side by a broad, beautiful beach. Three small villages are -hidden in the low, scrub jungle, but the only signs of habitation are -three canoe houses that jut out from the fringe of bushes and hundreds -of canoes drawn up in a careful line upon the beach. - -About four hundred savages live in the three villages of Vao. Their -huts—mere shelters, not high enough to permit a man to stand -erect—contain nothing but a few bits of wood to feed the smoldering -fires. Pigs wander freely in and out. Oftentimes these animals seem to -be better favored than the human inmates, who are a poor lot, many of -them afflicted with dreadful sores and weak eyes. - -Many of the inhabitants of Vao are refugees from the big island of -Malekula, who were vanquished in battle and literally driven off the -earth by their enemies. Soon after our arrival, a powerful savage named -Tethlong, one of the Small Numbers people, arrived on Vao with twenty of -his men. All the remaining men of his tribe had been killed and the -women and children had been taken captive. The natives of Vao received -the newcomers as a welcome addition to their fighting force, and -Tethlong set about to insure his position among his new neighbors. He -invited the entire population to a feast, and at once sent his men to -neighboring islands to buy up pigs and chickens for the occasion. The -devil-devils—great, hollowed logs, carved roughly to represent human -faces, which are erected everywhere in the New Hebrides to guard against -evil spirits—were consulted to find a propitious time for the feasting, -and on the appointed day the celebration began with much shouting and -singing and dancing and beating of tom-toms. It lasted for several days. -Before it was over, seven hundred and twenty pigs had been slaughtered. -The island had never before seen such a feast. As a result of his -political strategy, Tethlong became the Big Chief of Vao, taking -precedence over the chiefs already there. - -I got some fine pictures of Tethlong’s feast, but they were the only -pictures I took for some days. For one thing, I was too busy for camera -work; for the job of checking over our supplies and fortifying our place -against a heavy rain kept us busy. For another, I was anxious to keep -our savage neighbors at a distance, so long as we were alone. - -Though they got over their curiosity concerning us and our effects -within a few days, about half a dozen loafers continued to appear every -morning and beg for tobacco. They were too lazy to work, and their -constant presence annoyed us. They were in the way, and, besides, they -grew cheekier day by day. The limit was reached one evening when Osa was -playing her ukulele. Several natives wandered over from the village to -listen. It was pretty music—I liked it a lot—and Osa was flattered when -some of the boys came to talk to us about it. But it soon developed that -they were demanding tobacco as compensation for listening! - -[Illustration: DANCE OF TETHLONG’S MEN] - -We managed to get hold of a fairly trustworthy boy—Arree by name—to help -with the housework. He claimed to have gone to the Catholic mission -school at Vila, and, strange to say, he did not approve of the ways of -his own people, though he was never absent from one of their festivals. -He always told us the local gossip. It was from him that we learned what -had happened to the mission boy who had worked for us on our former -visit. He had aroused the ill-will of a neighbor and two weeks before -our arrival had died from poison placed in his _lap-lap_, a pudding made -of coconuts and fish. - -Osa could write volumes regarding the difficulties of training her -scrubby native recruit to the duties of housework. He spoke good -_bêche-de-mer_, but _bêche-de-mer_ is a language capable of various -interpretations. Osa spoke it better than I, but even she could not make -simple orders clear to our muddle-brained black slavey. One morning, she -told Arree to heat an iron for her. She waited for a long time to get -it, and then went after it. She found Arree crouched before the fire, -gravely watching the iron boiling in a pot. - -Arree murdered the King’s English in a way that must have made old -Webster turn over in his grave. He never said “No.” His negative was -always “No more,” and his affirmative was an emphatic “Yes-yes.” When I -called for warm water in the morning, he would reply, blandly, “Hot -water, he cold fellow,” and I would have to wait until, in his leisured -way, Arree built the fire and heated the water. He had a sore leg, which -I healed with a few applications of ointment. A few days later, he came -to me with one eye swollen nearly shut, and my medicine kit in his hand. -“Me gottem sore leg along eye-eye,” he informed me. Sometimes he -achieved triumphs. I asked him once to tell another native to bring me -the saw from Osa. In order to air his knowledge of English, Arree said: -“You go along Mary (woman) belong Master catchem one fellow something he -brother belong ackus (axe), pullem he come, pushem he go.” And then he -translated the command, for his admiring, wide-eyed brother, into the -native dialect. - -Osa and I often caught ourselves falling into this queer English even -when there were no natives around. It gets into the blood like -baby-talk. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - NAGAPATE COMES TO CALL - - -Long before our reënforcements were due to arrive, we began to feel -uneasy on Vao. I found our neighbors far too friendly with the -unregenerate Malekula bushmen to be entirely trustworthy. The bush -people had no canoes. But when they wanted to visit Vao, they would sing -out from the shore, and the Vao men would go after them and bring them -over, fifteen or twenty of them at a time. The Malekula men never came -near our clearing, but the knowledge that they were on the island made -us uncomfortable. We were sure that they came to participate in savage -orgies, for often after a group of them arrived, the sound of the -tom-tom and of savage chanting drifted through the jungle from the -native villages, and our little clearing seemed haunted by shadows that -assumed menacing shapes. Finally, there occurred an incident that -changed what had been merely nervous apprehension to vivid fear. - -We had been a week on the island. The schooners we were awaiting had not -yet arrived. We could expect them, now, any day, but things do not run -by clockwork in the South Seas, so we knew that another week might pass -before we should see them. It had been hot and rainy and steamy and -disagreeable ever since our arrival, but to-night was clear, with a -refreshing breeze. After our tinned dinner, Osa and I went down to the -beach. The moon was full. The waves lazily washed up on the soft sand, -white in the moonlight, and the fronds of the palm-trees along the shore -whispered and rattled above our heads. Osa, in a romantic mood, was -strumming very softly on the ukulele. All at once, we heard the -whish-whish of canoe paddles coming around a rocky point. We moved back -into the shelter of some bushes and watched. - -Presently ten natives landed on the beach and drew their canoe up after -them. From it they took two objects wrapped in leaves, one elongated and -heavy—it took several men to handle it—the other small and round. Soon -the men, with their burdens, disappeared down a dark pathway leading to -the village. - -For several minutes we did not dare to move. Then we hurried back to the -house and got our revolvers and sat for a long time feeling very much -alone, afraid to go to bed and afraid to go out in the open. After a -while a weird chanting and the beating of tom-toms began in the village -near by. The noise kept us awake all night. - -Next morning, Arree came up with his story of the night’s revels. The -packages, he said, had really contained the body and head of a man. The -head had been impaled on a stick in the village square, and the natives -had danced wildly around it. Then the body was spitted on a long pole -and roasted over a great fire. The savages continued to dance and sing -until the horrible meal was ready. The rest of the night was spent in -feasting. Such orgies as this, Arree said, were fairly frequent. The -natives often purchased slain enemies from the bush savages of Malekula, -to eat as they would eat so many pigs. - -Two days after this incident, Paul Mazouyer dropped anchor off Vao. We -were glad to see him, and told him so in emphatic _bêche-de-mer_, the -only common language at our disposal. We promptly put my apparatus -aboard his little schooner, or cutter, as the craft was called in those -waters, and set sail for the country of the Big Numbers. A hundred naked -savages watched us in silence from the beach. The two other schooners -had gone on ahead to meet us in Big Numbers Bay, known locally as -Tanemarou. They were all recruiting schooners with experienced crews, -armed with regulation rifles, as permitted and indeed insisted upon by -the Government. - -Recruiting labor for the rubber and sugar plantations of white settlers -is a regular business in the New Hebrides and a dangerous one. A -recruiter chooses his island and anchors in the offing. He then sets -adrift a charge of dynamite, which is detonated as a signal to the -natives. The roar of the explosion rolls through the valleys and echoes -against the hills. On the day following, the savages come down to the -beach to trade. Two boats then put off from the schooner. In the first -is the white man with an unarmed crew, for the savages are not beyond -rushing the boat for the sake of a gun. In the second, hovering a short -distance away, is an armed crew, who cover the savages with their guns -while their master parleys with the chiefs for recruits. At the first -hostile move on the part of the natives, the boys in the covering boat -open fire. - -Despite such extreme precautions, tragedies happen. A friend of Paul -Mazouyer’s had been killed at Malua, whither we were now bound. Paul -told us the story. There were only a few savages on the beach at the -time; but one of them promised to go into the bush to recruit if his -people were given half a case of tobacco. The recruiter foolishly sent -his covering boat back to the cutter for the tobacco, and the savages -sat down on the beach to wait. While they were waiting, another savage -came out of the jungle. He walked slowly down the beach with his hands -behind him and waded out into the water until he could get behind the -white man. Then he suddenly placed the muzzle of a gun against the white -man’s back and pulled the trigger. - -A French gunboat was sent from Nouméa to avenge the murder, and a month -after the tragedy Paul led an expedition into the bush which razed a -village and killed a number of savages. - -In conclusion, Paul told us an incident that he thought was uproariously -funny. The victor had brought the bodies of four of the natives down to -the sea. Among the members of the expedition were a dozen “civilized” -blacks of a tribe hostile to the Big Numbers. These twelve boys looked -thoughtfully at the four dead bodies and then approached the commander -with a spokesman at their head. - -“Master,” he said with great earnestness, “me lookum some fellow man he -die finish. He stop along sand. He plenty good kai-kai! Me think more -better you no put him along ground. Altogether boy he speak—He eat him!” - -We reached the bay where these events had taken place on the first night -after our departure from Vao. We coasted along so close to the shore -that we could plainly see groups of natives who watched us, talking and -gesticulating among themselves, and sometimes followed us for some -distance along the beach, curious to see where we would land. We rounded -the northern point of the island and bucked into a stiff head wind and a -strong current. We made little progress until the tide turned. Then we -went along at a good rate. - -We anchored in Malua Bay, a stone’s throw from shore, on a line with a -great ravine that cleft the mountains and separated the territory of the -Small Numbers tribes, which lies directly across from Vao, from that of -the Big Numbers, which occupies the northwest corner of the island. - -That was a night typical of the South Seas. I shall never forget it. The -moon was visible for only a few seconds at a time, when it dodged from -behind thick, drifting clouds and drenched everything with a light -almost as bright as day. Our black crew huddled in the bow of the boat. -We sat with our guns beside us. On the shore we could clearly make out -the forms of savages squatting around their camp-fire. From the distance -we could hear the deep tones of the conch-shell boo-boos. The sea rolled -upon the beach with a heavy, sleepy purring. In the dark blue waters -below us we could see sharks moving about, leaving trails of phosphorus. -By the light of a greasy, smoky lantern that went out every few moments, -struggling against a ground swell that threatened to capsize my -typewriter, I entered the day’s events in my diary. As I wrote, the -savages began a weird dance, their grotesque forms silhouetted against -the sky. The sound of their chanting brought me what Osa calls the -“South Sea feeling.” I don’t know how to describe it. But it is the -thing that makes me always want to go back. - -The next morning we went ashore in two boats, Paul, Osa, and myself in -one, with one boy to pull, and four armed boys in another boat to cover -us. There were only half a dozen savages in sight, so we landed on the -beach and even walked up to the small river that emptied into the bay, -but we kept our guns handy and the covering boat was watching closely. -We knew that if it came to a rush, we could beat the savages to the boat -and that they were too poor shots to waste valuable ammunition in -shooting from the edge of the jungle. It is the custom of the men of -Malekula to approach near enough to place the muzzle against their -enemy. Otherwise, they seldom risk a shot. - -We had not been ashore long when we saw a couple of natives emerge from -the bush and walk toward us. We hurried to the boat. Other savages -appeared in small groups, so we shoved off. We bobbed along the shore -all afternoon, while Paul tried to get recruits. About fifty armed -savages wandered up and down, coaxing us in closer; but on account of -Osa, I would not risk landing, though Paul, who feared nothing, wanted -to put in to shore. He knew that almost any savage in that region would -kill him, if chance offered, in revenge for the part he had played in -the punitive expedition, but this was his favorite recruiting ground and -he was not to be scared away from it. He had the contempt for natives -that has resulted fatally for many a white man. - -At sundown we returned to the cutter. We could hear the savages shouting -as they went back into the hills. The broiling sun had left us hot and -sticky, and when Paul suggested a swim we all agreed to it, sharks or no -sharks. The boys kept a sharp lookout for the flashes of phosphorus that -would mean approaching danger, but we finished our swim without -adventure. Nevertheless, that night we put out hooks and caught two -sharks, one four feet long, the other six—which ended our swimming along -these shores. - -Paul’s little boat was close quarters for the three of us. He made his -bed alongside the engines, below, and Osa and I slept in the scuppers, -one on each side of the hatch. - -At about eleven o’clock, it began to rain and blow. We dragged our -anchor and had to put down another and then a kedge anchor in addition. -The craft twisted and turned and plunged, until Osa swore we went right -over and up again. I padded Osa with old sail to protect her from -bruises and we held on to the hatch with both hands to keep from being -thrown into the sea. Almost all our supplies were drenched; for we -robbed everything else of tarpaulin or canvas coverings to keep my -apparatus dry. Shivering and wretched, we crouched on deck waiting for -daylight. Morning was never so slow in coming; but with the first light, -the rain ceased, the sea became smooth, and the sun came up broiling -hot, sucking up the moisture until from stern to bow we looked like a -spout of a boiling tea-kettle. - -There was fever in the air. We ate quinine as if it had been candy, in -an effort to stave off the sickness that, always inconvenient, would now -prove especially so. - -About noon we made out two vessels sailing up to us, and as they came -alongside we found that one was sailed by Perrole and the other by a -young man, half Samoan and half English, whom Mr. Thomas had sent with -ten boys. His name was Stephens. We now had twenty-six armed and -experienced natives, four white men and Osa. With this force I was ready -to undertake almost anything; so after a hasty conference we decided to -go on to Tanemarou, the bay from which we had first entered Nagapate’s -territory. Without the aid of the Government, I saw that it would be -impossible to carry out my original intention of entering the island at -the northern end and traversing it straight through to the southern. So -I proposed the alternative plan of sailing completely around the island, -landing at different points from which I could strike inland to visit -the tribes. In many ways, this latter plan proved to be the better of -the two for my purpose. I doubt, now, if a Government escort would have -been to my advantage; for any Government expedition would have been -regarded as a punitive raid and as such would have encountered the most -determined resistance. Even at the time, I felt that the peaceable -nature of my expedition would put me on good terms with the savages. -Cruel as they were, they were childlike, too, and the fact that we were -coming to them in a friendly spirit with presents for which, apparently, -we were asking nothing in return, would, I felt sure, disarm their -hostility. I had discovered that most of the recent murders of white men -had been committed by the savages in a spirit of revenge. Recruiters who -had carried off their kinsfolk; traders who had cheated them; members of -punitive expeditions, or the occasional Simon Legree who had earned the -hatred of the blacks by cruelty—such were the victims of savage gun or -knife. - -It was with a feeling of confidence that I sailed into Tanemarou Bay. -Here, sweeping around us, was the broad beach across which we had run -for our lives almost two years before. In fine yellow sand it spread -away from the water’s edge for about a hundred yards to the dark fringe -of jungle. Against the high black volcanic rocks that guarded the -entrance to the bay, a heavy surf beat and roared, but on the sands the -land-locked waters lapped gently, shimmering with many colors. The dark -hills rose about the jungle in green slopes mottled with brown and -streaked here and there with tiny wisps of smoke. - -I suddenly thought that the peaceful aspect of those hills was exactly -what must have struck the men aboard the gunboat Euphrosyne when its -opportune appearance had given Osa and me the chance for our lives. The -memory of that horrible adventure made me momentarily uneasy. Osa -squeezed my arm, and I knew that her thoughts, too, had gone back to the -evening when, in the gathering darkness, we had slipped from the edge of -the jungle, tattered, bleeding, and terrified, and rushed into the water -pursued by the yelling savages. - -Paul was not troubled by any forebodings. He at once suggested that we -go ashore. So Osa and I followed him into the boat and we pulled for the -beach, followed by the small boats from the other cutters. As we landed, -about twenty armed savages suddenly appeared and came walking boldly -toward us. Except for belts of rough bark and clouts of pandanus fiber, -they were naked. The flatness of their noses was accentuated by plugs -driven through the cartilage dividing the nostrils. Shaggy, outstanding -manes of hair completely encircled their faces, which were deeply seamed -and wore a perpetual scowl. - -I began to doubt once more whether I could fulfill the object of my -expedition after all. There was no man living who had witnessed the -cannibalistic rites of these wild men. Many had made the attempt and had -paid a gruesome penalty. But as the band drew nearer, my feeling -changed. In a sense, they were my people. They had encircled the globe -with me and in the comfortable surroundings of great theaters had stood -naked and terrible before thousands of civilized people. I had made -their faces familiar in all parts of the world. With something like -emotion I watched them as they approached. Suddenly the figure at their -head stood out like a “fade-in.” - -It was Nagapate. - -Osa and I forgot that this savage had once wanted to eat us. We forgot -what had happened at our first violent meeting. We looked at each other -and smiled and then, both actuated by the same unaccountable impulse, we -rushed forward and grabbed his hand. - -Now Nagapate did not know the meaning of a handshake, but he seemed to -understand instantly that we were glad to see him. His heavy face, -gashed so deeply with wrinkles that his scowl seemed unalterable, broke -into a delighted grin. He recovered his dignity in a moment, however, -and stood to one side with his arms folded on his massive chest, -watching closely every move we made. The strong guard we had brought -with us must have impressed him; but he did not seem at all -apprehensive, for he could tell by our conduct that we were friendly. We -were anxious to get some pictures. However, since fresh relays of -savages continued to come down from the jungle, we decided to wait until -we had with us all the boys from the other boats before taking any -further chances. - -We decided to return