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Saints and Savages

" I now see more good, and more evil, in all men than heretofore I did. I see that good men are not so good as I once thought they were. ... In the wicked, usually there is more for grace to make advantage of, and more to testify for God and holiness, than I once believed." — RICHARD BAXTER.

" I know that people are called saints who are supposed to be better than others : but I don't know how much better they must be in order to be saints ; nor how nearly anybody may be a saint and yet not be quite one ; nor whether everybody who is called a saint was one ; nor whether every- body who isn't called a saint isn't one." — RUSKIN.

" When I would do good, evil is present with me."— SAINT PAUL.

•

"AMONCi THE BROKEN GODS." "THE OLD A\EN . . . SIT DOWN TOGETHER AND WEEP."- PAGE 224

Saints and Savages

The Story of Five Years in the

j

New Hebrides

KOBERT LAMB

M \ <*% / j M * O'* \€ H £> fKi IN x

SUrKKlNTKNDEKr A^'O MON. SUvntfNTE MKD1CAI. MI.sSION, AMhhVM, BW MEBRIOKS

ILLUSTRATIONS BY

JULIAN R. ASHT0N, SVDNKY, N.S.W,

"

WILLIAM BLACKWOOO AND SONS

EDINBURGH AND LONDON

MCM V

Kifktt

Saints and Savages

The Story of Five Years in the New Hebrides

BY

ROBERT LAMB

M.A. (N.Z.), M.B., CH.M., B.D. (Bom.)

FORMERLY SUPERINTENDENT AND HON. SUPERINTENDENT MEDICAL MISSION, AMBRYM, NEW HEBRIDES

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY JULIAN R. ASHTON, SYDNEY, N.S.W.

WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS

EDINBURGH AND LONDON

MCMV

All Rights reserved

DU

J&i

DEDICATED TO

THE STUDENTS OF EDINBURGH,

ESPECIALLY MY OLD FELLOWS

WHO ARE SCATTERED FAR AND WIDE

DISSEMINATING THE GOSPEL;

AND TO THE

YOUNG MEN OF NEW ZEALAND.

1O0123Q

In Preparation. BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

THE VISION OF GOD.

A Companion Volume to 'SAINTS AND SAVAGES.'

PREFACE.

' SAINTS AND SAVAGES ' represents a study in black and white. It is an endeavour to give a glimpse of the heathen as they were seen by the writer, — a glimpse which enables us to understand in a measure how they lived and what they lived for, before white sails were first seen flitting among these isles, bringing a disturbing element into their simple lives.

A glimpse is also given of the forces, good and bad, now at work, which are fast sweeping away every vestige of what once was. The story of Eden is being repeated before our eyes. The black man has been tempted to eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge. The result is the same — death to his race and expulsion from his fair heritage.

The contrasts are, as the title indicates, strongly marked. The black is very black. It shows what may and does occur beyond the sky-line of civilisation.

As for the white, experience compels us to admit that the linen garments of the purest of earth's

viii Preface

saints (I think I have been privileged to meet some of them) are nothing to boast of. We may well sympathise with the disconsolate washerwoman as she gazed at her line of clothes against a back- ground of newly fallen snow, and muttered to her- self, "God Almighty's white is hard to beat." Still, we do get glimpses of that white, occasionally amid strange surroundings.

There is no attempt to classify the characters, or even to define what is meant by sainthood and its opposite. In our young days it seemed an easy matter; easy also on paper; but contact with the real men and women alters all that. And such are these. The gradations as we pass from one extreme to the other are so fine, that we may say with the ancient Rabbis, " Between Gehenna and Paradise there is only the breadth of two fingers." Probably the orginator of that saying meant the chink be- tween the fingers. Nevertheless the chink is a fact, and represents the line of cleavage.

One thing we learn beyond all doubt — that colour is no bar; nor is the want of it. That at which men draw the line is less than skin deep.

The book is the outcome of an effort, during a period of illness, to weave as simply as possible the incidents and experiences of these five years into a readable story. A few facts from the before and the afterwards are utilised to lead up to and round

Preface ix

off the tale. It is not so much a history — though it is that too — as a study and portrayal of character as seen from one corner of the field. The details of the narrative are subsidiary, and have been handled freely to form the setting. For obvious reasons — some of the originals being still alive — it has been necessary here and there to adopt a thin veil of disguise. Some names have been changed, some scenes shifted, some groups of incidents rearranged and wrought into a unity. The principal characters are therefore, in a sense, fiction. It is better to be frank than to be misunderstood.

. Nevertheless, the tapestry of our tale, such as it is, has been woven on the loom of actual life. The pictures given of Island ways and native character are authentic. Once and again Imagination has, of necessity, been allowed to assist Memory at the shuttle ; but every thread is spun of fact.

In the field of anthropology nothing has been' attemped beyond a little prospecting. Others must mine and win the gold. The hope is humbly cher- ished that the result of this love -inspired task will have justified the effort, and that the reader may find herein some few grains, dollied and shining, of pleasure and of help.

For, not without some misgivings, this brief tale of broken lives, with the lesson learned therefrom, is sent on its way — like bread cast upon the waters.

x Preface

With pleasure I acknowledge Mr J. W. Mansfield's cordial co-operation in obtaining information con- cerning some of the native customs. To him and to Mr J. F. Byrne, and others, I am indebted for the photographs on which several of the illustrations have been based. Other acknowledgments will be found in their appropriate places.

ROBERT LAMB.

WENTWORTH FALLS,

BLUE MOUNTAINS, N.S.W.

New Year, 1905.

CONTENTS.

BOOK I. Buckling on the Armour.

CHAP. PAGE

I. THE CALL ...... 3

II. WILL AS A STUDENT . . . . .12

III. EDINBURGH ...... 17

BOOK II. On the Field.

I. RECONNOITRING : DREAMS AND REALITIES . . 29

II. THE SEARCH ...... 37

III. NO MAN'S LAND ...... 46

IV. THE BLACK MAN'S FATE . . . -53 V. THE LABOUR TRADE ..... 63

VI. WILL AT WORK ...... 73

VII. THE DRINK FIEND ..... 83

VIII. THE JOY OF LIVING ..... 92

BOOK III.

The Conflict.