to the cutter, and as we were about to embark an -extraordinary thing happened. Nagapate came up to Osa and made signs to -show that he would like to go aboard with us. Now hundreds of his own -people had been grabbed from his beach in times gone by and -“blackbirded” away to slavery. He was accustomed, and with cause, to -think the white man as merciless as we thought him to be. Yet of his own -free will, without a glimmer of fear, Nagapate put himself completely in -our power. - -[Illustration: A CALL FROM NAGAPATE] - -An hour later, while we ate our dinner of tinned beef, Nagapate, with -two of his men, squatted on the deck at our feet and ate hard-tack and -white trade-salmon. Afterwards I brought out pictures I had made on my -first visit. The savages gave yells of excitement when they saw -Nagapate’s face caught on paper. When I produced a large colored poster -of the chief and presented it to him, he was speechless. The three -savages, looking at this mysterious likeness, were almost ready to -kow-tow to us, as they did to their devil-devils in the bush. - -But the crowning touch of all came when we had grown a little tired of -our guests, and Osa brought out her ukulele and commenced to sing. To -our surprise Nagapate joined in, chanting a weird melody, which his men -took up. After a few bars, they were made shy by the sound of their own -voices. Nagapate stopped his song and vainly tried once more to look -dignified. In fact, that old man-eater showed every manifestation of a -young and awkward boy’s self-consciousness! - -We bridged over the awkward situation with more salmon and about ten -o’clock sent him ashore happy, with his bare arms full of knives and -calico and tobacco. We judged by his farewell that we would be welcome -any time we cared to drop in on him for dinner and that we had a fair -prospect of not being served up as the main course. In any case, on the -strength of his visit, I determined to chance a visit to his village on -the following day, though I realized that the visit, in many ways -significant, did not give the least assurance of continued friendliness. -These savages are as willful and as uncertain in their moods as -children. When they are sulky, they are as likely to murder -treacherously whoever arouses their ill-will as a small boy is to throw -a stone. There is no one to control or guide them. They are physically -powerful, they are passionate, and they possess deadly weapons. We could -be no more certain that our lives would be safe with them than a man -with a silk hat can be sure of his headgear among three hundred -schoolboys fighting with snowballs. - -We were awakened at daybreak by a shout from the shore. A score of -natives stood on the beach, calling and gesticulating. I went ashore, -accompanied by Paul Mazouyer, and found that they had presents from -their chief, Nagapate—yams and coconuts and wild fruits. But the -presents were not for me. In their almost unintelligible _bêche-de-mer_, -the natives explained that the fruits were for “Mary”—their -_bêche-de-mer_ word for woman. I could scarcely believe my ears. In all -my experience among the blacks of the South Seas, I had never known a -savage to pay any attention to a woman, except to beat her or to growl -at her. The women of the islands are slaves, valued at so many pigs. -They do all the work that is done in the native villages and get -scoldings and kicks for thanks. I went doubtfully back to the schooner -and brought Osa ashore. The natives greeted her with grunts of -satisfaction and laid their offering at her feet. - -My respect for Nagapate increased. I saw that he was a diplomat. He had -observed that this little person in overalls, who had approached him so -fearlessly, was treated with the utmost deference by the crews of the -schooners and by the white men. He had come to the conclusion that she -was the real boss of the expedition. And he was very nearly right! - -Perrole and Stephens joined us, and we remained on the beach all -morning. Osa and I took pictures of the natives squatting about us and -watched for Nagapate himself to put in an appearance. I was eager to -invite him to his first “movie.” He had been overcome with awe at sight -of a photograph of himself. What would he say to motion-pictures that -showed him talking, with threatening gestures, and scowling as on that -memorable day two years before? - -Every now and then a new delegation of natives arrived on the beach. In -spite of the law that prohibits the sale of firearms to the natives, -they all carried rifles. I examined some of the guns. They were old, but -not too old to do damage, and every native had a supply of cartridges. I -found later that spears and bows and arrows are almost out of use among -the Big Numbers. Nine men out of ten own guns. Where do they get them? -No native will tell, for telling would mean no more rifles and no more -cartridges. The white people of the islands know, but they keep their -information to themselves. I know, too, but I am not doing any talking -either, for I want to go back to the New Hebrides some day. - -Our own boys remained close by us all the morning and we kept sharp -watch for any sign of treachery. By noon, the savages had lost their -suspicion of us. They stacked their rifles against rocks and trees and -moved about, talking to each other in their strange, grunting speech. -We, too, moved about more freely. And I tried to gain the confidence of -the natives by talking to them. My attempts to learn their language with -_bêche-de-mer_ as a medium brought great guffaws. But in spite of the -friendliness of our visitors, we were never quite at ease. Their -appearance was against them. Their ugly faces—eyes with scarcely any -pupils, flat noses made twice their normal size by the wooden plugs -thrust through the cartilage dividing the nostrils, great mouths with -thick, loose lips—their stealthy way of walking, their coarse, rapid, -guttural speech, which sounded angry even when they spoke to one -another, the quick gestures with which they filled in the gaps in their -limited language—none of these things tended to make us feel at home. - -I kept wondering how some of Osa’s sheltered young friends back home -would act, if they were to be set down, as she was, on a sandy beach, -miles from civilization, and surrounded with fierce cannibals—hideous -and worse than naked; for they worship sex, and what clothing they wear -calls attention to their sex rather than conceals it. I watched her -admiringly as she went about taking snapshots as unconcernedly as if the -savages had been Boy Scouts on an outing. And I thought, as I have -thought many many times in the nine years we have gone about together, -how lucky I was. Osa has all the qualities that go to make an ideal -traveling companion for an explorer—pluck, endurance, cheerfulness under -discomfort. In an emergency, I would trust her far sooner than I would -trust most men. - -During the afternoon, several fresh groups of natives came out of the -jungle to stare at us, and toward sunset a number of savages descended a -trail that sloped down to the beach about half a mile from where we were -sitting and brought us a message from the great chief. It was couched as -follows: “Nagapate, he big fellow master belong Big Numbers. He, he -wantem you, you two fellow, you come along lookem house belong him, you -lookem piccaninny belong him, you lookem Mary belong him. He makem big -fellow sing-sing. More good you, you two fellow come. He no makem bad, -he makem good altogether.” And it meant that His Highness, Chief -Nagapate, would like to have us visit him in his village, and that he -guaranteed our safety. - -[Illustration: THE SAFE BEACH TRAIL, TANEMAROU BAY] - -I accepted the invitation with alacrity. The messengers hurried off, and -Osa and I followed, curious to see where the trail left the beach. We -had not gone far, before Paul shouted for us to stop. We halted and saw, -a quarter of a mile down the beach, a group of about a hundred armed -natives. Some Big Numbers people came up to us and warned us, with -gestures, to go no farther, so we sat down on the sand and awaited -developments. The newcomers squatted on the beach and stared in our -direction. In about fifteen minutes, a second group of natives appeared -from a trail still farther down the beach, and the first group sprang to -their feet and melted into the bush with incredible rapidity. - -What did it all mean? Paul, well versed in island lore, had the answer. -The beach was used jointly by four tribes, three belonging to the Big -Numbers and one to the Small Numbers people. All of these tribes are -more or less hostile, but they have agreed between them that the beach -is neutral ground, for they realize that if fighting is permitted there, -it will never be safe for any of them to come out into the open to trade -or fish. Sometimes the beach armistice is violated, and for weeks there -is severe fighting along the sand; in the end, however, the matter is -always settled by an exchange of wild pigs and the beach is again safe -for all comers. But the armistice never extends back into the bush. In -the jungle and the tall cane-grass, it is always open season for -man-killing. - -We returned to the schooner early that evening, in order to make ready -for our trip into the interior. I packed all my photographic apparatus -carefully in canvas and rubber cases, and I bundled up several -tarpaulins to protect us and our cameras in case of sudden rain. We put -up enough supplies to last seven or eight days, and a good equipment of -trade-stuffs. As we packed, the monotonous chanting of some twenty of -Nagapate’s men, who had remained on the beach to escort us to the -village, drifted across the water. Occasionally we caught a glimpse of -them, grotesque black shapes against the light from their camp-fire. - - - - - CHAPTER V - IN NAGAPATE’S KINGDOM - - -Next morning, before daybreak, we were on the beach. The embers of the -camp-fire remained, but our escort had vanished. I was filled with -misgivings. Did Nagapate plan treachery? We were thirty-one—twenty-six -trustworthy native boys, four white men, and Osa. We were all well -equipped with repeating rifles and automatic pistols. In open fight, we -could have stood off a thousand savages. But I knew that the men of -Malekula, though they are notoriously bad shots, could pick us off one -by one, if they wished, as we went through the jungle. - -I suppose that we all felt a little doubtful about taking the plunge -into the jungle, but we all—with the exception of our native boys, who -were plainly in a blue funk—kept our doubts to ourselves. The boys were -so frightened that they rebelled against carrying anything except their -guns. To inspire them with confidence, each of us took a piece of -luggage, and then we divided among them what was left and persuaded them -to take the trail. - -It was dawn on the beach, but it was still night in the jungle. The -trail was a dark tunnel with walls and roof of underbrush and trees and -tangled vines. We stumbled along blindly at first. Presently our eyes -became used to the dark and we walked with more ease. Stems and thorns -caught at our clothes as we passed. We slipped on wet, slimy roots and -stumbled over them in the dim light. Only where the jungle was -intersected by one of the numerous streams—swift but shallow and never -too wide for leaping—that water the island, did the light succeed in -struggling weakly through the tangle. - -The New Hebridean jungle is different from that of India or Africa. The -severe hurricanes that sweep over the islands each year have stunted -growth. There are no forest giants. Trees send their branches out rather -than up, forming a dense mass of vegetation that is further bound -together by vines, so that it is almost impossible to penetrate the -jungle save by beaten trails or along the courses of streams. - -The sun was well up when we came out on the first of a series of -plateaus that formed a giant stairway up the mountain. They were -separated from one another by five hundred to a thousand yards of scrub -trees and tangled bush. It was not easy going. The ascents were steep, -and the trail was wet and slippery. - -We kept watch for treacherous natives. Once we were startled by -blood-curdling cries that came from the direction in which we were -going. Our boys said the men of Malekula were hunting wild pigs. We went -on in silence. Our hearts jumped every time a twig cracked. There was a -set expression on Osa’s face. I knew she was frightened, but I knew, -too, that no amount of money would have persuaded her to turn back. - -By noon we had reached what seemed to be the highest point of northern -Malekula, and looked back over valley after valley of dense jungle, and -plateau after plateau covered with cane-grass. Here and there a coconut -tree stood out alone. Smoke, curling out of the hillsides, indicated the -sites of native villages. Perhaps, at that very moment, gruesome feasts -of human flesh were being prepared. In the bay, very small and very far -off, were three black dots—our boats. - -We heard a sound behind us and quickly turned. There were some twenty -men, sent by the “big fellow master belong Big Numbers.” They took our -apparatus and indicated that we were to follow them. We were dead tired; -still there seemed nothing to do but to push on. - -We were not sorry, after about a mile, to approach a village. First we -came upon scattered groves of coconut and banana trees. Our trail became -wider and harder and we passed weed-grown patches of yams and taro, -protected against the wild pigs by rude walls of bamboo. Finally we came -out upon a clearing around which clustered a few wretched shelters -thatched roughly with leaves. In the center of the clearing stood -upright hollow logs—the drums used to send messages from village to -village and to furnish music for the native dances. The natives called -them boo-boos—the name given to conch-shells and all other sound-making -instruments. On the hard ground of the clearing sat some thirty savages, -all well armed. They had apparently been watching for us, but they did -not greet us. We spoke to them, but, beyond a few grunts, they made no -reply. There were no women and children in sight. That was a bad sign; -for the women and children are sent away only when there is trouble in -the air. Perrole, Stephens, and Mazouyer drew nearer to Osa and me. -Their faces were grave. Our boys edged close to us. None of us spoke. - -[Illustration: LOOKING OVER NAGAPATE’S KINGDOM FROM THE HIGHEST PEAK IN -NORTHERN MALEKULA] - -After a short rest, our guides indicated that we were to take the trail -again. We pushed on over a muddy path, bordered by coconut and banana -trees, and in about fifteen minutes we came out upon another clearing, -much larger than the first, with many more huts surrounding it and with -more and bigger boo-boos in the center. Here again were savages awaiting -us—about two hundred of them, each with a gun. We were led to a big -boo-boo that had been overturned by the wind and were told to sit down. -We obeyed like obedient school-children. - -One of the natives beat out on a boo-boo an irregular boom-boom-boom -that roared through the clearing and was echoed back from the hills. It -sounded like a code. We felt that it might be a summons to the -executioner. Osa huddled close to me. A stillness fell over the -assembly. - -Suddenly, at the far side of the clearing, a huge savage appeared. It -was Nagapate. He stood for a moment, looking over the audience; then he -walked slowly and majestically into the center of the clearing. He -roared a few words to his men. Then he turned to us. A native came -running up—the laziest black stepped lively when Nagapate commanded—with -a block of wood for a throne. The chief sat down near us, and we stepped -forward and shook hands with him. He had grown used to this form of -greeting and responded with graciousness. - -It had been a wonderful entrance. But then Nagapate had an instinct for -the dramatic. Throughout our stay in his village, I noticed, he never -made a move that was not staged. He let it be known by his every act -that he was no common chief, who had won his position through skill in -killing pigs or men. Nagapate was a king and a descendant of kings. His -was the only tribe I had come across during my travels among the blacks -of the South Pacific that had an hereditary ruler. - -After he had greeted us, he uttered a sharp command and a native stepped -up with a big bamboo water-bottle. Nagapate drank from it, and then the -native offered it, tilted at the proper angle, to each of us in turn. It -was not pleasant to drink from the mouthpiece at which Nagapate’s great -lips had sucked. But we gathered that the bottle was the South Sea -equivalent of a pipe of peace; so we drank gladly. I then presented to -Nagapate a royal gift of knives, calico, and tobacco, and I told one of -the boys to give two sticks of tobacco to each native. - -The natives smoked their tobacco (those that did not eat it) at once and -greedily. It seemed to break the ice a bit; so I got out my cameras. For -three hours, I made pictures. But I did not get any “action.” I wanted a -picture of a man coming out of his house; for the doors of the huts are -so low that the people have to come out on all fours. I persuaded a -native to go into his hut and come out again. He did so. But his -companions laughed and jeered at him, and after that every one had stage -fright. - -As the afternoon wore on, scores of women and children appeared. I have -never seen human beings more wretched than those women. At first sight -they looked like walking haystacks. They wore dresses of purple dyed -grasses, consisting of a bushy skirt that hung from the waist to the -knees, a sort of widow’s veil that was thrown over the head and face so -as to leave a tiny peep-hole for the wearer to look through, and a long -train that hung down the back nearly to the ground. A more cumbersome -and insanitary dress was never devised. It was heavy. It was hot. Worst -of all, it was dirty. Every one of the dresses was matted with filth. I -did not see a single pig—and there were dozens of them rooting about -inside and outside the houses—that was so dirty as the women of that -village. I afterward found that for women to wash was strictly taboo. -From birth to death water never touched their skins! - -I got my cameras ready, but the women hid in the houses and would not -come out to be photographed. Not until Nagapate commanded them to come -into the clearing did they creep whimpering in terror from the low -doors. - -We had heard from the natives at our headquarters on the island of Vao -that Nagapate had a hundred wives, but there were only ten of them, and -they were as wretched as any of the other women. Osa presented them each -with a string of beads and a small glass jar of cheap candy. They did -not even look at their gifts. They wanted only to get the ordeal over -and to escape. During all our stay in the village the poor, browbeaten -wretches never got up enough courage to look at us. Their lords and -masters felt our skins and our hair and our clothes, examining us with -embarrassing freedom. But whenever we came upon a woman, she squatted -down and hid her face behind her grass veil. - -Since the women and children had appeared, we gained confidence and -walked about the village, inspecting the houses. As we approached, the -children, scrawny little wretches, big-bellied from malnutrition and -many of them covered with sores, scurried off into the bush like -frightened rabbits. The houses were wretched huts made of poles with a -covering of leaves and grass, or, occasionally, of woven bamboo. Inside -were the embers of fires—nothing more. A hard, worn place on the ground -in one corner showed where the owner slept. Nagapate’s house stood off -by itself. It was larger than the rest and more compactly made. But it -was as bare as any of the others. - -Toward sunset we built a fire and cooked our supper. The natives -gathered around and watched us in astonishment. They themselves made no -such elaborate preparation for eating. Once in a while a man would -kindle a fire and throw a few yams among the coals. When the yams were -burned black on one side, he would turn them with a stick and burn them -on the other. Then they were ready for eating—the outside burned crisp -and the inside raw. One evening some of the men brought in some little -pigs, broke their legs, so that they could not escape, and threw them, -squealing, into a corner of a hut. The next day there was meat to eat. -Like the yams, it was only half-cooked. The natives tore it with their -teeth as if they had been animals, and they seemed especially to relish -the crisp, burned portions. Each man was his own cook. Even Nagapate -made his own fire and cooked his own food, for it was taboo for him to -eat anything prepared by an inferior or cooked over a fire made by an -inferior. He conveniently considered us his superiors and ate greedily -everything we gave him. He never shared the salmon and rice he got from -us either with his cronies or with his wives. In fact, we never saw a -woman eating, and the children seemed to live on sugar-cane and on clay -that they dug up with their skinny little fingers. - -Our first day as Nagapate’s guests drew to an end. Just before dark a -native came and motioned to us to follow him. He led us to a new house -and indicated that we were to make ourselves at home there. We were -tired out after our long march; so we turned in without delay. We spread -our blankets on the ground and lay, fully dressed, on top of them. The -camp soon became quiet, but we could not sleep. So