I. SKIRMISHING ...... 105

II. THE POLITY OF THE HEATHEN . . 117 III. THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY . . .130

xii Contents

IV. A HURRICANE . . . . . .142

V. A SWIM FOR LIFE . . . . -153

VI. THE FIRST OPERATION . . . . .164

VII. TATU: A FLOWERET OF THE KINGDOM . . 175

VIII. A FRESH DISASTER . . . . .190

IX. THE VOLCANO AWAKES ..... 2OO

X. THE WISDOM AND MORALS OF THE SAVAGE . . 2O7 XL "RED HEARTS" ...... 222

XII. THE ARREST ...... 233

XIII. CASTING THE NET . . . . .242

XIV. OUR BOYS ...... 253

BOOK IV. Valete, Fratres I

I. FAREWELL, MY COMRADES ! . . . . 269

II. THE OLD MAL OF NAUBU .... 282

III. WILL'S LAST CLIMB ..... 288

IV. THE GRAVEDIGGERS ..... 298 V. WAS IT WORTH ? . . . . . . 307

ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE

"AMONG THE BROKEN GODS." "THE OLD MEN . . . SIT

DOWN TOGETHER AND WEEP " . . . Frontispiece

THE WATER-CLOCK . . . . . .II

THE ROUTE THROUGH THE GROUP . . . .30

"CHILDREN OF THE WOODS" . . . .44

MAL AT HOME . . . . . . . Il6

A DRUM. (PANTING) . . . . . .120

MONUMENTS OF SOCIAL RANK .... 122

YAMS. "HALF A DAY'S LABOUR TO DIG UP ONE POTATO" 124

A SMALL "PLATFORM" . . . . .126

UNDER THE BANYAN . . . . . .150

"SMITTEN AND BLASTED" . . . . .152

THE SWIM FOR LIFE . . . . . .158

THE HOSPITAL ....... l6o

"BRAVE TO THE LAST" . . . . .188 "ONE OF THE . . . BRIGHTEST" . . . .196 "WHERE THE 'SERPENT' OF FIRE GLIDED INTO THE

SEA" ....... 202

MAP OF AMBRYM ...... 2O4

A SPIRIT STONE. "WE DID NOT KNOW ABOUT GOD" . 214

MELUN-LUBU. "NO GHOST THIS TIME" . . . 232

THE STATION ....... 242

THE NATIVE CHURCH. (GROUND PLAN) . . . 246

"THY TOUCH HAS STILL ITS ANCIENT POWER" . . 248

"'DESPAIR' . . . CAME SEEKING HELP" . . . 250

THE SYMBOL OF IMMORTALITY .... 278

MAL'S CARD OF INTRODUCTION TO HEAVEN . . 280 MAL'S SYMBOL OF FAREWELL. " WHAT NOW REMAINED?

WHAT BUT FLIGHT?" 281

BOOK I. BUCKLING ON THE ARMOUR

SAINTS AND SAVAGES.

CHAPTER I. The Call.

" GIVE us a whole man."

His voice rang round the gallery and echoed into the dimmest corner of the great church. He was a tall gaunt Scot, whose grey eyes burned in their caverns as they ranged over the pews, vision following appeal hard afoot. His face, or what was visible of it from out the grizzly hair and beard, was tanned by many a tropic sun. An accurate scholar,' a lifelong toiler, he was one of those unimpassioned souls whose work is done in silence. With high resolve and flint- like purpose he had followed his ideal through long and lonely years on a sea-girt rock, striving to tame a few tribes of wild savages. Success or failure made no difference. The path was there, and the vision ; and he followed on unflinchingly. So, much of the finest work on this earth is done ; and the doers pass from our planet, untrumpeted and unsung. Certainly they could never raise the trumpet to their own lips,

4 Buckling on the Armour

be the reason an inborn pride or a humble sense of unworthiness. Alas ! the world takes a man at his own valuation.

A nature cold as steel, yet to - night the sparks were flying. For once the fire reached the surface, and his heart found voice in burning words : —

" Before you to-night the poor widow pauses. 'Tis but for a moment. Note her dress : it is shabby, though clean. Her eyes are downcast. She is ashamed of her small offering — ' two mites .which make a farthing ' — as they chink together and fall into the treasury. Yet into the sacred chest with the mites went her whole heart, — ' all her living,' says our Lord. We ask you not for all your living ; give us but a day's wage. We ask you not for your whole heart ; give us but a share of your sympathy. But cannot this great congregation, out of its abund- ance, give us a whole man ? Ay, give us a whole man."

His cry was being answered. In the left-hand angle of the gallery, the second seat from the top, sat a lad of sixteen years, the soil of whose heart had been prepared for this living seed. His name was Will Goddard, as English as that Englishest of English names, " Tom Brown," if Somerset and Dorset are English ; for his mother hailed from Marston and his father from Sherborne. As the name Stuart originally denoted the sty-warden, and Shepherd the sheep -herd, so Goddard would be the goat-herd; but the dictionaries tell us that it is Old German for pious, virtuous. However that may be, Will himself was born amidst the ferns of the New

The Call 5

Zealand bush, in the early 'Sixties. And of all the fair countries on earth, there were none to him so fair as the two Britains.

Fifteen years agone he had listened to this same messenger, then a swarthy, black-haired man in his prime, who had left his islet in the ocean once before to plead for help, not for himself, but for the islets and islands around, and for a benighted people who were perishing for lack of knowledge. At that time Will was but an infant in his mother's lap, and all of the message he imbibed must have come through his mother's milk. Certainly the text had remained with her, " He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoic- ing, bringing his sheaves with him." It had saturated her mind, and given permanent direction to her thoughts.

She had come, too, of martyr stock — being a direct descendant of Hooper, the eloquent Bishop of Gloucester (" famous next to Latimer "), who, for his sleepless energy, scrupulosity, and loyalty to the truth, was slowly roasted to death before the eyes of his flock. From her grandfather's lips she had heard the story of how the green faggots had thrice to be kindled, as, in the midst of the drawn-out agony, the good man was heard praying and calling for " More fire!"

Apparently the missionary had come back to claim the babe, who was now shooting up towards manhood, a manhood that ought to be broad-minded and liberal- hearted. For, in the meantime, he had been baptised by an itinerant Wesleyan ; confirmed by a bishop in robes of silk and sleeves of lawn ; and now he was listening to a sermon in the kirk, and being called to

6 Buckling on the Armour

its ministry. Such are the vicissitudes of colonial life.

Will had already been four years in business, and latterly had been helping at home. Now, having reached the end of the home tether, he wished to learn some trade, and set about his life's work. One desire dominated his ambition — to find a sphere in which he could serve the Master and devote all spare earnings to His cause. On the morrow he was to set forth and seek his place and work in the world.