far, everything had -gone well, but still we did not feel quite safe. Our boys seemed to -share our apprehension. They crowded around the hut, as close to us as -they could get. Some of them slipped under the grass walls and lay half -inside the hut. - -[Illustration: WOMEN OF THE BIG NUMBERS] - -We slept little and were up before dawn, stiff from lying on the hard -ground. We asked for water, and a native brought it in a bamboo bottle. -There was about a pint of water for each of the five of us. The savage -that brought it looked on astonished as we washed our hands and faces. -It is not taboo for the Big Numbers men to bathe—but they rarely use -their privilege, and they could not understand our reckless waste of -water, which was carried by the women from a spring half a mile away. - -After a breakfast of tinned beef, we set to work. But if it had been -hard to get good pictures the day before, it was now almost impossible. -The women had all left the village to get the day’s supply of water, -fruits, and firewood. The men squatted in the center of the clearing, -guns in hand. They were apparently waiting for something—for what? - -We were uneasy. It may seem to the reader, in view of the fact that we -escaped with whole skins, that we were absurdly uneasy. But I should -like to see the man who could remain calm when surrounded as we were by -savages, ugly and powerful, whose only pleasure was murder, and who, we -were convinced, were eaters of human flesh. All day long our hosts -squatted about the giant boo-boos, staring at us or at the ground or at -the jungle or, sometimes, it seemed, at nothing at all. Now and then a -single savage would come out of the jungle and join the group, and -immediately one of the squatters would get up and go into the bush, -taking the trail by which the newcomer had arrived. Even Paul was -troubled, and confided to me, when the others were not about, “Me no -like.” - -The coming and going and interminable squatting and staring got on the -nerves of all of us. Toward evening, we received an explanation of it -from Atree, Nagapate’s “private secretary.” Atree had been “blackbirded” -away from the island about twelve years previous to our arrival, in the -days when natives were still carried off by force for servitude on the -plantations of Queensland; and, by some miracle, when the all-white -Australia law had gone into effect and the blacks had been -“repatriated,” he had made his way back to his own island. He had -managed, during his sojourn abroad, to pick up a little _bêche-de-mer_; -so he acted as go-between and interpreter in all our dealings with -Nagapate. He told us that a fight with a neighboring village was -brewing. There had been a dispute over some pigs, in which somebody had -got hurt. The relatives of the victim were preparing to attack our -hosts. The men who had come and gone from the clearing were the lookouts -who guarded the village against surprise. - -A fight! My first thought was, “What a picture I’ll get!” But Osa, at my -elbow, said miserably, “I wish we were back in the boat,” and my -conscience began to hurt. To reassure her I told her that our force was -a match for half a dozen native villages. - -Before sunset there was great activity in the clearing. Men kept coming -and going, and there was much grunted consultation in the shadow of the -boo-boos. All that night an armed guard stood watch. - -At sunrise, Nagapate came and asked if we would shoot off our guns to -frighten the enemy. I did not like the idea. I thought it might be a -ruse to get us to empty our guns and to give the natives a chance to -rush on us before we could reload. However, since we did not wish to -seem suspicious, we granted the request. But we fired in rotation, -instead of in a volley, so that there would always be some among us with -ready rifles. And I found that I was not the only one who had thought of -the danger of empty cartridge-chambers: I have never seen such snappy -reloading as that of our black boys! - -After the volley, I gave Nagapate my rifle to shoot. He unloaded her as -fast as he could pull the trigger, and begged for more, like an eager -small boy. I was sorry to refuse him, but I did not care to waste many -cartridges, so I explained through Atree that the gun had to cool off, -and Nagapate, to my relief, seemed satisfied with the explanation. - -After the shooting was over, everybody seemed to take courage. The -natives moved about more freely. Only about a third remained armed and -ready for summons. They were apparently satisfied that their enemies, -convinced that they were well supplied with ammunition, would be afraid -to start hostilities. We ourselves were more at ease, and I went up to -some of the soldiers and examined their fighting equipment. Their guns -were, as usual, old and rusty, but they all had cartridges, which they -carried in leather cartridge cases slung over their shoulders. I was -surprised to find that none had clubs. Instead, they had big knives, -some of them three feet long, for hand-to-hand fighting. Paul told me -that such knives had become the most sought-for articles of trade. There -was no Government ban on them as on rifles and cartridges. - -[Illustration: RAMBI] - -On the afternoon of our fourth day in the village, Nagapate brought up a -man we had not seen before. He was nearly as large as Nagapate himself, -and had, like Nagapate, an air of commanding dignity. - -“Rambi! Rambi!” growled Nagapate, pointing to his companion. Then the -chief went through a rapid pantomime, in which he seemed to kill off a -whole army of enemies. We gathered that Rambi was minister of war, as -indeed he was; but Osa dubbed him chief of police. We learned from Paul -that the tribe was ruled by a sort of triumvirate, with Nagapate in -supreme command and Rambi and a third chief named Velle-Velle, who acted -as a primitive prime minister, next in authority. - -Rambi was a Godsend. He enjoyed being photographed, although he did not -have the slightest idea of what the operation meant. He forgot his -dignity and capered like a monkey in front of my camera and actually -succeeded in injecting a little enthusiasm into the rest of the natives, -who still suffered from stage fright. - -I gave presents of tobacco for every picture I made. I must have paid -out several dollars’ worth of tobacco each day. Ten years earlier, when -I was on the Snark with Jack London, trade tobacco made from the stalks -and refuse from the Virginia tobacco factories had cost less than a cent -a stick. The supply I had with me in Malekula had cost almost four cents -a stick. Thus the high cost of living makes itself felt even in the -South Seas. Tinned foods, cartridges, gasoline, mirrors, knives, and -calico also have increased in price enormously since the war. An -explorer must expect his expenses to be just about four hundred per cent -higher than they were ten years ago. And the trader is in a bad way. For -the natives learned how to value trade-stuffs years ago and they insist -on buying at the old rate. Increased costs and greater difficulty of -transportation mean nothing to them. - -On the next day, we went, with an escort of several of Nagapate’s men, -to another Big Numbers village about four miles away. That trip was -typical of the many downs that are mingled with the ups in a -motion-picture man’s existence. The four miles were the hardest four -miles I ever walked. The trail lay along the side of a hill, following a -deep valley. It was seldom used, and it slanted toward the valley in an -alarming way. It was slimy with mud and decayed vegetation, and in many -places a slip would have meant a slide of several hundred feet down a -steep hill. Both Osa and I had on spiked boots, but they soon became -clogged with mud and offered less grip than ordinary shoes. We crept -along at a snail’s pace, testing every foothold. Though we left -Nagapate’s village at dawn, we did not reach our destination until after -ten o’clock. It was a poor and uninteresting village of about thirty -houses. Most of the men were off on a pig hunt, and all the women were -out collecting firewood and fruits and vegetables. About noon, it began -to drizzle. By three o’clock, it had settled down to a good downpour. -The women straggled in one by one and retreated into their houses. The -men returned in a sullen humor, with a few skinny pigs. According to -custom, they broke one hind leg and one front leg of each animal to -prevent its escape and threw the wretched little creatures in a -squalling, moaning heap. Those on the bottom probably suffocated before -morning. - -We could not think of retracing our steps over the treacherous trail in -that downpour; so we persuaded a native and his wife and two sore-faced -children to give up their hut to us. Since we had no blankets, we lay on -the hard ground and made the best of a bad bargain. - -Next morning, the rain had ceased. But the cane-grass was as wet as a -sponge. We had not gone a hundred yards toward Nagapate’s village before -we were soaked through. The trail was more slippery than ever. About -every quarter of a mile we had to stop and rest. The sun came out -boiling hot and sucked up the moisture, which rose like steam all about -us. We were five hours in this natural Turkish bath. When we reached our -destination, we threw ourselves down and fell asleep in sheer -exhaustion. We had not secured a single foot of film, and we felt -miserably that we stood a very good chance of contracting fever, which -so far we had luckily escaped. - -Late that afternoon, I missed Osa. I had something of a hunt for her, -but I finally found her in the shade at the edge of the clearing, -playing with a little naked piccaninny. Atree and Nagapate squatted near -by, watching her with grave, intent faces. - -[Illustration: ATREE AND NAGAPATE] - -Nagapate was Osa’s constant companion. The great chief had taken a fancy -to the white “Mary.” Every day he sent her gifts, and his yams and -fruits and coconuts pleased her more than if they had been expensive -presents of civilization. They seemed to her an assurance of his -good-will. But the rest of us were a bit uneasy. We had what I now -believe to be the absurd suspicion that all these gifts were tokens of -savage wooing—that perhaps Nagapate was planning to massacre us, if the -occasion offered, and keep Osa to share his wretched hut. The strain of -constant watching, constant suspicion, was telling on our nerves. We -fancied that the novelty of our presence was wearing off. Like children, -the savages soon weary of a diversion. We were becoming -familiar—dangerously familiar—to them, and our gifts and even the magic -taught me by the great Houdini, had begun to pall. We began to feel that -it was time for us to go. - -Osa and I talked it over as we walked about the village the following -afternoon. We strayed farther than usual and suddenly found ourselves -near what seemed to be a deserted hut. We walked around it and found, on -the far side, a well-beaten path that led to a tiny door. Without -thinking, I crawled through the doorway, and Osa followed me. It was -several seconds before our eyes became accustomed to the dim light. -Suddenly Osa gasped and clutched my arm. - -All about us, piled in baskets, were dried human heads. A ghastly frieze -of them grinned about the eaves. Skulls hung from the rafters, heaps of -picked human bones lay in the corners. One glance was enough for us. We -crawled out of the hut and lost no time in getting back to the center of -the village. Luckily none of the savages had seen us. - -We gathered Paul Mazouyer and Perrole and Stephens about us and told -them of our adventure, and it did not take the conference long to decide -to return to the beach on the following day. The other white men told us -that if we had been seen in or near the head-house, the chances were -that we should all have been murdered, for such houses were sacred and -taboo to all, save the men of the village. - -That evening a great fire was started in the clearing. Until late in the -night the ordinarily lazy savages piled on great logs that four men were -required to carry. Nothing was cooked over the fire. It was not needed -for warmth, for the night was stifling hot. We asked Arree the reason -for the illumination. He replied that he did not know. We decided that -there must be some sinister purpose in it and lay sleepless, on guard -the night through. - -At dawn we were up. We did our packing in a hurry, and then we sent one -of the natives for Nagapate. The chief came across the clearing, slowly -and deliberately, as always. With him was a tottering old man, the -oldest native I ever saw in the New Hebrides. - -As Osa and I went up to greet Nagapate, the old man began to jabber -excitedly. He came over to me and felt my arms and legs with both his -skinny hands. He pinched me and poked me in the ribs and stomach. All -the time he kept up a running fire of excited comment, addressed to -Nagapate. To our relief, he finally stopped talking for want of breath. -Nagapate spoke a few sharp words and the old man backed away. - -Osa’s face went white. And indeed, there could be no doubt about the -meaning of the old native’s pantomime. I almost doubted the advisability -of telling Nagapate of our departure. If he liked, he could prevent us -from ever reaching the sea, from which we were separated by so many -miles of jungle. But I decided to take a chance. I had, by this time, -rather more than a smattering of the language of Nagapate’s tribe. I -always make it a practice, when among new tribes, to learn four -words—“Yes,” “no,” “good,” and “bad.” The language spoken by Nagapate -and his followers was so primitive and contained so many repetitions -that I had been able to progress beyond these four fundamental words and -so, with the aid of gestures, I succeeded in telling Nagapate that our -provisions had run out and that we had to return to our boats. To my -surprise Nagapate not only assented to our departure, but volunteered to -accompany us to the beach. - -I invited the entire village to come to the beach for motion-pictures -and tobacco, after sunset, on the following evening. Motion-pictures -meant nothing to them; but tobacco they understood. So they agreed to -come. We left like honored guests, with an escort of twenty-five -savages. Nagapate himself walked (as a result of my maneuvering) safe -between Osa and myself. - -It had taken twelve hours to climb up to Nagapate’s village. The return -journey required only three. It was a pleasant morning’s walk. The sun -was shining bright and beautiful, many-colored birds fluttered about us. - -When we arrived at the beach, we invited Nagapate and his boon -companions, Atree and Rambi, to come on board the schooner. There we -feasted them on hard-tack and white salmon. When bedtime came, the great -chief indicated that it was his pleasure to sleep on board. I was -heartily astonished and a little ashamed. After all our suspicions, -Nagapate was again voluntarily putting himself into our hands, with the -touching confidence of a little child. - -Our royal guest and his men bunked in the engine-room. I happened to -wake about midnight and took a peep at them. There they were, flat on -their backs on the hard, greasy floor, sleeping like logs. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - THE BIG NUMBERS SEE THEMSELVES ON THE SCREEN - - -Early on the morning of the show, we got the whaleboats to work and took -all my projection machinery ashore. Soon I had everything set up, ready -for the show. But when I tried out the projector to see if it was -shipshape, I found that my generator was out of order. Work as I would, -I could not get a light. I was blue and discouraged. I had been looking -forward to this show for two years, and now, apparently, it was not -going to come off. Imagine going back several hundred thousand years and -showing men of the Stone Age motion-pictures of themselves. That is what -I had planned to do. For the men of Malekula are in the stage of -development reached by our own ancestors long before the dawn of written -history. Through my pictures of them, I had carried New York audiences -back into the Stone Age. Now I wanted to transport the savages into -1919—and my generator would not work. - -The projector was worked by man-power. Two men on each side turned the -handles attached to the machinery that should produce the magic light; -but though my boys ground patiently all afternoon, not a glimmer showed. -Finally, I gave up and motioned them to stop. They misunderstood me and, -thinking that I wanted them to turn faster, went to work with redoubled -energy. The miracle happened—the light flashed on. In my excitement, I -forgot my supper. - -The beach was already crowded with savages. I had thought they might be -curious about my machinery. But they scarcely looked at it. They just -squatted on the sands with their guns clutched tight in their hands. No -women and only three or four children accompanied them. In spite of my -promise of tobacco, they had not quite trusted my invitation and they -were on the lookout for foul play. By dark they were restless. They had -received no tobacco. They did not understand all this preparation that -culminated in nothing. They wanted action. - -I saw that the show must begin at once; so I tested everything once -more. Since I had no idea how the pictures would be received, I -stationed armed guards at each side of the screen and around the -projector, at points from which they could cover the audience. Then I -tried to persuade my visitors to sit in front of the projector, where -they would get a good view of the screen. They were now thoroughly -suspicious and would not stay where I put them. They wanted to keep an -eye on me. They were so uneasy that I expected to see them disappear -into the bush at any moment. But Osa saved the situation. She took -Nagapate by the arm and made him sit down beside her. The rest of the -savages gathered about them. Then the show began. - -First, a great bright square flashed on the screen. Then came a hundred -feet of titles. The attention of the natives was divided between the -strange letters and the rays of white light that passed above their -heads. They looked forward and up and back toward me, jabbering all the -time. Then slowly, out of nothing, a familiar form took shape on the -screen. It was Osa, standing with bent head. The savages were silent -with amazement. Here was Osa sitting at Nagapate’s side—and there she -was on the screen. The picture-Osa raised her head and winked at them. -Pandemonium broke loose. “Osa—Osa—Osa—Osa,” shouted the savages. They -roared with laughter and screamed like rowdy children. - -I had been afraid that my guests would be frightened and bolt at the -first demonstration of my “magic,” but they had been reassured by the -familiar sight of Osa. Now they were ready for anything. I showed them a -picture of Osa and me as we left the Astor Hotel in New York. Then I -showed them the crazy thousands that had crowded New York streets on -Armistice Day. I followed this picture with glimpses of Chicago, San -Francisco, Los Angeles, Honolulu, Tokyo, and Sydney. Nagapate told me -afterward that he had not known there were so many white people in all -the world and asked me if the island I came from was much larger than -Malekula. I showed in quick succession, steamers, racing automobiles, -airplanes, elephants, ostriches, giraffes. The savages were silent; they -could not comprehend these things. So I brought them nearer home, with -pictures taken on Vao, Santo, and other islands of the New Hebrides. - -Now it was time for the great scene. I instructed Paul in turning the -crank of the projector and put Stephens and Perrole in charge of the -radium flares. I myself took my stand behind my camera, which was -trained on the audience. A hundred feet of titles—then Nagapate’s face -appeared suddenly on the screen. A great roar of “Nagapate” went up. At -that instant the radium lights flashed on, and I, at my camera, ground -out the picture of the cannibals at the “movies.” True, about two thirds -of the audience, terrified by the flares, made precipitately for the -bush. But Nagapate and the savages around him sat pat and registered -fear and amazement for my camera. In about two minutes the flares burned -out. Then we coaxed back to their places the savages that had fled. I -started the reel all over and ran it to the end amid an uproar that made -it impossible for me to make myself heard when I wanted to speak to Osa. -Practically every savage pictured on the screen was in the audience. In -two years they had not changed at all, except, as Osa said, for -additional layers of dirt. As each man appeared, they called out his -name and laughed and shouted with joy. Among the figures that came and -went on the screen was that of a man who had been dead a year. The -natives were awe-struck. My magic could bring back the dead! - -Midway in the performance I turned the projection handle over to -Mazouyer and joined the audience. Osa was crying with excitement. And -there was a lump in my own throat. We had looked forward a long time to -this. - -[Illustration: HUNTING FOR THE MAGIC] - -[Illustration: A CANNIBAL AND A KODAK] - -When the show was over, a great shout went up. The savages gathered into -groups and discussed the performance, for all the world as people do -“back home.” Then they crowded about us, demanding their pay for looking -at my pictures! As I gave them their sticks of tobacco, each grunted out -the same phrase—whether it meant “Fine,” or “Thank you,” or just -“Good-bye,” I do not know. - -While we packed our apparatus, the natives cut bamboo and made rude -torches. When all were ready, they lighted