As the appeal rang round the church, his colour came and went, the blood surging and ebbing again. Of what use could he be in the mission-field ? What were his qualifications? All that remained with him from his schooling, so frequently interrupted, was a knowledge of the three R's and an honest and willing heart. He could hew wood and draw water, fetch and carry, be a servant to the prophet, and clean his master's shoes. At least he could offer — and he would. Ere the organ pealed forth and the con- gregation dispersed into the darkness and coolness of the night, the resolve was fixed.

Trying to see his way through the uncertainty that hid the future, by the light of the stars he hastened, slowly, along the path to his home.

It was his duty every night to give the horses their late supper. The groom lived at a distance, and left early. Changing his coat, he gathered his buckets and set to work. He had reached the crisis of his life, and his heart was full. As bucketful after bucket- ful of feed was dipped out of the bin, the tears fell fast, dropping among the oats and chaff, and moist- ening the bran. Even the two greys, frisky Kate and

The Call 7

placid Mag, as each received her share, — with a kindly pat of the hand on the neck, — seemed to know there was something unusual. If ever the cloud came down and filled the temple with glory, so was the stable filled that night. The heart laid upon the altar was filled with a joy that could only find relief in floods of silent tears, a joy never to be forgotten. Through a life of sorrow, of trouble and disappointed hopes, it remained — a steady beacon, shining most brightly when the darkness was deepest. It is strange how in the greatest moments of life the smallest details seen by the eye remain fixed indelibly on the memory, as though the brain for that brief instant had become a camera. The lantern seemed to shine with unusual brilliance, and the clean straw flashed back its beams from floor and stall. There were no angels visible, and no rustle of shining wings ; only a plain white- washed stable, the scraping of restive hoofs, the whinny- ing of happy contented animals. But the glory was there ; and the stable became a vision, as of heaven on earth, of the golden floor, or as when the angels sang and their flame lit up the sheepcotes on the meadows of Bethlehem. Like Moses, he had come to a " burning bush " and had received his call.

At last the work was done. He blew out the candle, closed the stable -doors, and, fixing the peg in the staple, recrossed the yard, the light of a new-born hope, and joy, on his face. His heart was filled with a new purpose and with a new sense of power to attempt it.

" Mother, may I speak with you a minute ? "

They withdrew into the passage ; it was dark there.

" I want, to go to the mission-field, and I am going to offer to-morrow. Will you tell father ? "

8 Buckling on the Armour

There was a long pause. Then came a tender kiss, the only answer, and —

" Good night, Will."

" Good night, mother."

He did not know then, what he was to learn years afterwards, that this was seemingly the answer to a long- continued prayer of some thirty years. There were twelve in the family, and from her first-born onward she had offered a son to God's service. So far the only answer had been in the case of wee Harry, who was taken in infancy, and was growing up- and doing service " in the palace of the King." Such is a mother's faith.

His father, too, was quite willing, and proud that it should be so.

Two days later the tide of Will's enthusiasm had ebbed — till the beach was dry. He was down on his knees in the clay of the stable, paving a stall with cobble-stones. That was a light task, but the sweat rolled off his brow with the struggle going on within. It seemed as though the snapping of a straw would have turned him from his purpose. The missionary, and his pastor too, had both been interviewed, and they had both told him that unskilled labour was not wanted in the mission-field. There were plenty of natives for that. He must brush up his education ; study for ordination ; learn to address meetings ; and then go forth, himself fully equipped.

Shy and diffident, to him the ordeal of having to face a crowd was crushing. For, in those four years, the technicalities of his learning had evaporated from the memory, leaving a deposit in which even verbs, adverbs, and conjunctions had become indistinguish- able. How could he, with nervous, stammering

The Call 9

tongue, ever be able to address others? For he did stammer at times, and that badly. Yet his advisers were quite right. If a man cannot get the best train- ing for such a high calling, let him get the best he can. Unskilled assistants are as much a humbug in the mission -field as elsewhere; and they are the last to think it of themselves. Let a man know something well ; be a carpenter, engineer, teacher, electrical operator. Such men, teachable and apt to teach, are wanted in this field as they are otherwhere. It is the fluent nobody, who cannot drive a nail; who runs about, Bible under arm, and knowing little of its spirit ; who can never see when a window needs cleaning, a floor sweeping, a lamp trimming, though his leader must both see and do, — such men, untrained to steady application, and ignorant of their own deficiencies, are ever ready to claim the prophets' shoes, and waiting to demand his mantle. One thing they often can do — write up glowing reports.

So he was told, and so he learned by bitter experi- ence in after-years.

" God help me ! "

He did. For had He not spoken a parable to this end, " that men ought always to pray, and not to faint."

So men rise above difficulties ; and so, in this case, the straw did not snap.

" It was the toughest battle of my life," he said long afterwards. Nothing ever after assailed his courage so severely, not even the facing of large congregations nor of the General Assembly itself. For he had met them already — and conquered.

He paused.

io Buckling on the Armour

" No," he added, " there was one other day that tried me sorely. I once answered my dear old mother back sharply. The words were hardly out of my mouth when my heart smote me. There were two miserable people in the house that day. When bedtime came, there was no sleep for me till we had met in the passage again, and I had been forgiven. I thank God for such a mother."

Will was not a man " to carry his heart on his sleeve for daws to peck at." I never knew a lad, or man, more reticent concerning himself. At times there was a look in his eyes that made one instinctively turn away ; he was filled with some thought " too deep for tears," which it was sacrilege to probe. Indeed, he himself would lament that he was a " dumb dog " and could not speak, as could others, of what are known as religious experiences. But there are times when the sacred doors are fitly thrown wide, and the glory of the inner sanctum shines forth. Such a moment came one night on Ambrym. We were sitting on a bank of broken coral in a bay on the north-east end of the island, waiting for the tide to rise high enough to float our boat over the reef. The risen moon cast her glow upon the waters, the silver pathway reaching almost to our feet, barred only by the black line of the yet un- covered rocks. At every flow of the incoming tide the water softly lapped the coral fragments, down whose steep banks the hermit-crabs rolled and tinkled unheeded. In quiet undertones, as of a chant, Will recited the story of how he had been led to these distant bounds of the habitable earth. It was a story intended only for my own ears, but it was so truly " a feast of reason and a flow of soul " — though chiefly the latter — that I am constrained to share it with others.

The Call

ii

In doing so I hope I am not proving untrue to my friend's now sainted memory.

For, of a truth, Will was a saint.

The hours sped swiftly. Will was the first to note the change. Suddenly springing to his feet, he ex- claimed—

" Let us up, and be off; the tide is in."

THE WATER-CLOCK.— SEE PAGE 14.

12

CHAPTER II. Will as a Student.

" You are burning the candle at both ends ; and you have only one candle to burn."

So his fellow-student, Lang, advised him as they stood in cap and gown before the fire. It was a raw day in winter. They were in the mathematical class- room. The lecture was over ; the professor had retired and the body of students dispersed ; and the two were free to enjoy their pocket luncheons and compare notes.

Three years had passed since the inward tussle over the cobble-stones. Will was now an undergraduate and a junior scholar.

Though almost at the foot of the ladder, he had forthwith begun study in earnest. Several kind friends, themselves students, were found willing to lend a guiding hand. By the time he had crossed the " pons asinorum " in Euclid, the untrained brain-cells began to rebel through sheer weariness. Again, at a mission- ary meeting, a cloud as of Egyptian darkness seemed to envelop him. And though, at these times, in response to prayer, there seemed to be "no voice, nor any that answered," he had put his hand to the plough and would not turn back.

Will as a Student 13

Success followed perseverance, and was the best kind of encouragement. Up in the early mornings, pacing the floor by candle-light, — softly, to avoid waking his brothers, and wrapped in an ulster, he read hard at ' Sound, Light, and Heat.' Often as he reached the end of the attic, he forgot to turn, and unconsciously slept, till his knees gave way, or the book fell with a bang to the floor. Pocket-money was scarce in those days, and, scared at his own extrav- agance, he hid his first parcel of books, a Smith's Roman History and an Ancient Atlas, under the shrubs in the garden, till he could smuggle them upstairs unobserved. On another occasion he sold a valuable gold chain, a gift from an employer, to pay for college fees. In two years the matriculation ex- amination was passed ; but in two or three subjects the marks fell just below the scholarship line. He put back for a year, and tried again.

It was a race for knowledge — a race in which many fall, not to rise again. For the prizes were a necessity, and competition was keen. Already he had found kind and unostentatious friends among the teachers and professors. One of them was an enthusiast for English Literature, and some of the struggling and deserving students, Will among the number, occasionally found, on the rack in the hall of the College, sealed envelopes addressed to them. Each contained a cheque cover- ing the fees of that class for the ensuing session. Will rewarded his benefactor by finally taking his M.A. with first-class honours in English and Latin Literature.

Thus encouraged, severer application followed. At home he was allowed a room to himself; and he filled the lining of the walls with sawdust, and constructed a double door likewise, to shut out extraneous noises.

14 Buckling on the Armour

Seven to eight hours was the maximum of sleep taken, and nine o'clock the hour for bed.

As an alarm-clock failed to rouse him in the morning, he cast about to construct a water-clock, which, after a little adjusting, proved effective.

This simple piece of mechanism was fastened on the wall beside his bed. It consisted of a bracket, a long and a short lever, and a rope, one end of which was knotted round one wrist and the other attached to a weight, in this instance a brick. The water in the full tin A was conveyed by capillary action along a wet-ted thread of worsted, and dripped into B. At the end of eight hours the accumulated drips in B were sufficient to raise the lever at C and release the small weight (an iron nut) at D. D, falling, pulled the ring E off its curved peg, and thus released the brick F, which there- upon gave a sharp tug to the sleeper. It kept tugging and pulling at the hand beneath the bedclothes till he was roused up. Sometimes Will was awakened by the pain at the wrist ; sometimes he found himself sitting bolt-upright in bed ; at other times the knots were un- tied while the brain slept on, and only the blue mark on the wrist remained to tell the story. Sometimes, too, that best of mothers would steal into the room before going to bed, and gently untie the knot, if it could be done without waking him.

Again, that the brain might remain clear and an extra half-hour be thus gained for study, the amount of food taken at meal-times was reduced to the minimum. Alas, what a fool he was ! — robbing both nerve and body cells of the mental and physical stores of energy that should have been laid by for his life's work. Despite this self-inflicted rigour and discipline, he de- veloped into a stout, square-shouldered man. That

Will as a Student 15

year's work (the third) added 1042 marks to the total, and secured a university scholarship for three years. Therewith cap-and-gown life began, and at the end of that period came the B.A. degree, an exhibition in science (£20), and a senior scholarship. Another strenuous year of teaching and study won for him the M.A. with the coveted honours, and therewith the Arts course was complete.

And the Arts course of the University of New Zealand was a fair test of education. The Senatus Academicus had determined that her degrees should be above suspicion or reproach. To this end they had secured the services of the professors of the University of London to act as examiners. Consequently there was some delay in obtaining the results of the examina- tions. But no true student regretted the unavoidable expenditure of patience ; rather, he weighed it against the higher status thus attained, and felt more than content to wait for the cables from home.

In the meantime his horizon had widened, and new ideals had risen to view. Some friends in the ministry were impatient for him to be gone to the mission-field. At the same time there was a conflict in his own breast. Should he confine his efforts to preaching, pure and simple, or try to win men by combining with it a life of service ? So acute a phase did the question assume, that, one morning early, taking with him his pocket Bible and Arthur's ' Tongue of Fire,' he sought a secret spot beneath the oaks on the far side of the wide-spreading park. There, on the river's bank, he pondered the matter and sought for guidance. No mystic voice gave answer from out the clouds of uncertainty ; only the rats came out of their holes and nibbled at the acorns, or sat up like squirrels and

1 6 Buckling on the Armour

played " hide and seek " among the leaves and grass. Yet the ideal of a life of service triumphed. From that day the burden of life seemed lighter and the road straight ahead.

He felt more in sympathy with men, and could pursue his path with buoyancy. For with many the " Stand and deliver " policy addressed to their souls only drives them farther from the Kingdom. The Christ first healed the sick, and then said unto them, "the Kingdom of God is come nigh unto you." Thus the Prince of sowers first prepared His soil. Moreover He sent out His disciples to do likewise. "The Son of man is come to minister and to give His life." The programme of Christianity is towards the poor, the maimed, the captive, and the lost, to give them a garland and the oil of joy. An era of strenuous ser- vice is dawning, and the " Angels of the Churches " are becoming the angels of the gutter and the slum. For Christianity is a campaign of love.