their torches at the fire -that burned on the beach, and then they set off in single file up the -trail. We said good-bye to Perrole and Stephens, who were to sail for -Santo that night, and prepared to go aboard Paul’s cutter. He had -difficulty in getting his engine started, and while he worked with it, -Osa and I sat on the beach, watching the torches of the Big Numbers -people as they filed up hill and down dale the long eight miles to their -village. The night was so dark that we could not see anything except the -string of lights that wound through the black like a fiery serpent. The -head disappeared over the top of the hill. Half an hour later, the tail -wriggled out of sight. Then the engine kicked off. - - - - - CHAPTER VII - THE NOBLE SAVAGE - - -The morning after our motion-picture show on the beach at Malekula found -us anchored off Vao. We got our luggage ashore as quickly as possible -and then turned in to make up for lost sleep. We had slept little during -our eight days in the village of Nagapate. We had been in such constant -fear of treachery that the thud of a falling coconut or the sound of a -branch crackling in the jungle would set our nerves atingle and keep us -awake for hours. Now we felt safe. We knew that the four hundred savages -of Vao, though at heart as fierce and as cruel as any of the Malekula -tribes, lived in wholesome fear of the British gunboat; so we slept well -and long. - -The next morning we said good-bye to Paul Mazouyer and he chugged away -to Santo in the little schooner that for two weeks had been our home. -Osa and I were alone on Vao. We turned back to our bungalow to make -things comfortable, for we did not know how many days it would be before -Mr. King, who had promised to call for us, would appear. - -As we walked slowly up from the beach, we heard a shout. We turned and -saw a savage running toward us. He was a man of about forty; yet he was -little larger than a child and as naked as when he was born. From his -almost unintelligible _bêche-de-mer_, we gathered that he wanted to be -our servant. We could scarcely believe our ears. Here was a man who -wanted to work! We wondered how he came to have a desire so contrary to -Vao nature, until we discovered, after a little further conversation in -_bêche-de-mer_, that he was half-witted! Since we were in need of native -help, we decided not to let his mental deficiencies stand in his way and -we hired him on the spot. Then came the first hitch. We could not find -out his name. Over and over, we asked him, “What name belong you?” but -with no result. He shook his head uncomprehendingly. Finally, Osa -pointed to the tracks he had left in the sand. They led down to the -shore and vanished at the water’s edge. “His name is Friday,” she said -triumphantly. And so we called him. - -From that moment, Friday was a member of our household. We gave him a -singlet and a _lava-lava_, or loin-cloth, of red calico, and from -somewhere he dug up an ancient derby hat. Some mornings he presented -himself dressed in nothing but the hat. He was always on hand bright and -early, begging for work, but, unfortunately, there was nothing that he -could do. We tried him at washing clothes, and they appeared on the line -dirtier than they had been before he touched them. We tried him at -carrying water, but he brought us liquid mud, with sticks and leaves -floating on the top. The only thing he was good for was digging bait and -paddling the canoe gently to keep it from drifting while Osa fished. - -That was, indeed, a service of some value; for Osa was an indefatigable -fisherwoman. Every day, she went out and brought back from ten to thirty -one- and two-pound fish, and one day she caught two great fish that must -have weighed ten pounds each. It took the combined efforts of Friday and -herself to land them. - -I am convinced that, for bright color and strange markings, there are no -fish in the world like those of Vao. Osa called them Impossible Fish. -There were seldom two of the same color or shape in her day’s catch. -They were orange and red and green and silver, and sometimes -varicolored. But the most noticeable were little blue fish about the -size of sardines which went in schools of thousands through the still -sea, coloring it with streaks of the most brilliant shimmering blue you -can imagine. In addition to the Impossible Fish, there were many octopi, -which measured about three feet from tentacle to tentacle, and there -were shellfish by the thousand. On the opposite side of the island from -that on which we lived, oysters grew on the roots of mangrove trees at -the water’s edge, and at low tide we used to walk along and pick them -off as if they had been fruit. - -We worked hard for the first week or so after our return to Vao, for we -had about a hundred and fifty plates and nearly two hundred kodak films -to develop. Previous to this trip, I had been forced to develop -motion-picture films, as well as kodak films and plates, as I went -along. Like most photographers, I had depended upon a formalin solution -to harden the gelatin films and keep them from melting in the heat. -Though such a solution aids in the preservation of the film, it -interferes considerably with the quality of the picture, which often is -harsh in outline as a result of the thickening of the film, and it is -not a guarantee against mildew or against the “fogging” of negatives. -Before starting for the New Hebrides, however, I had worked out a method -of treating films that did not affect the quality of the picture, and -yet made it possible to develop films successfully at a temperature much -higher than 65°. Still better, it permitted me to seal my film after -exposure and await a favorable opportunity for developing. Only lately I -have developed in a New York workshop films that were exposed nineteen -months ago in the New Hebrides and that were carried about for several -months under the blaze of a tropical sun. They are among the best -pictures I have ever taken. - -Any one who has tried motion-picture photography in the tropics will -realize what it means to be freed from the burden of developing all -films on the spot. To work from three o’clock until sunrise, after a day -of hard work in enervating heat, is usually sheer agony. Many a time I -have gone through with the experience only to see the entire result of -my work ruined by an accident. I have hung up a film to dry (in the -humid atmosphere of the tropics drying often requires forty-eight hours -instead of half as many minutes) and found it covered with tiny insects -or bits of sand or pollen blown against it by the wind and embedded deep -in the gelatin. I have covered it with mosquito-net in an effort to -avoid a repetition of the tragedy and the mosquito-net has shut off the -air and caused the gelatin to melt. I have had films mildew and thicken -and cloud and spot, in spite of every effort to care for them. On this -trip, though even so simple an operation as the changing of -motion-picture film and the sealing of negatives was an arduous task -when it had to be performed in cramped quarters, it was a great relief -to be able to seal up my film and forget it after exposure. The plates -that I used in my small camera had to be promptly attended to, however, -for to have treated them as I treated the motion-picture film would have -meant adding considerably to the bulk and weight of the equipment we -were forced to carry about with us. - -We worked at the developing several hours a day, and between times we -explored the island, learning what we could of native life. Arree, the -boy who acted as our maid-of-all-work, supplied me with native words -until I had a fairly respectable vocabulary, but, when I tried to use -it, I made the interesting discovery that the old men and the young men -spoke different tongues. Language changes rapidly among savage tribes. -No one troubles to get the correct pronunciation of a word. The younger -generation adopt abbreviations or new words at will and incorporate into -their speech strange corruptions of English or French words learned from -the whites. Some of the words I learned from Arree were absolutely -unintelligible to many of the older men. I found, too, that the language -varied considerably from village to village, and though many of the Vao -men were refugees from Malekula, it was very different from that of any -of the tribes on the big island. I once estimated the number of -languages spoken in the South Seas at four hundred. I am now convinced -that as many as that are used by the black races alone. - -As we poked about Vao, we decided that the island would be a good place -in which to maroon the people who have the romantic illusion that -savages lead a beautiful life. We had long ago lost that illusion, but -even for us Vao had some surprises. One day, I made a picture of an old, -blind man, so feeble that he could scarcely walk. He was one of the few -really old savages about, and I gathered that he must have been a -powerful chief in his day, or otherwise he would not have escaped the -ordinary penalty of age—being buried alive. But on the day after I had -taken his picture, when I went to his hut to speak to him, I was -informed that “he stop along ground” and I was shown a small hut, in -which was a freshly dug grave. My notice of the old man had drawn him -into the limelight. The chiefs had held a conference and decided that he -was a nuisance. A grave was dug for him, he was put into it, a flat -stone was placed over his face so that he could breathe (!), and the -hole was filled with earth. Now a devil-devil man was squatting near the -grave to be on hand in case the old man asked for something. There was -no conscious cruelty in the act, simply a relentless logic. The old man -had outlived his usefulness. He was no good to himself or to the -community. Therefore, he might as well “stop along ground.” - -Only a few days later, as we approached a village, we heard, at -intervals, the long-drawn-out wail of a woman in pain. In the clearing -we discovered a group of men laughing and jeering at something that was -lying on the ground. That something was a writhing, screaming young -girl. The cause of her agony was apparent. In the flesh back of her -knee, two great holes had been burned. I could have put both hands in -either of them. - -“One fellow man, him name belong Nowdi, he ketchem plenty coconuts, he -ketchem plenty pigs, he ketchem plenty Mary,” said Arree, and he went on -to explain that the “Mary” on the ground was the newest wife of Nowdi, -whom he pointed out to us among the amused spectators. The savage had -paid twenty pigs for her—a good price for a wife in the New Hebrides—but -he had made a bad bargain; for the girl did not like him. Four times she -ran away from him and was caught and brought back. The last time, nearly -six months had elapsed before she was found, hiding in the jungle of the -mainland. The day before we saw the girl, the men of the village had -gathered in judgment. A stone was heated white-hot. Then four men held -the girl while a fifth placed the stone in the hollow of her knee, drew -her leg back until the heel touched the thigh, and bound it there. For -an hour they watched her anguish as the stone slowly burned into her -flesh. Then they turned her loose. Thenceforth she would always have to -hobble, like an old woman, with the aid of a stick. She would never run -away again. - -We turned aside, half sick. It was hard for me to keep my hands off the -brutes that stood laughing around the girl. Only the knowledge that to -touch them would be suicide for me and death or worse for Osa held me -back. But as we returned to the bungalow, I gradually cooled down. I -realized that it was not quite fair to judge these savages—still in the -stage of development passed by our own ancestors hundreds of thousands -of years ago—according to the standards of civilized society. And I -remembered how beastly even men of my own kind sometimes are when they -are released from the restraints of civilization. - -The next morning, after our morning swim, Osa and I sat on the beach and -watched the commuters set off for Malekula. In some fifty canoes, -“manned” by women, the entire female population went to the big island -every day to gather firewood and fruit and vegetables. For the small -island of Vao could not support its four hundred inhabitants, and the -native women had accordingly made their gardens on the big island. This -morning, as usual, the women were accompanied by an armed guard; for -although the bush natives of Malekula were supposed to be friendly, the -Vao men did not take any chances when it came to a question of losing -their women. Late in the evening the canoes came back again. The women -had worked all day, many of them with children strapped to their backs; -the men had lounged on the beach, doing nothing. But it was the women -who paddled the canoes home. There was a stiff sea and it took nearly -three hours to paddle across the mile-wide channel. But the men never -lifted a finger to help. When the boats were safely beached, the women -shouldered their big bundles of vegetables and firewood and trudged -wearily toward their villages, the men bringing up the rear, with -nothing to carry except their precious guns. Among the poor female -slaves—they were little more—we saw five who hobbled along with the aid -of sticks. They were women who had tried to run away. - -A few days later, Arree asked us if we should like to attend a feast -that was being held to celebrate the completion of a devil-devil, one of -the crude, carved logs that are the only visible signs of religion among -the savages. We did not see why that should be an event worth -celebrating, for there were already some hundreds of devil-devils on the -island, but we were glad to have the opportunity of witnessing one of -the feasts of which Arree had so often told us. - -[Illustration: NAGAPATE AMONG THE DEVIL-DEVILS] - -Feasting was about the only amusement of the natives of Vao. A birth or -a death, the building of a house or a canoe, or the installation of a -chief—any event in the least out of the ordinary furnished an excuse for -an orgy of pig meat—usually “long.” The one we attended was typical. -First the new devil-devil was carried into the clearing and, with scant -ceremony, set up among the others. Then some of the men brought out -about a hundred pigs and tied them to posts. Others piled hundreds of -yams in the center of the clearing, and still others threw chickens, -their legs tied together, in a squawking heap. When all was ready, the -yams were divided among the older men, each of whom then untied a pig -from a post and presented it solemnly to his neighbor, receiving in -return another pig of about the same size. The savages broke one front -and one hind leg of their pigs and threw the squealing little beasts on -the ground beside the yams. Then they exchanged chickens and promptly -broke the legs and wings of their fowls. I shall never forget the -terrible crunching of bones and the screaming of the tortured pigs and -chickens. When the exchange was completed, the men took their pigs to -the center of the clearing, beat them over the head with sticks until -they were nearly dead and threw them down to squeal and jerk their lives -away. - -When the exchange of food was completed, the men built little fires all -around the clearing to cook the feast. Most of them were chiefs. It is a -general rule throughout the region that no chief may eat food prepared -by an inferior, or cooked over a fire built by an inferior. The rather -doubtful honor of being his own cook is, indeed, practically the only -mark that distinguishes a chief. As a rule a chief has no real -authority. He cannot command the least important boy in his village. -Only his wives are at his beck and call—and they are forbidden by custom -to cook for him! - -Chieftainship is an empty honor on Vao. If the biggest chief on the -island should start off on a hunting trip and forget his knife, he would -know better than to ask the poorest boy in the party to go back for it, -for he would know in advance that the answer would be most emphatic Vao -equivalent for “go chase yourself!” Yet a chieftaincy is sufficiently -flattering to the vanity of the incumbent to be worth many pigs. The pig -is more important in the New Hebrides than anywhere else in the world. A -man’s wealth is reckoned in pigs, and a woman’s beauty is rated -according to the number of pigs she will bring. The greatest chiefs on -Vao are those who have killed the most pigs. Even in that remote region -there is political corruption, for some men are not above buying pigs in -secret to add to their “bag” and their prestige. Tethlong, who, during -our stay on the island, was the most important chief on Vao, bought five -hundred porkers to be slaughtered for the feast that made him chief. All -the natives knew he had bought the pigs; but they hailed him solemnly, -nevertheless, as the great pig-killer. - -Tethlong had as fine a collection of pigs’ tusks as I have ever seen. -These fierce-looking bits of ivory did not come off the wild pigs, -however, but were carefully cultivated on the snouts of domesticated -pigs. It is the custom throughout the New Hebrides to take young pigs -and gouge out two upper teeth, so as to make room for the lower canine -teeth to develop into tusks. The most valuable tusks are those that have -grown up and curled around so as to form two complete circles. These, -however, are very rare. The New Hebridean native considers himself well -off if he has a single circlet to wear as a bracelet or nose ring and he -takes pride in a collection of ordinary, crescent-shaped tusks. - -Pigs’ tusks are the New Hebridean equivalent of money. For even among -savages, there are rich and poor. The man of wealth is the one who has -the largest number of pigs and wives and coconut trees and canoes, -acquired by judicious swapping or by purchase, with pigs’ tusks, rare, -orange-colored cowries, and stones of strange shape or coloring as -currency. Most natives keep such treasures in “bokkus belong bell”—a -Western-made box with a bell that rings whenever the lid is lifted. But -this burglar-alarm is utterly superfluous, for natives uncontaminated by -civilization never steal. - -Osa refused to watch the process of preparing the pigs and fowls for -broiling. It was not a pretty sight. But it was speedily over. While the -cooking was in progress, the dancing began. A group of men in the center -of the clearing went through the motions of killing pigs and birds and -men. Each tried to get across the footlights the idea that he was a -great, strong man. And though the pantomime was crude, it was effective. -The barbaric swing of the dancers, in time to the strange rhythm beaten -out on the boo-boos—the hollowed logs that serve as drums—got into my -blood, and I understood how the dances sometimes ended in an almost -drunken frenzy. - -When the first group of dancers were tired, the older men gathered in -the center of the clearing and palavered excitedly. Then they retired to -their fires and waited. So did we. But nothing happened save another -dance. This was different in detail from the first. I never saw a native -do exactly the same dance twice, though in essentials each is -monotonously similar to the last. When the second dance was over, there -was more palavering and then more dancing—and so on interminably. Osa -and I grew sleepy and went back to the bungalow. But the tom-toms -sounded until dawn. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - GOOD-BYE TO NAGAPATE - - -The Euphrosyne, with the British Commissioner aboard, was about two -weeks overdue and we were growing impatient to be off. It was not the -Euphrosyne, however, but the queerest vessel I have ever seen, that -anchored off Vao, one night at midnight. She was about the size of a -large schooner and nearly as wide in the beam as she was long. She had -auxiliary sails, schooner-rigged. Her engine burned wood. And her -name—as we discovered later—was Amour. Queer as she was, she was a -Godsend to us, marooned on Vao. We went out in a canoe and found, to our -surprise, that the commander and owner was Captain Moran, whom we had -met in the Solomons two years before. We asked him where he was bound -for. He said that he had no particular destination; he was out to get -copra wherever he could get it. I proposed that he turn over his ship to -us at a daily rental, so that we could continue our search for signs of -cannibalism among the tribes of Malekula. He assented readily. Osa and I -were delighted, for we knew that there wasn’t a better skipper than -Captain Moran in the South Seas. Both he and his brother, who acted as -engineer, were born in the islands and had spent their lives in -wandering from one group to another. They knew the treacherous channels -as well as any whites in those waters, and they knew the natives, too, -from long experience as traders. - -The next morning, while the crew of the schooner were cutting wood for -fuel, we packed our supplies on board the Amour. When all was ready, we -pulled up anchor, set the sails, and started the engine. After a few -grunts, the propeller began to turn, and we were on our way. - -Her ungainly shape served to make the Amour seaworthy, but it did not -conduce to speed. We wheezed along at a rate of three knots an hour. -Though we left Vao at dawn, it was nearly dark when we again reached -Tanemarou Bay, the “seaport” of the Big Numbers territory. There was no -one on the beach, but we discharged a stick of dynamite and rolled -ourselves in our blankets, sure that there would be plenty of natives on -hand to greet us next morning. - -We slept soundly, in spite of the pigs that roamed the deck, and were -awakened at daylight by cries. About a hundred savages had gathered on -the beach. We lost no time in landing, but to our disappointment, -Nagapate had not come down to greet us. Only Velle-Velle, the prime -minister, was on hand, I and he was in a difficult mood. He gave me to -understand that I had slighted him, on my previous visit, in my -distribution of presents. I soon averted his displeasure with plenty of -tobacco and the strangest and most wonderful plaything he had ever had—a -football. It was a sight for sore eyes to see that dignified old savage, -who ordinarily was as pompous as any Western prime minister, kicking his -football about the beach. - -At about ten o’clock, I took a few boys and went inland to get some -pictures. Osa wanted to accompany me, but I set my foot down on it. I -knew there was no danger for myself, but I felt that Nagapate’s interest -in her made it unsafe for her to venture. I went to the top of a hill a -few miles back, where I made some fine pictures of the surrounding -country, and was lucky enough to get a group of savages coming over the -ridge of another hill about half a mile away. My guides became panicky -when they saw the newcomers, and insisted that we return to the beach at -once, but I held firm until the last savage on the opposite hill had -been lost to sight in the jungle. Then with enough film to justify my -morning’s climb, I returned to the beach. - -On the following morning, Nagapate made his appearance, and told me, -through Atree, that he had brought his wives to see Osa. I sent the boat -to the schooner for her, but when she appeared, Nagapate said that his -wives could not come to the beach and that Osa, accordingly, must go -inland as far as the first river to meet them. I did not like the idea, -but decided that no possible harm could come to her if the armed crew of -the Amour and Captain Moran and I accompanied her. It turned out that my -distrust of Nagapate was again unjustified. We found the wives waiting -at the designated spot with sugar-cane and yams and a nice, new Big -Numbers dress for Osa. They had not come to the beach because the newest -wife was not permitted to look at the sea for a certain time after -marriage—which seemed to me to carry the taboo on water a bit too far. - -Osa was pleased to add the Big Numbers dress to her collection of -strange things from Melanesia. And indeed it was quite a gift. For in -spite of their apparent simplicity, the making and dyeing of the -pandanus garments is a complicated process. Since the grass will not -take the dye if it is the least green, it has to be dried and washed and -dried again. When it is thoroughly bleached, it is dyed deep purple. - -After Osa in turn had presented the wives with salmon and sea-biscuits -(which I afterward saw Nagapate and his men devouring) and strings of -bright-colored beads, Nagapate agreed to get his men to dance for me, if -I would come to his village. I did not relish the idea of the long trip -into the hills, but I wanted the picture. Osa returned to the schooner, -and Captain Moran and I, with five boys, went inland. We made the -village in four hours. When we arrived, I was ready to drop with -exhaustion, and lay down on the ground for half an hour to recover. -Savages squatted about me and watched me while I rested, then crowded -about me while I got my cameras ready for action. Nagapate sent out for -the men to come to the clearing, and they straggled in, sullen and -cranky. They did not want to dance, but Nagapate’s word was law. At his -command, a few men went to the great boo-boos and beat out a weird -rhythm that seemed to me to express the very essence of cannibalism. At -first the savages danced in a half-hearted fashion, but gradually they -warmed up. Soon they were doing a barbaric dance better than any I had -ever seen. They marched quickly and in perfect time around the boo-boos. -Then they stopped suddenly, with a great shout, stood for a moment -marking time with their feet, marched on again and stopped again, and so -on, the march becoming faster and faster and the shouting wilder and -more continuous, until at last the dancers had to stop from sheer -exhaustion. - -I got a fine picture, well worth the long trip up the mountains, but it -was very late before we got started beachward, accompanied by Nagapate -and a number of his men. We went down the slippery trail as fast as we -could go. I should have been afraid, in my first days in the islands, -that the boys might fall with my cameras if we went at such a rate, but -by now I had found that they were as sure-footed as mountain sheep. They -carried my heavy equipment as if it had been bags of feathers and -handled it much more carefully than I should have been able to. - -In spite of our haste, it grew dark before we reached the beach. The -boys cut dead bamboo for torches and in the uncertain light they gave, -we stumbled along. When we were within about a quarter of a mile from -the sea, we fired a volley to let Osa know that we were coming. To our -surprise, when we came out on the beach, we were greeted by Osa and -Engineer Moran and the remainder of the crew of the Amour, all armed to -the teeth. Osa was crying. It was the first time I had ever known her to -resort to tears in the face of danger. But when she learned that we were -all there and safe, and that the volley had been a signal of our -approach and not an indication that we had been attacked, her tears -dried and she scolded me roundly for having frightened her. - -I went to the boat and got a crate of biscuits and a small bag of rice -and took them back to Nagapate for a feast for him and his men. Then I -said good-bye. I believe that the old cannibal was really sorry to see -us go—and not only for the sake of the presents we had given him. Some -day I am going back to see him once more. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - THE MONKEY PEOPLE - - -At daylight we pulled anchor and set the sails and started the engine. -With the wind to help us, we made good progress. In three hours we had -reached our next anchorage, a small bay said to be the last frequented -by the Big Numbers people. We were in the territory of the largest tribe -on the west side of Malekula. Moran told me that no white man had ever -penetrated the bush and that the people were very shy and wild. We -landed, but saw no signs of savages. We thought we had the beach to -ourselves, and I set about making pictures of a beautiful little river, -all overhung with ferns and palms, that ran into the sea at one side of -the bay. As I worked, one of the boys ran up to me and told me in very -frightened _bêche-de-mer_ that he had seen “plenty big fellow man along -bush,” and we beat a hasty retreat from the river, with its beautiful -vegetation, well fitted for concealing savages. - -I was very anxious to secure some photographs of the savages, and all -the more so because they were said to be so difficult of approach, so I -walked along the beach until I came to a trail leading into the -interior. It was easy to locate the trail, for it was like a tunnel -leading into the dark jungle. At its mouth, I set up my camera, attached -a telephoto lens, bundled up a handful of tobacco in a piece of calico, -placed my bait at the entrance of the trail, and waited. A half-hour -passed, but nothing happened. Then, quick as a wink, a savage darted -out, seized the bundle and disappeared before I had time to take hold of -the crank of my camera. My trap had worked too well. Now I was -determined to get results, so I had our armed crew withdraw to the edge -of the beach and asked Captain Moran and Osa to set their guns against a -rock so that the savages could see that we were not armed. I knew that, -in case of emergency, we could use the pistols in our pockets. Then I -sat down on my camera case and waited. At noon we sent one of the boys -back to the boat for some tinned lunch. We ate with our eyes on the -trail. It was two o’clock before four savages, with guns gripped tight -in their hands, came cautiously out of the jungle, ready to run at the -first alarm. I advanced slowly, so as not to frighten them, holding out -a handful of tobacco and clay pipes. They timidly took my presents, and -I tried to make them understand, by friendly gestures and soft words, -which they did not comprehend, that we could not harm them. To make a -long story short, I worked all afternoon to gain their confidence—and it -was work wasted, for I could get no action from them. They simply stood -like hitching-posts and let me take pictures all around them. At sundown -we went back to the ship, with nothing to show for our day’s effort. - -Next morning, we set sail betimes. It did not take us long to reach -Lambumba Bay, on the narrow isthmus that connects northern and southern -Malekula. I had been anxious to visit this region, for I had heard -conflicting tales concerning it. Some said that it was inhabited by -nomad tribes; others said that the nomads were a myth—that the region -was uninhabited. I wanted to see for myself. So I instructed Captain -Moran to find a good anchorage, where the ship would be sheltered in -case a westerly wind should spring up. I wanted him to feel safe in -leaving the Amour in charge of a couple of blacks, for I needed him and -his brother and the majority of the crew to accompany us into the -interior. We found a small cove at the mouth of a stream and with the -kedge anchor we drew the Amour in until the branches of the trees hung -over the decks. At high tide we pulled the bow of the schooner up into -the sand. At low tide she was almost high and dry, and she was safe from -any ordinary blow. Since this was not the hurricane season, no great -storm was to be expected. In the evening, Osa made up the lunch-bags for -the following day, and early next morning, we struck inland along a -well-beaten trail. We followed this trail all day, but we saw no signs -of natives. Next day we took a second trail, which crossed the first. -Again we met no one. But we found baskets hanging from a banian and the -embers of a fire, still alive under a blanket of ashes. - -Though we were accomplishing nothing, we were having a very enjoyable -time, for this was the most beautiful part of Malekula we had seen. The -trails were well-beaten and for the most part followed small streams -that cut an opening in the dense jungle to let the breeze through. Here, -as elsewhere, we were surrounded by gay tropical birds, and in the trees -hung lovely orchids. Osa kept the boys busy climbing after the flowers. -They were plainly amazed at the whim of this white “Mary,” who filled -gasoline tins with useless flowers, but they obeyed her willingly -enough, and she, with arms full of the delicate blossoms, declared that -she was willing to spend a month looking for the savages. - -We discovered them, however, sooner than that. On the third morning we -took a new trail. We were walking along very slowly. I was in the lead. -I turned a sharp corner around a big banian—and all but collided with a -savage. The savage was as astonished as I, but he got his wits back more -quickly than I did mine, and flitted off into the jungle as quietly as a -butterfly. When the others came, I could scarcely make them believe that -I had seen him; for he left no trail in the underbrush, and they had not -heard a sound. In the hope of surprising other natives, we agreed to -stay close together and to make as little noise as possible. In about -half an hour four natives appeared on the brow of a low hill, directly -in front of us. They, too, turned at the sight of us and ran off. - -We followed along the trail by which they had disappeared. In about -fifteen minutes we stopped to rest near a great banian. Now the banian, -which is characteristic of this section of Malekula, begins as a -parasite seedling that takes root in a palm or some other tree. This -seedling grows and sends out branches, which drop ropelike tendrils to -the ground. The tendrils take root and gradually thicken into trunks. -The new trunks send out other branches, which in turn drop their -tendrils, and so on, indefinitely. The banian near which we had stopped -was some twenty feet in diameter. Its many trunks grew close together -and it was covered with a crown of great heart-shaped leaves. Since -conditions seemed favorable for a picture, I got a camera ready and -turned to the tree to study the lights and shadows before I adjusted the -shutters. As I grew accustomed to the light, I saw dimly, peering from -behind the tendrils, four intent black faces. We had caught up with the -men we had surprised on the trail. - -I spent an hour in trying to coax them into the open. I held out toward -them the things most coveted by the natives of the New Hebrides—tobacco, -salt, a knife, a piece of red calico. But they did not stir. I made an -attractive heap of presents on the ground and we all stood back, hoping -that the shy savages would pick up courage to come out and examine them. -But they refused to be tempted. At last I lost patience and ordered the -boys to surround the banian. When I was sure that we had the natives -cornered, I went under the tree and hunted around among its many trunks -for my captives. There was not a sign of them. But in the center of the -banian was an opening in which hung long ladders fashioned from the -tendrils. The savages had escaped over the tops of the trees. We did not -get another glimpse of them that day, but when we returned to the Amour, -we saw footprints in the sand of the beach. And the two boys we had left -in charge said that a number of savages had inspected the vessel from a -distance, disappearing into the jungle just before our arrival. - -[Illustration: ONE OF THE MONKEY MEN] - -I was convinced by this time that we had really discovered the nomads, -but I began to despair of ever getting a close-up of them. Early next -morning, however, as we were eating breakfast, a native who might have -been twin brother to those of the banian marched boldly down the beach -and up to the side of the ship. In bad _bêche-de-mer_ he asked us who we -were and where we came from and what we wanted. We learned that he had -been “blackbirded” off to Queensland long before and had made his way -back home after a year’s absence. He knew all about the white men and -their ways, he told us, and proved it by asking for tobacco. - -I gladly got out some tobacco and gave it to him. Then he informed us -that he had no pipe and I made him happy with a clay pipe and a box of -matches. - -I invited him to come on board, but he refused; one “blackbirding” -experience had been enough for him. He squatted on the sand, within -talking distance, and told us what a great man he was. He was the only -one of his tribe who knew “talk belong white man.” He was a famous -fighter. The enemies of his people ran when they saw him. He had killed -many men and many pigs. He recited his virtues over and over, utterly -ignoring my questions about his people. But finally I succeeded in -extracting from him an agreement to guide us to the headquarters of his -tribe. - -When we stood on the shore, ready to go, Nella—for that was the name of -our visitor—looked Osa over from head to foot. She wore her usual jungle -costume of khaki breeches and high boots. When he had completed his -inspection, he turned to me and said wisely, “Me savvy. He Mary belong -you.” Then, adding in a business-like tone, “Me think more better you -bringem altogether tobacco,” he turned and led the way into the jungle. - -He took us along one of the trails that we had followed in vain during -the preceding days. But presently he turned off into another trail that -we had not noticed. The entrance was masked with cane-grass. After about -ten feet, however, the path was clean and well-beaten. When we had -passed through the cane, Nella returned and carefully straightened out -the stalks that we had trampled down. - -When we had traversed a mile or so of trail, Nella called a halt and -disappeared into the depths of a banian. Soon he returned, followed by -three young savages and an old man, who was nearer to a monkey than any -human being I have ever seen before or since—bright eyes peering out -from a shock of woolly hair; an enormous mouth disclosing teeth as white -and perfect as those of a dental advertisement; skin creased with deep -wrinkles; an alert, nervous, monkey-like expression; quick, sure, -monkey-like movements. He approached us carefully, ready to turn and run -at the slightest alarm. I endeavored to shake hands with him, but he -jerked his hand away. The friendly greeting had no meaning for him. My -presents, however, talked to him. Reassured by them and the voluble -Nella, who was greatly enjoying his position as master of ceremonies, -the savages squatted near us. - -I began digging after information, but information was hard to get. -Nella preferred asking questions to answering them. All that I could -learn from him was that there were many savages in the vicinity and that -we would see them all in due time. - -The conversation became one-sided. The five savages sat and discussed us -in their own language of growls and ape-like chattering. They tried to -examine the rifles carried by our boys, but the boys were afraid to let -their guns out of their hands. Osa, more confident, explained to the -savages the working of her repeater. Then they focused their attention -on her. They felt her boots and grunted admiringly. They fingered her -blond hair and carefully touched her skin, giving strange little -whistles of awe. Osa was used to such attentions from savages and took -them as a matter of course. - -In spite of their grotesque appearance, there was little that was -terrifying about our new acquaintances. They seemed not at all warlike. -Only two of the five carried weapons, the one a bow and arrow, the other -a club. I was interested to observe that the old man, who apparently was -a chief, wore the Big Numbers costume—a great clout of pandanus -fiber—while the others were still more lightly clothed according to the -style in vogue among the Small Numbers. I tried to find out the reason -for the variation. But Nella was not interested in my questions. -Finally, I realized that there was no use in trying to get information -in a hurry. Time means nothing to savages. We examined the banian from -which our visitors had come. Like the tree we had seen on the previous -day, it had a hole in the center, in which hung a ladder for hasty -exits. Empty baskets, hung from the branches, showed that the place was -much frequented. - -After a while about twenty natives came along the trail. They joined the -five natives already with us, and the examination of us and our -belongings began all over. Osa went among the newcomers with her kodak, -taking snapshots, and I set up my moving-picture camera on a tripod, -selected a place where the light was good, and tried to get the savages -in front of my lens. They would not move; so I pointed my camera at them -and began to turn the crank. Like lightning, they sprang to their feet -and ran to the banian. They scampered up the tendrils like monkeys, and -by the time I could follow them with the camera, I could see only their -bright eyes here and there peering from the crevices. - -Through Nella we coaxed them back, and down they came, as quickly as -they had gone up, while I ground out one of the best pictures I ever -got. Osa at once dubbed them the “monkey people.” And indeed they were -nearer monkeys than men. They had enormous flat feet, with the great toe -separated from the other toes and turned in. They could grasp a branch -with their feet as easily as I could with my hands. For speed and -sureness and grace in climbing, they outdid any other men I had ever -seen. - -When luncheon-time came, we spread out our meal of cold broiled -wood-pigeon, tinned asparagus, and sea-biscuit and began to eat. After -watching us for a few moments, two or three savages went and fetched -some small almond-like nuts, which they shared with their companions. -They seemed more like monkeys than ever as they squatted there, busily -cracking the nuts with stones and picking out the meats with their -skinny fingers. - -By dint of many presents, I won the confidence of the chief and, before -the afternoon was over, I was calling him by his first and only name, -which was, as near as I can spell it phonetically, Wo-bang-an-ar. He was -a strange crony. He was covered with layer after layer of dirt. No one -who has not been among savage tribes can image a human being so filthy. -His hair had never been combed or cut; it was matted with dirt and -grease. His eyes were protruding and bloodshot and they were never -still. His glance darted from one to another of us and back again. But, -like Nagapate, he proved to be a real chief, and his people jumped -whenever he gave a command. He ordered them to do whatever I asked, and -I made pictures all the afternoon. - -[Illustration: WO-BANG-AN-AR] - -That night we slept in the banian, and next day Nella led us through the -jungle to a clearing some five miles distant. There we found about a -hundred men, women, and children. All of them, save Wo-bang-an-ar, who -had his food supplied to him by his subjects, looked thin and drawn. -Some of the men wore the Big Numbers costume, some that of the Small -Numbers. The women wore the usual Small Numbers dress of a few leaves. A -few men carried old rifles, but they had only about half a dozen -cartridges among them; a few others had bows and arrows or clubs, but -the majority were unarmed. This seemed strange, in the light of our -experience among the tribes of northern Malekula, but even