So the truth shone anew at Will from every page of the Gospels. The waving grass and rustling oaks, the placid crystal stream, and even the confiding little creatures around, with their shining, beady, black eyes, seemed to whisper the lesson of Nature —

" Trust in God, and do the next thing," and to join in the note of the Evangel —

" Despairing of no man, never despairing." x

At sunset he withdrew from his hiding-place, and returned home to his studies with a lighter heart, and in happier vein.

1 R.V., Luke vi. 35, and marginal reading.

CHAPTER III. Edinburgh.

Two dangers were looming large ahead — rocks on which many a promising youth, destined for the ministry, has ended his career : The theory of Evolu- tion, and the doctrine of the Authority of the Scrip- tures. Many of his fellow -students in the colonial university were seriously inclined ; and these subjects were earnestly discussed and debated among them. Will felt more every day that some satisfactory solution of these questions must be reached, if he were to be able to give an answer for the faith that was in him. Therefore he resolved to go to the sources of learning and attempt to reach the bed-rock of knowledge. At least he would see what was already known for fact, and ascertain how the best minds were solving these difficulties. And so, before the results of the last ex- amination were known, with but a few pounds in his pocket, he was on board the s.s. Doric, of the White Star line, bound round Cape Horn for London and Edinburgh. There, at the head-waters of learning, he hoped to be able to pursue his studies, and, if possible, obtain a training in medicine and divinity. Arriving in Edinburgh at the beginning of the summer, he took in hand at once the subjects of

B

1 8 Buckling on the Armour

Hebrew and Botany. Funds soon ran low, and no suitable work seemed obtainable. At the critical moment a five-pound note came to hand unexpectedly from his college friend in New Zealand. Thereafter the path was fairly easy, despite occasional pinchings of the shoe.

Once only was he really dumfounded. It was in this wise. During one winter session he had to hurry from the Divinity Hall to the University, to be in time for the next lecture. Passing along George IV. Bridge, he got a glass of hot milk and a couple of biscuits at a shop by the way. His pockets were empty, but he yet had one coin left — a half-sovereign. Drawing his purse from his breast-pocket to pay for his rapid lunch, he found it — empty !

Puzzled for a while, he afterwards remembered that his coat had been hung where another could get at it. His suspicions were afterwards confirmed. In innocent trustfulness and desire to help another, he had been harbouring a snake in his bosom, which afterwards bit him venomously. This experience accounts for the development of a harder trait in his character. He changed the rule of conduct hitherto followed, " Speak no ill of any man," to " Speak of every man as you find him ; and suffer no nonsense." Always after that he refused to cherish suspicions, and either dismissed the thought, or, at the risk of giving offence, demanded a straight-out answer from the person concerned. To do so is not always possible. But to harbour a suspicion is to cherish a canker at one's heart : it destroys one's peace, and robs life of its beauty. Despite his gentleness, this firm demand for honesty in look and deed engendered respect in others, and in some fear.

Edinburgh 19

Hitherto his Sundays had been devoted to teaching and preaching, so that on becoming a student of the Medical Missionary Society, he was appointed assist- ant, and then superintendent, of the Cowgate Chil- dren's Church. The children met in the ancient, historic Magdalene Chapel, the chapel of the " Guild of the Hammer-men." It is the birthplace of Pres- byterian Assemblies. John Knox preached there, and the chair he used is still shown. Thus Will could truly say that he had sat in the seat and taught from the pulpit of the great Reformer.

During part of their training the students resided in the Cowgate beside the Chapel, so that they might be in close touch with the poor of the slums, for whom they laboured gratuitously. Soon Will had a fairly wide practice, week-days and Sundays, among the little ones, whom he loved both to teach and to tend. When confronted with cases more difficult than ordinary, the students could fall back on the assistance of the seniors and of the resident physician. However, Will was never quite in the position of the man who, when asked why he had failed to diagnose a case of scarlet fever, replied —

" Sir, we have only just finished measles."

Two Drummond scholarships won in the Divinity Hall lightened the financial burden. But, like so many students of the Scottish Universities, he was indebted to a mother's love for instalments, which, though coming so far and somewhat irregularly, suf- ficed for him to hold on without check.

Truly it was a difficult problem to solve, how to follow the two courses of study at one and the same time successfully. The children, too, demanded the whole of Sunday and many an hour in the week. The

20 Buckling on the Armour

task had been an impossible one had his previous work not been thorough. No knot had been allowed to go by untied, no skein left in a tangle. He under- stood what he had learned, and the ground felt firm beneath his feet. Some one had said, " Revision is the secret of success ; revise, and again revise ; and revise again." Will endeavoured to do so, though once and again he had only two minutes to prepare for an examination as he stood at the doorway in the quadrangle, kicking the snow off his shoes and glanc- ing rapidly over the summarised notes. His fellows had already entered and were driving their quills.

" You can't do it, sir. You will find medicine hard enough a mistress in herself. She claims all your homage."

Thus Sir William Turner, as he ate his lunch out of a packet on his knee in one of the side-rooms of the anatomy theatre. In order to retain his divinity scholarship, Will found it necessary to take the lectures on anatomy in the College of Surgeons. Sir William's permission had to be asked ; and it meant a refund of four guineas by the professor. It was not that, but the indignation of the enthusiast for his own subject, which flavoured the sound advice with a spice of wrath. Will listened humbly ; secured permission ; and went his way.

" What ? Are you going to make converts with bad surgery ? D'ye call that Christianity ? "

So Professor Chiene. " Honest John " the students called him ; whose Socratic method of questioning

Edinburgh 21

was as much feared, as he himself was respected and admired. It was Chiene who, addressing his students, said —

" Gentlemen, if you are going to succeed you must be angels. You must make each patient feel that there is only one patient in the world ; that the case of greatest interest is the one before you."

But Will was no mean surgeon. I have watched him do the most serious of operations with complete success. With myself giving the chloroform, he had but one assistant, an untrained woman. With needles already threaded, the instruments laid out around him, and every step thought out beforehand, he was able to accomplish what in civilisation required two or three assistants, and as many nurses.

Saturday was a high day among the students. The big theatre in the Royal Infirmary was packed with them, rising in semicircles, tier above tier, to the very ceiling, a living wall. It was Edinburgh's palmiest days, when streets and theatres swarmed with students, Scottish and English and from over- sea. A curly-headed little fellow, from the West, lay on the table. His right foot was to come off. He glanced at the gruesome trays of knives and saws, the awesome bottles, the living wall of faces. Sud- denly, pushing aside the chloroform towel, he looked into the eyes of the surgeon bending over him, and his shrill voice piped aloud —

" Will ye no pray first ? "

There was a time when writers loved to describe students of medicine as a lot of rollicking swillers and rakes ; when such a cry might have been drowned in ribald laughter. But all this had been changed. The University had discovered the secret of control ; had

22 Buckling on the Armour

given the students a voice in the government, and made them responsible for keeping order. Lister and Syme, the author of ' Rab and his Friends,' large souls like Sir James Y. Simpson, Henry Drummond, and Walter Smith, had not lived and taught in vain.

Glancing from the surgeon to the wall of faces beyond, and back again, he fixed his eyes wistfully on the face, palest of all, above him. A tear trembled on each of the young lids, and again the distressed little voice was heard —

" Can ye no pray ? "

The surgeon wheeled round on his heel.

" Now, you mission lads, show your mettle."

There was dead silence. As no one else seemed about to move, a tall dark figure in the third row stood up. He was an African ; French, Dutch, and English blood ran in his veins — in short, he was a Boer. There was an incipient round of applause, but the surgeon raised his hand.

" Our Father in heaven, bless the little man on the table and bring him safely through ; and bless the efforts of Thy skilful servant. For Thy name's sake. Amen."

Again there was a round of applause.

" 'Cute beggar," whispered a wag audibly from the ceiling ; " he'll pass ! "

A titter of laughter rippled from bench to bench, and even the surgeon smiled. The African blushed. He was quite innocent ; but, seeing the point, he joined in the laugh. Curly-head on the table opened his eyes in wonderment. He could not understand it. He too smiled and fell asleep. The operation proceeded.

In those days John Stuart Blackie was still to be

Edinburgh 23

seen in the streets of the city. His flowing white locks and the grey check plaid round his shoulders were a familiar sight. Occasionally he gave a lecture, and the students crowded to hear him. I have still by me a cartoon which appeared in 'The Student,' the weekly organ of the Students' Representative Council of those days. Though he was now "pro- fessor emeritus," he was still possibly the youngest in spirit of all Edinburgh's Students, and ready for a frolic. The mischievous artist has not forgotten that.

But the prince of teachers and lecturers was Pro- fessor A. B. Davidson. No class-room was more orderly — no work more strenuous. For he was pre- eminent not merely for flashes, but slashes, of wit. The men hung on his lips, and the whip was seldom used — on them.

The merriest of all class-rooms was, perhaps, Bili- rubin's (Professor Rutherford's). The students pro- vided their own mirth, and strove to get their innings before the stout, dark-haired man " sailed " on to the platform. There was no chance afterwards. Some- times he was greeted with " Here comes the bogie man ! " at other times with a song or a psalm, as the "Old Hundredth"; and he had to wait patiently, wagging his head from side to side, and rolling his eyes, till the singers had bestowed on themselves, with the floor as their sounding-board, a prolonged measure of applause.

Times had indeed changed. A genuine, manly, Christian sentiment had taken a firm grip of chair and auditorium. There was no sickliness about it. Life had lost none of its rosiness or vigour ; nor was learning less eager, less keen and ambitious. Men were not ashamed to confess their convictions.

24 Buckling on the Armour

Rather was it the other way. It was Sir James Simp- son himself, who, when asked by an admirer what he considered his greatest discovery, replied —

" That I have a Saviour ! "

Such an answer is explained by the fact that a wave of evangelism was passing over the city. There was no half -heart about these men. They were Christians without shame or sham. And they proved their sincerity by the thoroughness of their work.

" No, I don't believe in this combining of Divinity with Medicine, — I don't believe in it."

This was said in a thin, high-pitched voice, and the tall figure of the speaker, clad in black, with a strong look of disapproval on his face, vanished through the doorway. This was Dr Thomas Smith, who had himself successfully taught in Indian class-rooms as Professor of Mathematics and Divinity.

However, Will was not daunted. Specialisation is the cry to-day. And the man who would succeed in the highly developed centres of modern civilisation must needs be a specialist. But among primitive peoples it is the man who is good all round that is required. Every finger must be developed; for there the one-fingered man is at a discount.

No ; in the winter sessions it was not easy to prevent the medical and divinity lectures from clashing, and only by reading up in the vacations was Will able to hold his own. It is noteworthy how the wisest men sometimes make mistakes. One day Will found him- self in the study of that ardent student and abettor of students, the minister of Free St George's. He brought away three words —

Edinburgh 25

" Work ; work ; work ; — your student days will never come back."

Such advice in this case was, to use the colonial phrase, like " carrying coals to Newcastle." Will was working much too hard already — indeed, always had. Twice, when the winter sessions were in full swing, brain fever was threatening. He had to crawl home to his " digs " across the Meadows, take a purge and a sleeping-draught, draw the blinds, and try to sleep for two or three days. As soon as the congestion was relieved, and the temperature had fallen, he crept forth and began to attend lectures again with the utmost caution. In this he was not alone; for, in many of the more thronged classes, there were men at the top who visibly wore the flesh off their bones as the examinations drew nearer. Like them he won a fair share of the honours and prizes : two medals in Chemistry and Biology in the College of Surgeons and Medical School ; also the first senior prize in Mid- wifery and Diseases of Women. In the fifth year the L.R.C.P.S. in the College, and the B.Sc. and B.D. degrees in the University, capped his efforts. In the final divinity examinations, anticipating only a good pass, he relaxed his efforts, but found himself only a few marks behind the Cunningham scholar: thus he just missed the highest prize obtainable, a travelling scholarship.

But Will, like other men, had his failures. Once, indeed, he had to admit a " plucking," and that for a small paper in Greek, set by the Edinburgh F.C. Presbytery. The paper contained a few "nuts," put in as a test of special preparation. Will, relying on his general knowledge of Greek, failed to crack them. For the University examinations were then proceeding,

26 Buckling on the Armour

and demanded all his attention. Thus, strange to say, he was " plucked " for working too hard.

For Will had to learn, with others, that it is possible to attempt too much even in a good cause. He had also to learn that goodness and success have each their price, and that, to keep the one, a man may have to part with the other. It may and does happen that a man, in being unselfishly true to the ideal of his nobler self, must forgo winning the highest academic honours, — so dear to the soul of the student. In a series of sensational articles appearing in an influential religious weekly, the character of the colonial students had been unfairly, nay, scurrilously besmirched.