stranger was -the fact that these people had no houses or huts—no dwellings of any -kind. They lived in the banians. Sometimes they put a few leaves over -the protruding roots as a shelter from rain. Occasionally, they built -against the great central trunk of the tree a rough lean-to of sticks -and leaves. Beyond that they made no attempt at constructing houses. - -During the three days we spent among them, I picked up fragments of -their history, which runs somewhat as follows: - -Years ago, before the white men came to Malekula, there were many more -people on the island than there are to-day. In the north and in the -south there were great tribes, who were fierce and warlike. They fell -upon the people who dwelt in the isthmus, and destroyed their villages. -Again and again this happened. The tribes that lived in the isthmus grew -smaller and smaller. Their men were killed and their women were carried -off. Finally the few that were left no longer dared to build villages; -for a village served merely to advertise their whereabouts to their -enemies. They became nomads, living in trees. They even ceased the -cultivation of gardens and depended for their food on wild fruits and -nuts, the roots of trees, and an occasional bit of fish. Their number -was augmented from time to time by refugees from the Big Numbers tribes -on the north and from the Small Numbers on the south—a fact that -explained the variation in dress we had noticed. They were unarmed, -because their best means of defense was flight. They could not stand -against their warlike neighbors, but they could elude them by climbing -trees and losing themselves in the dark, impenetrable jungles. - - - - - CHAPTER X - THE DANCE OF THE PAINTED SAVAGES - - -After three days among the nomads, we decided that there was no -cannibalism among a people so mild and spiritless, and so we packed our -belongings and set off for the Amour. We thought we had half a day’s -journey ahead of us, but to our surprise we reached the ship in less -than two hours. Nella, to be on the safe side, had led us to the -headquarters of the tribe by a circuitous route. - -It was high tide when we reached the beach; so we took the opportunity -of getting the Amour off the sand. A good breeze took us rapidly down -the coast. At nightfall we started the engine and by midnight we had -anchored in Southwest Bay. - -[Illustration: SOUTHWEST BAY] - -The next morning, at daybreak, we were surrounded by natives in canoes, -with fruit and yams and fish for sale. Since the fish were old and -smelly, we decided to catch some fresh ones by the dynamite method in -use throughout the South Seas wherever there are white men to employ -their “magic”! We lowered the two whaleboats. I set my camera in one and -lashed the other alongside to steady my boat which bobbed about a good -bit as it was, but not enough to spoil the picture. I next set the -natives to hunting for a school of fish. In a few moments they signaled -that they had found one. We approached slowly and quietly and threw the -dynamite. It exploded with a roar and sent a spout of water several feet -into the air. After the water had quieted, the fish began to appear. -Soon some three hundred mullets, killed from the concussion, were -floating on the surface and the natives jumped overboard and began to -gather the fish into their canoes. Suddenly one of the blacks yelled in -terror. He scrambled into his canoe and his companions did likewise. I -saw the dark edge of a shark’s fin coming through the water. He was an -enormous shark and in his wake came a dozen others. They made the water -boil as they gobbled down our catch. Captain Moran seized his gun and -put a bullet through the nose of one of the largest of them. The shark -leaped ten feet out of the water, and in huge jumps made for the open -sea, lashing the water into foam with his tail every time he touched the -surface. I got some fine pictures. - -Before the sun was up, we were well on our way, with an escort of a -dozen canoes. The river was broad and beautiful. On one side was a sandy -beach. On the other was jungle, clear to the water’s edge. After we had -paddled for about two miles, we came unexpectedly into a lagoon about -three miles long and two wide, and dotted with tiny, jungled islands. As -we were making pictures of the lovely scene, several natives came out in -canoes and invited us to land. They were the first of the long-headed -people that we had seen. Their heads were about half as long again as -they should have been and sloped off to a rounded point. We landed and -visited several villages, each consisting of no more than three or four -tumble-down huts. There were a few wretched, naked women, a half-dozen -skinny children, and several half-starved pigs about. Some of the women -had strapped to their backs babies who wore the strange baskets that -mould their heads into the fashionable shape. One of these baskets is -put on the head of each child when it is about three days old. First a -cloth woven from human hair is fitted over the head. This is soaked with -coconut oil to soften the skull. Then, after a few days, the basket is -put on, and the soft skull immediately takes on the elongated shape -desired. The basket is woven of coconut fiber in such a manner that the -strands can be tightened day after day, until the bones are too hard to -be further compressed. When the child is a year old, the basket is taken -off. - -In time gone by, the lagoon tribes, like the “monkey people,” had -suffered much from wars. The few survivors had lost interest in life. -They no longer repaired their houses. Their devil-devils were falling -into decay. The clearings, instead of being beaten hard, as is usually -the case, were overgrown with grass; for dances and ceremonies were rare -among these sadly disheartened folk. - -Inside the houses were gruesome ornaments. Human heads, dried and -smoked, hung from the rafters or leered from the ends of the poles on -which they were impaled. In some houses there were mummified bodies, -with pigs’ tusks in the place of feet. Somehow, in the general -atmosphere of decay, these things seemed pitiful rather than terrifying. - -When we returned to the beach, a little after dark, the boys told us -that scores of natives, well armed and painted in war-colors, had spent -a day on the beach on the opposite side of the bay. As soon as it was -daylight, we embarked in the whaleboat to look for them. For about five -miles, we ran along the coast without seeing a trace of a human being. -The jungle came down to the water’s edge and dangled its vines in the -water. But at last we came to a long, sandy beach well packed down by -bare feet. A number of baskets hung from the trees at the edge of the -jungle. We headed the boat for the shore, but just before she ran her -nose into the sand, some twenty savages emerged without warning from the -bush. One glance, and our boys frantically put out to sea again. We were -thankful enough for their presence of mind, for the natives were a -terrifying sight. Their faces and heads were striped with white lime; -their black bodies were dotted with spots of red, yellow, blue, and -white, and their bushy hair bristled with feathers. They all carried -guns. How many of them had bullets was another question—but we did not -care to experiment to find the answer. - -When we were about fifty feet from shore, I called a halt and tried to -get into communication with the natives. I had small success. They kept -saying something over and over, but what it was, I could not understand. -The tide carried us up the coast and the men followed at the water’s -edge. Finally, realizing that we did not trust them, they went back to -the jungle and leaned their guns against a tree. Then they came down to -the water-line again, and we rowed inshore until the bow of our boat was -anchored in the sand. - -[Illustration: WOMAN AND CHILD OF THE LONG-HEADS, TOMMAN] - -The savages waded out to us. Our boys held their guns ready for action; -for the visitors were certainly a nasty-looking lot. They were as naked -as when they were born, and they had great, slobbery mouths that seemed -to bespeak many a cannibal feast. They begged for tobacco and I gave -each of them a stick and a clay pipe. Then one of them, who spoke a -little _bêche-de-mer_, told us that a big feast was taking place at a -village about three miles inland. He and his companions were waiting for -the boo-boos to announce that it was time for them to put in an -appearance. - -I decided, and Captain Moran and his brother agreed with me, that there -would be no danger in attending the ceremony. From what I could extract -from the natives, I gathered that there would not be more than a hundred -and fifty persons present. Our black boys seemed willing to make the -trip—a good sign, for they were quick to scent danger and determined in -avoiding it, so we landed. - -Experience had taught me that the possession of a rifle does not -necessarily make a native dangerous, and, sure enough, when I examined -the guns leaning against the tree, I found that only four of the guns -had cartridges. The rest were all too old and rusty to shoot. - -Twenty savages led us inland over a good trail. Before we had walked -half an hour, we could hear the boom of the boo-boos. I have never been -able to get used to that sound. Often as I have heard it, it sends a -chill down my spine. After an hour, it began to get on my nerves. By -that time we had reached the foot of a steep hill, and our escort told -us that they could go no farther until they were summoned. We went on -alone, the sound of the boo-boos growing louder and more terrifying with -each step. Osa began to wonder about the advisability of bursting on the -natives unannounced. She hinted vaguely that it might be wise to return -to the boat. But we kept on. - -It was a hard climb. We had to stop several times to rest. The revolvers -that Osa and I carried in our hip pockets seemed heavy as lead. At last, -however, we made the top of the hill, and found ourselves at the edge of -a clearing about a quarter of a mile in diameter. In the center, around -a collection of huge boo-boos and devil-devils, were a thousand naked -savages. That was my first estimate. A little later I divided the number -in two, but even at that, there were more savages than I had ever before -seen at one time. And they were the fiercest-looking lot I had ever laid -my eyes on. White lead, calcimine, red paint, and common bluing are -among the most valued trade articles in this region, and the savages had -invested heavily in them, and besides had added to their make-up boxes -yellow ocher and coral lime and ghastly purple ashes. Every single one -had a gun or a bow and arrows, and looked as if he would use it at very -slight provocation. - -As we appeared, the boom of the boo-boos ceased. The savages who had -been dancing stopped. Every eye was turned on us. After a moment’s -silence, all the natives began to talk. Then a number separated -themselves from the mob, and, led by an old man who was smeared with -yellow ocher from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet, -approached us. - -The old man spoke to us severely in _bêche-de-mer_, asking our business. - -“We walk about, no more,” I explained humbly. “We bringem presents for -big fellow master belong village.” - -The haughty old man then informed us that, though he himself was the -biggest chief of all, there were many other chiefs present, and that I -must make presents to all of them. He was not at all polite about it. He -said “must” and he meant “must.” I took one glance at the hundreds of -fierce, painted faces in the clearing, and then I had one of the boys -bring me the big ditty-bag. Then and there I distributed about -twenty-five dollars’ worth of trade-stuff—the most I had ever given at -one time. - -The uproar was fairly deafening—I was thoroughly alarmed. The voices of -the savages were angry. Men ran from group to group, apparently giving -commands. Moran put his two hands in his pockets where he kept his -revolvers and I told Osa to do likewise. Our boys huddled close around -us. No need to tell them to keep their guns ready. - -The bag was soon empty, and there was nothing further to do but await -developments. To retreat would be more dangerous than to stay. In order -to keep Osa from guessing how scared I was, I got out my moving-picture -camera. I wish I could have photographed what happened then; for the -entire mob broke and ran for cover. I wondered if they had ever seen a -machine-gun. I couldn’t explain their fright on any other grounds. Only -old Yellow Ocher stood his ground. He was scared, but game, and asked me -excitedly what I was up to. I explained the camera to him and opened it -up and showed him the film and the wheels. He shouted to the other -natives to come back, and they returned to the clearing, muttering and -casting sullen glances in our direction. The old man was angry. We had -nearly broken up the show. He gave us to understand that he washed his -hands of us. - -He then turned his attention to the ceremony. In a few moments a dozen -savages took their places at the boo-boos and a few men started a -half-hearted chant. A score of young savages began to dance, but without -much spirit. It was half an hour before they warmed up, but at the end -of that time the chant was loud and punctuated with blood-thirsty yells, -and a hundred men were dancing in the clearing. I call the performance -“dancing,” but it was simply a march, round and round, quickening -gradually to a run punctuated by leaps and yells. Soon women and -children came out of the jungle. That was a good sign. For the time -being, we were in no danger. - -The dance ended abruptly with a mighty yell. The men at the boo-boos -changed their rhythm and the twenty savages we had met on the beach -burst from the jungle into the clearing and began to dance. There was a -rough symbolism in their dance. But we could not decipher the meaning of -the pantomime. They picked up a bunch of leaves here and deposited them -there. Then they charged a little bundle of sticks and finally gathered -them up and carried them off. When they were tired out, they withdrew to -the side-lines, and another group, all painted alike, in an even fiercer -pattern than that of the first group, made a similar dramatic entrance -and danced themselves into exhaustion. They were followed by other -groups. By the time three hours had passed, there were fully a thousand -savages in the clearing. - -It was a wonderful sight. My “movie” sense completely overcame my fears, -and I ground out roll after roll of film. When the afternoon was well -advanced, a hundred savages began to march to slow time around the -devil-devils. Others joined in. They increased their pace. Soon more -than half the natives were in a great circle, running and leaping and -shouting around the clearing. Those who were left formed little circles -of their own, the younger men dancing and the older ones watching with -unfriendly eyes the actions of the rival groups. Even the women and -children were hopping up and down and shouting. Occasionally a -detachment of natives came toward us. At times we were completely -surrounded, though we tried our best by moving backward to prevent the -savages from getting in our rear. - -[Illustration: THE PAINTED DANCERS OF SOUTHWEST BAY] - -As the dance grew wilder, however, the savages lost all interest in us. -Soon every one of them was dancing in the clearing. I shall never forget -that dance—a thousand naked, painted savages, running and leaping in -perfect time to the strange beat-beat-beat of the boo-boos and the wild, -monotonous chant punctuated with brutal yells. The contagion spread to -the women and children and they hopped up and down like jumping-jacks -and chanted with the men. I turned the crank of my camera like mad. The -sun sank behind the trees and Osa and Moran urged me to return to the -beach, but I was crazy with excitement over the picture I was getting -and I insisted on staying: I lighted a number of radium flares. The -savages muttered a bit, but they were worked up to too high a pitch to -stop the dance, and, when they found that the flares did no harm, they -rather liked them. Old Yellow Ocher, seeing that the bluish-white light -added to the spectacular effect, asked me for some more flares. I gave -him my last two, and he put them among the devil-devils and lighted -them. He could not have done me a greater service. The light from the -flares made it possible to get a picture such as I never could have -secured in the waning daylight. - -The savages were sweating and panting with their exertions, but now they -danced faster than ever. They seemed to have lost their senses. They -leaped and shouted like madmen. Osa swallowed her pride and begged me to -put up my camera, and at last I reluctantly consented. As I packed my -equipment, I found two hundred sticks of tobacco that had escaped my -notice. Without thinking of consequences, I put them on the edge of the -clearing and motioned to Yellow Ocher to come and get them. But some of -the young bucks saw them first. They leaped toward them. The first dozen -got them. The next hundred fought for them. The dance ended in uproar. - -For the first time in our island experiences, Osa was frightened. She -took to her heels and ran as she had never run before. The boys grabbed -up my cameras and followed her. Captain Moran stood by me. He urged me -to run, but I felt that, if we did so, we should have the whole pack on -us. Old Yellow Ocher and some of the other chiefs came up to us and -yelled something that we could not understand and did not attempt to -answer. There was no chance for explanations in that uproar. We edged -toward the trail. The chiefs pressed after us, yelling louder than ever. -Their men were at their heels. Luckily some of the natives began to -fight among themselves and diverted the attention of the majority from -us. Only a small group followed us to the edge of the hill. When we -reached the trail, Moran said we had better cut and run, and we made the -steep descent in record time. - -Our boys were a hundred yards ahead of us. Osa, with nothing to carry, -was far in the lead. When I caught up with her, she was crying, not with -fear, but with anger. When she got her breath back, she told me what she -thought of me for exposing us all to danger for the sake of a few feet -of film. I took the scolding meekly, for I knew she was right. But I -kept wishing that we had been twelve white men instead of three. Then I -could have seen the dance through to the end. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - TOMMAN AND THE HEAD-CURING ART - - -We were safe on board the Amour, but we could still hear the boo-boos -marking the time for the wild dance back in the hills. I awoke several -times during the night. The boom-boom still floated across the water. I -was glad that we had taken to our heels when we did, though I still -regretted the picture I might have got if we could have stayed. At dawn, -there was silence. The dance was over. - -A trader who put in at Southwest Bay late in the morning told us of a -man who had been brutally murdered at the very village we had visited. -It was his belief that we had escaped only because the memory of the -punitive expedition that had avenged the murder was still fresh in the -minds of the natives. Even that memory might have failed to protect us, -he told us, if the natives had really been in the heat of the dance. And -he and Captain Moran swapped yarns about savage orgies until Osa became -angry with me all over again for having stayed so long on the hill to -witness the dance. - -After a day’s rest, we continued on our journey in search of cannibals. -Our next stop was Tomman, an island about half a mile off the -southernmost tip of Malekula. Since we found the shore lined with -canoes, we expected to be surrounded as usual, as soon as we had dropped -anchor, by natives anxious to trade. To our surprise, there was not a -sign of life. We waited until it was dark and then gave up expecting -visitors, for the savages of the New Hebrides rarely show themselves -outside their huts after dark for fear of spirits. Early next morning, -however, we were awakened by hoarse shouts, and found the Amour -surrounded by native craft. We then discovered that we had arrived -inopportunely in the midst of a dance. Dances in the New Hebrides are -not merely social affairs. They all have some ceremonial significance -and accordingly are not to be lightly interrupted. - -Captain Moran assured us that, since the natives of this island, like -those of Vao, were sufficiently acquainted with the Government gunboat -to be on their good behavior where white men were concerned, it would be -safe to go ashore. We launched a whaleboat and set out for the beach, -escorted by about a hundred savages, who came to meet us in canoes. -These natives, like some of those we had met with in the region around -Southwest Bay, had curiously shaped heads. Their craniums were almost -twice as long as the normal cranium and sloped to a point at the crown. -The children, since their hair was not yet thick enough to conceal the -conformation, seemed like gnomes with high brows and heads too big for -their bodies. - -When we reached shore, we beached the whaleboat at a favorable spot and, -leaving it in charge of a couple of the crew, followed a well-beaten -trail that led from the beach to a village near by. At the edge of a -clearing surrounded by ramshackle huts, we stopped to reconnoiter. - -I have never seen a more eerie spectacle. In the center of the clearing, -before a devil-devil, an old man was dancing. Very slowly he lifted one -foot and very slowly put it down; then he lifted the other foot and put -it down, chanting all the while in a hoarse whisper. At the farther side -of the clearing, a group of old savages were squatting near a smoldering -fire, intently watching one of their number, the oldest and most wizened -of them all, as he held in the smoke a human head, impaled on a stick. -Near by, on stakes set in the ground, were other heads. - -[Illustration: THE OLD HEAD-CURER] - -The natives who had accompanied us up the trail shouted something and -the men about the fire looked up. They seemed not at all concerned over -our sudden appearance and made no attempt to conceal the heads. As for -the old dancer, he did not so much as glance our way. - -We went over to the men crouched about the fire and spoke to them. They -paid scant attention to Moran and me, but they forsook their heads to -look at Osa. She was always a source of wonder and astonishment to the -natives, most of whom had never before seen a white woman. These old men -went through the usual routine of staring at her and cautiously touching -her hands and hair, to see if they were as soft as they appeared to be. - -I discovered that the old head-curer knew _bêche-de-mer_ and could tell -me something of the complicated process of his trade. The head was first -soaked in a chemical mixture that hardened the skin and, to a certain -extent, at least, made it fireproof. Next, the curer held it over a -fire, turning and turning it in the smoke until the fat was rendered out -and the remaining tissue was thoroughly dried. After the head had been -smeared with clay to keep it from burning, it was again baked for some -hours. This process consumed about a week of constant work. The dried -head was then hung up for a time in a basket of pandanus fiber, made in -the shape of a circular native hut with a thatched roof, and finally it -was exhibited in the owner’s hut or in a ceremonial house; but for a -year it had to be taken out at intervals and smoked again in order to -preserve it. - -The old head-curer was an artist, with an artist’s pride in his work. He -told me that he was the only one left among his people who really -understood the complicated process of drying heads. The young men were -forsaking the ways of their fathers. Of the old men, he was the most -skilled. All the important heads were brought to him for curing, and he -was employed to dry the bodies of great chiefs, smearing the joints with -clay to keep the members from falling apart, turning each rigid corpse -in the smoke of a smoldering fire until it was a shriveled mummy, -painting the shrunken limbs in gay colors, and substituting pigs’ tusks -for the feet. The old man told me that heads nowadays are not what they -were in olden times. He said what I found hard to believe—that the -craniums of his ancestors were twice as long as those of present-day -islanders. - -Specimens of the head-curer’s art were displayed in every hut in the -village. The people of Tomman are not head-hunters in the strict sense -of the word. They do not go on head-raids as do the men of Borneo. But -if they kill an enemy, they take his head and hang it up at home to -frighten off the evil spirits. The heads of enemies are roughly covered -with clay and hastily and carelessly cured, but those of relatives are -more scientifically treated, for they are to be cherished in the family -portrait gallery. While the natives of Tomman do not produce works of -art comparable to the heads treated by the Maoris of New Zealand, the -results of their handiwork show a certain dignity and beauty. One -forgets that the heads were once those of living men, for they are -dehumanized and like sculptures. Each household boasted a few mummies -and a number of heads, and, to our surprise, the people willingly showed -us their treasures and allowed us to photograph them. In northern -Malekula, as we had learned, it is as much as a white man’s life is -worth to try to see the interior of a head-hut, and demands for heads—or -skulls, rather, for the natives of the northern part of the island do -not go in for head-curing—are usually met with sullen, resentful -silence. Here, the natives not only brought out heads and bodies for us -to photograph, but in exchange for a supply of tobacco permitted me to -make a flashlight picture of a big ceremonial hut containing about fifty -heads and fifteen mummified bodies. - -This hut seemed to be a club for the men of the village. Almost every -village of the New Hebrides boasts some sort of a club-house, which is -strictly taboo for women and children. Here, the devil-devils are made -and, it is rumored, certain mysterious rites are performed. Be that as -it may, club-life in the New Hebrides seemed to me to be as stupid and -meaningless as it usually is in the West. Instead of lounging in -plush-covered armchairs and smoking Havana cigars, the men of the New -Hebrides lay on the ground and smoked Virginia cuttings in clay pipes. -Each man had his favorite resting-place—a hollow worn into the ground by -his own body. He was content to lie there for hours on end, almost -motionless, saying scarcely a word; but the women and children outside -thought that he was engaged in the strange and wonderful rites of his -“lodge”! - -[Illustration: A CLUB-HOUSE IN TOMMAN WITH MUMMIED HEADS AND BODIES] - -Toward evening the women of the village appeared with loads of firewood -and fruits and vegetables. On top of nearly every load was perched a -child or a young baby, its head fitted snugly with a basket to make the -skull grow in the way in which, according to Tomman ideals of beauty, it -should go. The women of Tomman we found a trifle more independent than -those of other islands of the New Hebrides. Of course, their upper front -teeth were missing—knocked out by their husbands as part of the marriage -ceremony. The gap was the Tomman substitute for a wedding-ring. But on -Tomman, as elsewhere in the New Hebrides, wives are slaves. Since a good -wife is expensive, costing from twenty to forty pigs, and the supply is -limited, most of the available women are cornered by the rich. A young -man with little property is lucky if he can afford one wife. He looks -forward to the day when he will inherit his father’s women. Then he will -have perhaps a dozen willing hands to work for him. He will give a great -feast and, if he kills enough pigs, he will be made a chief. - -When we went back to the ship at sunset, the old man was still doing his -solitary dance in front of the devil-devil. In the morning, when we -returned to the village, he was already at it, one foot up, one foot -down. When we left Tomman, four days after our arrival, he was still -going strong. I tried to discover the reason for the performance, but -the natives either could not or would not tell me. - -Although Tomman was an interesting spot, we did not remain there long. I -was looking for cannibals, and experience had taught me that -head-hunters were rarely cannibals or cannibals head-hunters. So, since -our time in the islands was growing short, we decided to move on. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - THE WHITE MAN IN THE SOUTH SEAS - - -We chugged away from Tomman and for a week we cruised along the southern -end of Malekula. In this region, the mountains come down to the sea. -Beyond them lies dangerous territory. It was not safe for us to cross -them with the force we had; so we had to be content with inspecting the -coast. There we found only deserted villages and a few scattered huts -inhabited by old men left to die alone. - -Finally we rounded the end of the island and steamed up the eastern -coast. One evening we came to anchor in Port Sandwich—a lovely, -land-locked bay. Since it was very late, we deferred explorations until -the following morning and turned in almost as soon as we had anchored, -so as to be ready for work betimes. - -At about three o’clock, Osa and I, who slept on deck, were rudely -awakened by being thrown into the scuppers. We pulled ourselves to our -feet and held tight to the rail. The ship rolled and trembled violently. -Though there seemed to be no wind, the water boiled around us and the -trees on shore swayed and groaned in the still air. - -Captain Moran and his brother came rushing from their cabins. The black -crew tumbled out of the hold, yelling with terror. There was a sound of -breaking crockery. A big wave washed over the deck and carried overboard -everything that was loose. The water bubbled up from below as if from a -giant caldron and fishes leaped high into the air. After what seemed to -be half an hour, but was in reality a few minutes, the disturbance -subsided. We had been through an earthquake. - -The volcanic forces that brought the New Hebrides into being are still -actively at work. Small shocks are almost a daily occurrence in the -islands. But this had been no ordinary earthquake. The next morning, -when we went ashore, we found that half the native huts of the little -settlement near the mouth of the bay had collapsed like card houses. The -devil-devils and boo-boos stood at drunken angles—some of them had -fallen to the ground—and, in the village clearings and other level -places, the ground looked like a piece of wet paper that had been -stretched until it was full of wrinkles and jagged tears. Streaks of red -clay marked the courses of landslides down the sides of the mountains. -The old men of the settlement said that the earthquake was the worst -they had ever experienced. And when we returned to Vao, we found that -two sides of our own bungalow had caved in as a result of the shock. - -[Illustration: TOMMAN WOMEN, SHOWING GAP IN TEETH] - -A visit to the volcano Lopevi gave us further proof of the uncertain -foundation on which the islands rest. - -On the morning after the earthquake, Mr. King, the British Commissioner, -appeared in the Euphrosyne, on his way to Vao to fetch us for a visit at -Vila. We told him regretfully that we had no time for visiting, and then -he proposed a jaunt to Lopevi, a great volcano about thirty miles from -Malekula. We were glad of the opportunity to see the volcano, which was -reputed to be one of the most beautiful in the world. So we said -good-bye to Captain Moran, who departed at once to continue his -interrupted trading, and we transferred our belongings to the -Euphrosyne, where we reveled in the unaccustomed luxury of good beds and -good service by attentive servants. - -We left Port Sandwich at daybreak, and in a few hours we saw Lopevi, a -perfect cone, rising abruptly out of the water to a height of nearly six -thousand feet. When we came within range, I got my camera ready. A fine -fringe of thunder-clouds encircled the island about halfway down, but -the top was free. The light was perfect. I was grinding happily away, -when a miracle happened. Lopevi sent up a cloud of smoke. Then she -growled ominously, and shot out great tongues of lapping flame. More -smoke, and she subsided into calm again. I had secured a fine picture -and congratulated myself on having arrived just in the nick of time. -Suddenly, as we discussed the event, Lopevi became active again. And -after that there was an eruption every twenty minutes from ten in the -morning until four in the afternoon. We steamed all around the island, -stopping at favorable points to wait for a good “shot.” At four o’clock, -we sailed for Api, where we were to harbor for the night. And from the -time we turned our backs on Lopevi, there was not another eruption. Her -cone was in sight for an hour that night, and next morning, from -Ringdove Bay where we were anchored, she was plainly visible. But she -did not emit a single whiff of smoke. Osa called her our trained -volcano. - -We remained on Api for four days. Since Mr. King was due back at Vila, -he had to leave on the morning after our arrival; so we took up our -quarters with Mr. Mitchell, the English manager of one of the largest -coconut plantations on the island. - -In more civilized regions one might hesitate before descending, bag and -baggage, upon an unknown host, to wait for a very uncertain steamer; but -in the islands of the South Seas one is almost always sure of a welcome. -The traders and planters lead lonely lives. They have just three things -to look forward to—the monthly visit of the Pacifique, a trip once a -year to Sydney or New Caledonia, and dinner. For the Englishman in -exile, dinner is the greatest event of the day. He rises at daybreak -and, after a hasty cup of coffee, goes out on the plantation to see that -work is duly under way. He breakfasts at eleven and then sleeps for a -couple of hours, through the heat of the day. His day’s work is over at -six; then he has a bath and a whiskey-and-soda—and dinner. Another -drink, a little quiet reading, then off with the dinner clothes and to -bed. - -Yes, I said dinner clothes. For dinner clothes are as much _de rigueur_ -in Ringdove Bay as they are on Piccadilly. I, who have a rowdy fondness -for free-and-easy dress and am only too glad when I can escape from the -world of dinner coats and white ties, suggested, on the second evening -of our stay at Api, that, since Mrs. Johnson was used to informal -attire, we could dispense, if Mr. Mitchell desired, with the ceremony of -dressing. - -“But, my dear Johnson,” said Mitchell, “I dress for dinner when I am -here alone.” - -That ended the matter. I knew that I was up against an article of the -British creed and might as well conform. - -When I first went out to the South Seas, I was disposed to regard the -punctiliousness in dress of the isolated Britisher as more or less of an -affectation. But now I realize that a dinner coat is a symbol. It is a -man’s declaration to himself and the world that he has a firm grasp on -his self-respect. A Frenchman in the islands can go barefooted and -half-clothed, can live a life ungoverned by routine, rising at will, -going to bed at will, working at will, can throw off every convention, -and still maintain his dignity. With the Anglo-Saxon it is different. -The Englishman must hold fast to an ordered existence or, in nine cases -out of ten, the islands will “get” him. - -It is customary to waste a lot of pity on the trader and the planter in -remote places—lonely outposts of civilization, but, from my observation, -they do not need pity. The man who stays in the islands is fitted for -the life there; if he isn’t, he doesn’t stay, and, if he does stay, he -can retire, after fifteen or twenty years, with a tidy fortune. - -Of course the road to fortune is a long and hard one. The average -planter starts out with a little capital—say five hundred dollars. He -purchases a plot of land. The price he pays depends upon the locality in -which he buys. In regions where the natives are still fairly -unsophisticated, he may get his land for almost nothing. Even where the -natives are most astute, he can buy a square mile for what he would pay -for an acre back home. His next step is to get his land cleared. To that -end, he buys a whaleboat and goes out to recruit natives to act as -laborers. He needs five or six blacks. They will build his house and -clear his land and plant his coconuts. Since it takes seven years for -the coconuts to mature, sweet potatoes and cotton must be planted -between the rows of trees. The sweet potatoes, with a little rice, will -furnish all the food required by the blacks. The cotton, if the planter -is diligent and lucky, will pay current expenses until the coconuts -begin bearing. - -Though his small capital of five hundred dollars may be eaten up early -in the game, the settler need not despair. The big trading companies -that do business in the islands will see him through if he shows any -signs of being made of the right stuff. They will give him credit for -food and supplies and they will provide him with knives, calico, and -tobacco, which he can barter with the blacks for the sandalwood and -copra that will help balance his account with the companies. And after -the first trying seven years, his troubles are about over—if he can get -labor enough to keep his plantation going. - -Even in the remote islands of the New Hebrides, the labor problem has -reared its head. The employer, in civilized regions, has a slight -advantage resulting from the fact that men must work to live. In the New -Hebrides, indeed all throughout Melanesia, the black man can live very -comfortably, according to his own standards, on what nature provides. -Only a minimum of effort is required to secure food and clothing and -shelter, and most of that effort is put forth by the female slaves he -calls his wives. Even the experienced recruiter finds it hard to get the -Melanesian to exchange his life of ease for a life of toil. And the -inexperienced recruiter finds it very hard. The days when natives could -be picked up on any beach are past. The blacks in the more accessible -regions know what recruiting means—two years of hard labor, from which -there is no escape and from which a man may or may not return home. So -the recruiter must look for hands in the interior, where knowledge of -the white man and his ways has not penetrated. Even here, the -inexperienced recruiter is at a disadvantage. For the experienced -recruiter has invariably preceded him. - -Each year, the number of available recruits is growing fewer, for the -native population is dwindling rapidly. As a result, the cost of labor -is high. In the Solomons, one may secure a native for a three years’ -term at five or six pounds a year in the case of inexperienced workmen, -or at nine pounds a year in the case of natives who have already served -for three years. In the New Hebrides, planter bids against planter, and -the native benefits, receiving from twelve to fifteen pounds a year for -his work. The planters complain of the high cost of labor. But the big -planters, the capitalists of the South Seas, who have their chains of -copra groves, with a white superintendent in charge of each one, -certainly do not suffer. I remember being on one big Melanesian -plantation on the day when natives were paid for two years’ work all in -a lump. About four thousand dollars was distributed among the workers. I -watched them spend it in the company store. A great simple black, clad -in a nose-stick and a yard of calico, would come in and after an hour of -happy shopping would go off blissfully with little or no money and a -collection of cheap mirrors and beads and other worthless gew-gaws all -in a shiny new “bokkus b’long bell.” By night, about three thousand -dollars had been taken in by the company store-keeper. I was reminded of -a rather grimly humorous story of a day’s receipts that totaled only -$1800 after a $2000 pay-day. When the report reached the main office in -Sydney, a curt note was sent to the plantation store-keeper asking what -had become of the other $200! - -There are certainly two sides to the labor question in the New Hebrides. -Yet the whole development of the islands hangs upon cheap and efficient -labor. Where it is to come from is a question. The recruiting of -Orientals for service in British possessions in the South Seas is -forbidden. Even if it were permitted, it would not solve the problem, -for the coolie of China or Japan or India is not adapted to the grilling -labor of clearing bush. - -Mr. Mitchell discussed the labor problem as long and as bitterly as any -employer back home. The natives of Api, while friendly and mild, were -entirely averse to toil. He had to import hands from other islands. Only -occasionally could he persuade the Api people to do a few days’ work in -order to secure some object “belong white man.” - -Often they coveted curious things. One morning, during our stay, a -delegation of natives appeared and said they had come for -“big-fellow-bokkus (box).” A servant, summoned by Mitchell, brought out -a wooden coffin, one of the men counted out some money, and the natives -shouldered their “bokkus” and went away. - -Mitchell laughed as he watched them depart. That coffin had a history. -About six weeks previously, a delegation of natives had appeared, with a -black who had seen service on a New Zealand plantation acting as -spokesman. He informed Mitchell that their old chief was dying and that -they had decided to pay him the honor of burying him in “bokkus belong -white man.” They asked Mitchell if he would provide such a “bokkus” and -for how much. Mitchell had a Chinese carpenter and a little supply of -timber; so he very gladly consented to have a coffin made. He figured -the cost at ten pounds. That appeared to the delegation to be excessive, -and they went off to the hills. The next day, however, they reappeared -and requested that he make a coffin half the size for half the money. -Mitchell protested that a coffin half the size originally figured upon -would not be long enough to hold the chief. And they replied that they -would cut his arms and legs off to make him fit in. At that, Mitchell, -with an eye to labor supply, said that, if they must have a coffin, they -must have a proper coffin. He would order the carpenter to make one -large enough to hold the chief without mutilation, and he would charge -them only five pounds for it, though that meant a loss to him. The -carpenter went to work. Most of the village came down to supervise the -job, and every few hours, until the coffin was finished, a messenger -reported on the chief’s condition. When the “bokkus” was at last done, -they carried it up the trail with great rejoicing. But the next day they -brought it back. The old chief was up and about, and they had no use for -it. They laid it down at Mitchell’s feet and demanded their money back. -Mitchell protested that he had no use for the