They appealed to Will, among others, to help in refuting the gross charges. With another good-hearted fellow he spent many a precious afternoon over the University records, and thereby helped to re-establish the good name and standing of the colonials. It was proved that for some years the Australasians had carried off a much higher percentage of prizes, medals, and honours than an equal number of average students. But when the final examinations came, the hope there- by of winning distinction and a gold medal for himself had vanished. It was but a common incident in —

" The deadly trial of goodness — the doing right, and suffering for it, quite finally.

" And that is life, as God arranges it." l

1 Ethics of the Dust.

BOOK II. ON THE FIELD

CHAPTER I. Reconnoitring: Dreams and Realities.

" A TIGHT fit this ! "

" Yes, rather."

It was nightfall, and we were perched up on top of the little skylight, my wife and I.

By the side of the mail -steamer the ss. Cray don seemed about the size of a launch. When at last the cargo had been transferred, and the signal to leave given, we climbed down into her and were cast off. Then it was we found that she was laden with another cargo, for the most part invisible, of odours and cock- roaches. But she was to be our home among the islands for a month to come, and we were determined to make the best of things.

I went down to the saloon to explore our quarters. The bunks looked right enough, and the linen snowy white; but, on pulling out a drawer below the under berth, there was a tremendous " scutter." I shut it to with a bang, hoping that the "brownies" would keep within their hiding-place. Praising the little cabins as being both cool and cosy, I next introduced my wife to hers. Alas ! as we descended the com- panion-way, a huge red fellow, some two inches long, sailed in at the door before our eyes, and perched

30 On the Field

himself on the topmost pillow. He turned and waved his antennae, — whether to welcome or dispute our entry remains unsolved. It was enough.

" Ugh ! what bed-fellows. The deck for me." That was final.

The wind rose and the rain descended. The little steamer ducked beneath the waves, and rolled from side to side, till the decks were swamped.

From the centre of the skylight an iron stanchion passed upward to support the frail wooden awning overhead, the stanchion being stiffened by an iron, stay at each side sloping up to its middle. By persever- ing we found it possible to wriggle between stanchion and stays j1 and so, curled up as if on a table, and firmly gripped by the bars at the waist, we were soon sound asleep, — more sound, perhaps, than Jacob at Bethel, though our dreams were not so "high and lifted up."

We saw but the lower half of his ladder, and it had widened with time till it was as broad as a great stair- way. Not angels, but poor weak mortals, were on it ; men of every garb, and no garb ; of every tongue and age, who strove and climbed — to fall and climb again. Most of them had no wings ; but, as they climbed, the wings budded, and they passed from sight. For, even among the heathen, —

" Some there be that by due steps aspire To lay their just hands on that golden key, That opes the palace of eternity."

Like Jacob, too, we were very tired, so heeded not the rattle of the thunder and the angry hiss of the sea. We were literally hugging the mountain-tops, on the bosom of the flood. There was no dreaming about

THE ROUTE THROUGH THE GROUP.

Dreams and Realities 31

that fact. For these islands are but the central, and the topmost, peaks of a long and lofty range submerged beneath the waters. The range extends over seven hundred miles from north to south ; and as the earth here whirls round at a thousand miles an hour, and as the tides rise and fall, the ocean sweeps through the gaps on the mountain ridge, giving rise to rough seas, swift currents, and tossing rips.

The land is slowly moving upwards, and extending its area. As the earth's crust contracts and creases, the ridges rise, and the Jurrows deepen. The coral polyp descends once more to fresh depths and builds again, dotting the Pacific with clear lagoons, walled in with white beaches and green islets.

Thus the islands are volcanic with fringing reefs. A few are still alight, shooting up flames and great volumes of dust, darkening the sky by day, and show- ing up red on the canopy of clouds at night.

In the land of dreams the events of the past and the present were strangely jumbled together. We seemed to be back in the old Dayspring days, when the sails of the mission ship were seen on the horizon but twice in a year, bringing fresh stores for body and mind, and welcome as an angel from heaven.

I awoke with a shock, and found myself gripping the stanchion hard. It was only our little vessel giving a great lurch.

Beautiful though the islands appear, sometimes beautiful as a dream, yet the life itself is sternly real. Experience and necessity soon toughen the fibre, physical and moral. Christmas-cakes and plum- puddings, the love-gifts of far-away friends, may on arrival be found far from appetising. But we are no worse off than our Australian cousins. The "bush

32 On the Field

canary," as they call the big brown fly, is a worse plague than our bluebottle, for which an equally elegant name would be "blue-jay." Both vanish as civilisation advances. And now that the steamer service had supplanted the slow mission ships (peace be to their rotting ribs !), weevily biscuits, and flour that spontaneously rolled down the sides of the cask, would be a thing of the past. Comforted by the thought, I fell asleep again.

When we woke it was morning, and a group of men stood by the taffrail conversing somewhat loudly. It was the mate rapping his pipe on the rail that woke me.

" To trade under that flag," said he, rapping the bowl again to dislodge the ashes and emphasise his disgust, "was a trick worthy of a Noumea nigger."

By " that flag " he apparently meant a white tie.

" Every man to his trade," chimed in a short yellow- whiskered man, Dougal the boat-builder. " But let him stick to his trade and not spoil his neighbour's living."

" Look here, Geordie," said a lanky one-armed Scot known as Dick, addressing the mate, — he had been quietly puffing away at his pipe and watching the smoke, — "your story won't hold water. Hoots, man, do you think a chap's going to leave a good business in the Old Land and come down here among savages to make a few dirty pence in that way ? No, no, it's not good enough." Turning to an old man with flow- ing white beard, and another sallow-faced little fellow who seemed half dead with fever, he went on : " Look at it this way, chaps ; what's the good of getting ex- cited. I'm a trader mysel', and I don't mind. Sup- pose they send a man down here who is a better

Dreams and Realities 33

hand at buying and selling than preaching, you needn't listen to him."

" Why don't their blessed Synod legislate and stop 'em from tradin' ? " said the old man, with a frown. " I send 'em up petitions every year, and they won't do nothin'."

Dick laughed a low soft laugh, resembling a chuckle.

" Perhaps they don't want to legislate. And suppose they did, every man's a bishop on his own island. Don't you know they want to see all the kanakas in petticoats and top-hats? That's not much in our line, eh?"

" I guess not."

" Well, we'd better make it our line. If you don't sell the calico cheap enough, they'll do it for you ! For my part, I'm inclined to give 'em a hand. It's going to be. So we'd better fall in and keep pace."

"They might keep their hands off the copra, any- how," said the little man with the sallow face.