coffin, either, but they -were firm. And he, remembering how difficult it is to get hands in the -copra-cutting season, meekly returned the five pounds, and put the -coffin in his storehouse. Now, a month later, the old chief had died, -and the natives had come for the coffin. We could hear them chanting as -they went up the trail. - -The next day we set sail on the Pacifique, which had arrived during the -night with letters and papers a month old, and we were dropped at Port -Sandwich, which was sparsely populated with sullen and subdued savages, -to await whatever trader might happen along to take us back to Vao. We -had used all our films and were thoroughly tired of Port Sandwich when a -trader finally put in an appearance. His boat was a twenty-four-foot -launch, barely large enough to contain us and our equipment. When we -hoisted our dinghy aboard, its bow and stern protruded several feet -beyond the sides of the launch. Next morning, with some misgivings, we -set out on the fifty-five-mile journey that would complete our round of -Malekula and bring us back to Vao. - -We got “home” about four in the afternoon, tired and half-cooked from -the broiling sun that had beat down upon us all day. We received a royal -welcome. A great crowd of natives met us at the beach, and each seized a -box or package and carried it at top speed up to the bungalow. In half -an hour everything was in the house. It had been a long time since our -Vao neighbors had had any of our tobacco! - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - ESPIRITU SANTO AND A CANNIBAL FEAST - - -For two days we developed films and plates. On the third, we attended -what might be called the New Year’s celebration of Vao. Fires are made -among the islanders by the primitive method by rubbing two sticks -together. Though the operation takes only a minute, the savages are too -lazy to light a fire every time they need one, so once a year, in the -largest house of the village, they make a big fire, which is kept -burning to furnish embers from which all the other fires may be lighted. -At the end of the year, the fire is put out with great solemnity, and a -new one is lighted. The ceremony lasts all day and all night. It is -called “killing the Mankki.” - -On the morning of the festivities, bush natives began to arrive before -daylight. The young boys of Vao served as ferrymen. A group of men would -come down to the beach at Malekula and shout across the water, and the -Vao boys would put out in their funny little crooked canoes—for wood is -so scarce that even bent trees are made to do duty as dugouts—and bring -back a load of passengers. Natives came from other islands near by. By -night, there were more than a thousand people on the islands. - -From early in the morning, there was dancing and pig-killing in the -clearings of the three villages. The different tribes did not mingle -together. One group would come out of the bush into the clearing, dance -its dance, kill a score or so of pigs, and then retire into the bush -again. - -It was bad weather for photography. It rained all day—a fine, drizzling -rain. But I worked hard, hoping to secure some good film, for the dances -were unusually interesting. One especially good dance was a snake dance, -in which the natives brandished small snakes tied to coconut leaves. -They are deadly afraid of snakes. They have a saying that holds good -pretty much the world over, to the effect that snakes with blunt tails -are always poisonous and those with long, pointed tails are harmless. I -noted that the snakes used for the dance were very small and of a -long-tailed variety. At the end of the dance each man killed his snake -and fed it to a pig. Then each man killed a pig. - -The slaughter of pigs was enormous. I am sure some five hundred must -have been killed during the day—far more than could be eaten. As each -pig was killed, his tusks were removed and placed upon platforms that -had been erected to hold them. Pigs’ tusks are always carefully -preserved. They ornament the houses. They form necklaces for the -devil-devils. They are placed in the crotches of trees. - -I was convinced, as the day wore on, that pork was not the only meat on -the bill of fare. It seemed to me that I was at last hot on the trail of -cannibalism; the men from Malekula had brought with them strange -packages wrapped in leaves, which, I suspected, contained human flesh. -The action of the blacks confirmed my suspicion, for they guarded their -packages carefully, and would not let me come near with my cameras. - -They were threatening in their attitude all day. Even my tobacco did not -thaw them out. The Vao people tolerated me, in return for a case of -tobacco, but their eyes were far from friendly, and the old men muttered -evilly every time they looked our way. - -By dark things were getting lively. The mob of savages surged back and -forth from one village to another, shouting and singing. I made a great -discovery for thirsty America—that people can actually get drunk on -imagination. The natives had no intoxicating liquor. Their only drink -was water, and yet they lurched drunkenly when they walked, and sang as -only drunken men and women sing. - -I did not see the fire put out and the new one built. As it grew later, -the mob became wilder. I began to think of the long, dark trail to the -bungalow, where we would be absolutely at the mercy of lurking savages, -and decided that discretion was the better part of valor. So Osa and I -went home. We slept with our guns handy—and we did not sleep much at -that, for the boo-boos sounded all night and the shouting and singing -sometimes surged very near. - -We spent the next few days in visits to the northern coast of Malekula, -but we did not dare venture inland, for the attitude of the natives was -at once suspicious and threatening. We talked the matter over and -decided that we had seen about enough of Malekula and Vao and might as -well pursue our investigations elsewhere. Espiritu Santo was some forty -miles away. In the southern portion there was reported to be a race of -dwarfs, and cannibalism was said to be general there, as on Malekula. We -had almost despaired of getting actual proof that man ate man in the New -Hebrides. We ourselves had seen enough to be convinced that “long pig” -was on many a bill of fare, but we could not prove anything; for, since -the Government metes out severe punishment to eaters of human flesh, the -savages are careful not to be caught at their ghoulish feasts. Still, -our luck might turn, we thought, if we changed islands, and we should -find the evidence we had been seeking for so many weeks. - -The very day after we made this decision, a small cutter nosed into the -passage between Vao and Malekula. The owner was a full-blooded Tongan -trader, named Powler. He was on his way to get some coconuts he had -bought from a native on an island near by, but he promised to return in -a few days and take us to Santo. When he arrived, we had our equipment -packed and were ready to go aboard. The natives helped us with a will -and showed real regret at parting with us, for they knew that they would -never again get so much tobacco in return for so little work. - -The wind was favorable, and we fairly flew along. Shortly after dark we -anchored off Tongoa, a small island a stone’s throw from Santo. To my -great delight, Powler agreed to remain with us. He was a great, -good-natured giant, never out of sorts and strong as an ox. I wished we -had met with him sooner. The natives trusted him. His dark skin and his -ability to grasp the languages of the island tribes stood him in good -stead. Besides, he had the reputation, among both natives and whites, of -being absolutely honest in his dealings—a trait as rare in the South -Seas as elsewhere. In his company, we went ashore early on the morning -after our arrival. - -We found the men of Santo, who gathered on the beach to greet us, quite -different in type from the Malekula bush savages. They were smaller and -more gracefully built. They wore flowers and feathers in their hair. -They had a curious custom of removing part of the bone that divides the -nostrils so that the bridges of their noses had fallen in and they -appeared to be always scowling. To enhance their fierceness still -further, they put sticks through their noses. - -Such nose ornaments are characteristic of the blacks of the South Seas. -The Solomon Islander wears a ring fashioned from bone or shell and -highly polished and ornamented. The native of Santa Cruz adorns himself -with a piece of polished tortoise-shell shaped like a padlock. But the -man of the New Hebrides thrusts into his nose anything that he happens -upon—usually a stick picked up along the trail. - -To my great delight, the Santo men wore a geestring of calico. As I have -said before, the dress of the men of Malekula, if you can call it dress, -draws attention to their sex rather than conceals it. On my first visit -among them, I had taken motion-pictures of them as they were. When I -returned to America, I found that naked savages shocked the public. Some -of my best films were absolutely unsalable. On this second trip, -accordingly, I managed, whenever possible, to persuade the savages to -wear geestrings or loin-cloths or aprons of leaves. Since “costuming” -was very difficult (the blacks, naturally enough, could see no reason -for it), I was glad that I should not have to spend time in persuading -the men of Santo to put on more clothing. - -At daybreak on the following morning, we started for the hills. With us -were Powler and three of his boys and fifteen trustworthy Tongoa -natives. We were bound for a village of pottery-makers—but we never got -there. We had tramped for about three hours when we came suddenly upon a -group of little men. They were too surprised to run, and too frightened. -They were all, with the exception of one of their number who carried a -gun as big as he was, armed with bows and arrows, but they did not show -any hostility. Instead, they just gathered close together and stared at -us in terror. - -These were the dwarfs I had heard about. I got out some presents for -them. Soon their timidity wore off, and I persuaded them to walk one by -one under my outstretched arm. Although their fuzzy wool stood out in -great bushy mops, not a hair touched my arm as they passed under. There -were sixteen of them, all told. Five were old fellows with grizzled -whiskers, ten were of middle age, and one, the tallest of them all, was -a boy of about fifteen. - -We settled down near a stream and I took pictures as long as the light -lasted. That night, our little friends camped close by, and the next -day, when we set out for the beach, they followed us. We showed them -everything we had in our trunks. They were as pleased as children, and, -when I allowed the old chief to shoot my big automatic revolver, he -fairly danced with excitement. - -[Illustration: DWARFS OF ESPIRITU SANTO] - -The next day, I sent messengers into the hills to hunt for a chief about -whom Mr. King had told us. This chief had achieved a great reputation as -a prophet and a worker of magic. A year before, he had been nobody—just -a savage. Then he had gone mad. He had once been recruited as a member -of the crew of a mission ship, where he had heard hymns and Bible -stories, which he now adapted to his own use. He told the natives there -was going to be a great flood, which would cover Santo. He himself, -however, would not be drowned, for he was going to bring Hat Island, a -little island off the coast, over to rest on Santo Peak. Hat Island was -a barren and undesirable piece of real estate, but the prophet said that -he had made arrangements to have twenty European steamers come regularly -with food and tobacco for the inhabitants. Since he had been fairly -successful in foretelling the weather, the natives believed in him, and -each clamored for a place on Hat Island. But the salvation offered by -the old savage came high. Reservations on Hat Island could be secured -only at the price of ten pigs each. Soon the prophet had cornered most -of the pigs in that section of Santo. Seeing his power, he raised the -price of admission. He secured, in addition to the pigs, the most -desirable women in the vicinity. In fact, he appropriated everything he -wanted, and occasionally he ran _âmok_ and killed several of his -compatriots—as he said, to put the fear of God into them. - -The next recruiter that came to Santo was besieged with savages begging -to be allowed to go to work on copra plantations. He soon learned that -the natives had not suddenly grown industrious, but that even work -seemed pleasant in contrast with the reign of terror of the inspired -chief. The chief saw possibility of profit in the desire of his people -to escape and made the recruiter pay heavily in tobacco and calico for -every native taken away. - -Reports of his rule had reached the Government officers at Vila, and -Commissioner King, who had sent for him several times to no avail, had -given me a letter to present to the old fellow, in case I should go to -Santo. I now sent word to the chief that I had an important message that -could be delivered only to him in person. To my surprise, two days after -the message had been delivered, the prophet appeared. - -I had made everything ready for a motion-picture show to entertain my -pigmies. Just before dark, as I was testing my projector, thirty armed -natives came down the beach. The dwarfs wanted to run, but we made them -understand that we would protect them, and they huddled behind us, -frightened, but with perfect faith in our ability and readiness to take -care of them in any crisis. - -The newcomers were a nasty-looking lot. The prophet, ridiculous in a -singlet and overalls and a high hat, came up to me with no sign of -hesitation and held out his hand. I could distinguish words in the -greeting he grunted at me, but they had no connection. His eyes were -bloodshot and wild, his lips were abnormally red, and he drooled as he -talked. - -I presented Commissioner King’s letter, which was an imposing document -with a red official seal. In high-sounding language it enjoined the -chief to give me and my party every possible aid, and ended with an -invitation to his prophetic highness to come to Vila on the Euphrosyne -the next time she passed that way and the promise that he would not be -harmed if he would do so. - -When the prophet saw the red seal, his assurance fell from him, and he -rolled his eyes in terror. - -“Me sick; me sick,” he repeated over and over. I tried to explain that -Commissioner King realized that he was sick, and for that very reason -wanted to see him and help him, but I doubt if he understood anything I -said. - -After dark, we started the show. The dwarfs chattered and giggled like -children, but our other guests were unsmiling and ominously silent. Only -the prophet kept talking. One of the boys told me afterward that he was -telling his men that he had sent for me in order to work his magic -through me—that I and my projector had nothing to do with the pictures; -he himself was responsible. - -But halfway through the performance he apparently began to doubt his -power. Rocking back and forth, he repeated over and over, “By-em-by me -die, by-em-by me die.” He was looking forward to the day when he would -be captured and carried off to Vila and, as he imagined, put to death. I -was glad when the show was over and the prophet and his followers -withdrew for the night. It had not been an especially merry evening. - -Early next morning a delegation of the prophet’s followers sought me out -and begged me to take their chief by force to Vila and have him hanged. - -“He bad. He takem plenty pigs; he takem plenty women; he killem plenty -men,” they explained. - -I was sorry for them, but I could do nothing. I tried to make them -understand that I had nothing to do with the Government and consequently -no authority to arrest a man, but I could see that they did not quite -believe me. They went off muttering to themselves. - -In a few minutes they departed with their chief in quest of a certain -kind of shellfish to be found about five miles up the beach, and we -decided to take advantage of their absence and visit one of the villages -in the prophet’s territory. - -We walked for about three hours without seeing any signs of a village. -Then we heard, faint in the distance, the sound of a tom-tom. Soon we -were within hearing of a chanted song. We advanced with caution, until -we reached the edge of a village clearing. From behind a clump of bushes -we could watch the natives who danced there. The dance was just the -ordinary native hay-foot, straw-foot, around the devil-devils in the -center of the clearing, now slow, now gradually increasing in tempo -until it was a run. - -What interested me was the feast that was in preparation. On a long -stick, over the fire, were a dozen pieces of meat. More meat was -grilling on the embers of another fire. On leaves near by were the -entrails of the animal that was cooking. I do not know what it was that -made me suspect the nature of this meat. It certainly was not much -different in appearance from pork. But some sixth sense whispered to me -that it was not pork. - -The savages had no suspicion of our nearness. As a matter of fact, the -keenness of sight and hearing that primitive peoples are generally -credited with are entirely lacking in the New Hebrideans. Many a time -Osa and I have quietly crept up to a native village and stolen away -again without being detected. Often on the trail we have literally run -into blacks before they realized that we were approaching. Even the -half-starved native dogs have lost their alertness. More than once I -have come suddenly on a cur and laughed at him as he rolled over -backward in an attempt to escape. With the natives lost in a dance, we -were quite safe. - -For an hour we watched and took long-range photographs. The dance -continued monotonously. The meat sizzled slowly over the fire—and -nothing happened. Then I gave one of the Tongoa boys who accompanied us -a radium flare and told him to go into the clearing, drop the flare into -the fire, and run to one side out of the picture. He did as I asked him. -The natives stopped dancing and watched him as he approached. He threw -the flare into the fire and jumped aside. As they stooped down close to -the flame to see what he had thrown there, the flare took fire and sent -its blinding white light into their faces. With a yell they sprang back -and ran in terror directly toward us. When they saw us, they stopped so -quickly that they almost tumbled backward. Then they turned and ran in -the opposite direction. The half-minute flare had burned out; so they -grabbed the meat from the fire and carried it with them into the bush. - -[Illustration: THE CANNIBAL DANCE] - -My boys sprang into the clearing. I, with my camera on my shoulder, was -just behind them. When I came up to them, they were standing by the -fire, looking at the only remnant of the feast that was left on the -embers. It was a charred human head, with rolled leaves plugging the -eye-sockets. - -I had proved what I had set out to prove—that cannibalism is still -practiced in the South Seas. I was so happy that I yelled. After -photographing the evidence, I wrapped the head carefully in leaves, to -take away with me. We picked the fire over, but could find no other -remainder of the gruesome feast. In one of the huts, however, we -discovered a quantity of human hair, laid out on a green leaf, to be -made into ornaments. - -Some of the cannibals returned and, from a distance, watched us search -their huts. I then took their pictures. They grinned into the camera, as -innocent as children. - -We arrived at the beach a little after dark. Powler had shot some -pigeons, fried their breasts, and made a soup from the remainder, and he -had cut down a coconut tree and made a salad of the heart. We did full -justice to the meal. After it was over, we sat and admired the roasted -head—at least I admired it. Osa did not think much of it. As for Powler, -he tried in vain to conceal that he thought me absolutely crazy to care -so much about an old charred head. - -The next day, while I was printing pictures on the beach, a delegation -of cannibals appeared on the scene. They were good-natured and friendly. -I showed them a big mirror. It was apparently the first they had ever -seen. They were awed and puzzled, touching the glass with cautious -fingers and looking behind the mirror suddenly, to surprise whoever -might be fooling them. I photographed them as they peered at their -reflection and grimaced like a bunch of monkeys. We invited them to -luncheon. Their favorite dish of “long pig” was not on the bill of fare. -But they ate our trade salmon and biscuits with gusto and smacked their -lips over the coffee that Osa made for them—the first they had ever -tasted. They remained with us until the following day, when we picked up -our apparatus and sailed off on the first lap of our journey home. - -In seven months in the New Hebrides I had exposed twenty-five thousand -feet of film, and had, besides, about a thousand “stills.” I was well -satisfied with my work; for I knew that my pictures would help the -Western world to realize the life lived by the fast-disappearing -primitive races of the earth; and I had actual evidence—my long-range -photographs and the charred head that I so carefully cherished—that -cannibalism is still practiced in the islands of the South Seas. - - - THE END - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling. - 2. Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed. - 3. 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