" I wouldn't vex myseP over that," replied Dick. " I had a look through Goddard's note-book, and I assure you every bag of copra his boys made was for building the church — in which we are all welcome to a free seat. As for any profit on axes and knives, it went to buy blankets to cover sick niggers and such- like,— and," he added quietly, "sick white men, too, when they want it."

Dick spoke feelingly, from experience. He spoke, too, with an accent that clearly betrayed his nation- ality. One of the decentest fellows in the Group, he had lost his arm in shooting fish with dynamite, of which spoil the natives get the lion's share. Yet he had held the cartridge and bit the fuse with his own

c

34 On the Field

fingers instead of giving it to some luckless boy, as some do, to throw for him. Beneath his rough bristles there was a kind heart and a fund of humour. Liked and trusted by all, even by cannibals, his opinion was respected.

The mate felt the thrust, and suddenly discovered that he was wanted at the wheel. Seeing me moving, the little group dispersed.

I slipped out from between the iron rods and sat up, feeling rather uncomfortable. It was not that one's motives were unworthy or the qualification's de- fective ; it was the sudden revelation of the atmosphere one had to live in. A missionary may be the "salt of the earth," but down here, too, he was still to be, like the " city set on a hill," a mark for the enemies' guns and a target for every shaft. Doubtless it is well so.

If in pioneering one has to eat with closed or un- observant eyes, and ask no questions for the poor stomach's sake, equally true is it that one must with open eyes see many things, and ask no questions for the conscience' sake. Ten years of the commercial steam services, French and English, in which all classes rub elbows, have wrought a great change in the social life of the Group. It was no uncommon thing in the early 'Nineties to see a trader of the old style coming aboard in island costume — pyjamas — leading a dusky belle. They were setting out to begin life in another island. There is no " marriage bureau" in the New Hebrides, and the missionary does not always live next door. "There is an en- gagement," of course, but it is not of the usual kind. At the end of three years the woman may obtain her pay and release, and go home. The " kids "

Dreams and Realities 35

remain with the father. Their mother may have to go, whether she likes it or not.

However, there are some noble exceptions. Dick was one. He brought a Samoan girl with him from the East, and settled with her on an islet here. They had been living together many years before I met them. In certain company there is no subject re- garding which these men are more reticent than that of their domestic relationships.

" No," he said confidingly, " I'm not going through any white -tie ceremony now. Anis and me are man and wife. I was a wild wanderin' fellow, and I took her and she took me, and she's been a good gal to me all the way along. We're married afore God more 'n some as have a score o' prayin' parsons in at the feast. And I'm not agoing to bring a blush to her face now by making her think we ain't."

And he kept his word to the end.

If one is to be of service to these men and prove their friend, it will not do to " elevate the nostrils " and affect a moral superiority. They are quick to scent a Pharisee, and woe betide him. They don't want you to condone their offences, but it is in the bond that you should be able to " eat and drink with publicans and sinners," and enjoy a good joke with them when one comes along. Even an ex -convict claims to be a judge of true Christianity, and of yours in particular. Any deflection of the needle from the pole soon becomes the subject of unfavourable com- ment, and the ship's deck is the market - place for island gossip. It is not necessary for a story to be true; it is enough that it fits the man and ought to be so. Some one of the missionaries had got into their bad books, and a story was being told about

36 On the Field

him with much quiet chuckling. Their voices had mingled with our sleep and had given colour to our dreams.

Yet we liked these men. Perhaps it was that we had come determined to like them and to find their good points. After all, they were but big brothers who had wandered from home a few years earlier, and had somewhat missed the track.

37

CHAPTER II. The Search.

IT took about a fortnight to make the jaunt round the northern islands. We were anxious to find a healthy site for a central hospital to serve the whole Group, and at the same time to bring the healing art to play on savagery in its pristine nakedness. There were two islands that had special attractions and claims — Santo (north-east) and Ambrym. The former was not only the largest in the Group and the first extensive island to be discovered in the Pacific, but it contained the site of De Quiros' prospective city, the "New Jerusalem," and his river "Jordan." The records show that at first the relations between the islanders and the voyagers was cordial enough. But, after a few days, Spanish improprieties and arrogance stirred the resentment of the natives. The chief, " with perfect justice," drew a line upon the sand, and forbade the white man to cross it. In defiance, the sub- captain, Torres, stepped over it. Instantly an arrow rang against his steel corselet. A volley was the re- sponse. The chief and several of his followers bit the dust. Thus the whites were the first aggressors. The people at North Santo, too, had reached the length of making simple but artistic pottery. And so

38 On the Field

far its heathenism was almost untouched. But it is away from the centre.

Ambrym, on the other hand, is central. It is a garden of cocoa-nut palms, and for its size is about the most populous island of all. Selwyn, Patteson, Copeland, Mackenzie, Paton, and others had landed upon its shores, and my two predecessors had built a house at Ranon in a bay at the north-east. After a few months of arduous service, each had been com- pelled to retire in broken health. For four or five years the people had been without a missionary, and the committee in New Zealand, to whom that island had been assigned as a field, were desirous to resume the work there as soon as possible should the locality be found suitable. But I was left a free hand.

Soon after daybreak on a Sunday morning we steamed into the bay on Santo that seemed most desirable for our purpose.

Two or three miles up the coast we had passed a station manned by two Catholic priests, the first missionaries on this side. We must give these their due, for, as a rule, they were seldom first in this field.

The sun shone brightly down on a sheet of blue water. Behind us a timbered island, shaped like a high -crowned broad -brimmed hat, closed in the en- trance. On either side limestone cliffs rose abruptly from the water's edge, green vines trailing adown their face. At the head of the bay a white beach sloped gently down from the woods to the water's edge. But there was no sign of life, or of human habita- tion. Again and again the steamer's whistle awoke the echoes from far and wide, and at last a crowd was seen gathering on the sand.

A smart lad, who had been in Queensland and

The Search 39

could speak a little English, came off in a canoe and clambered on board. David, our warm-hearted colleague and cicerone, and one of the purest, most guileless souls that ever set foot on a deck, was soon in conversation with him, and sent him off to summon the people to come and meet us.

David had his own story to tell, and carried a tragedy and a great disappointment hidden in his breast. We had passed his station on one of the savage islands a little farther south. During a pre- liminary visit to that island one of the bigger chiefs had expressed a willingness to receive him, and had promised to light a fire on the beach as a signal on the return of the vessel. The day came, and they looked in vain for the smoke. A few miles farther on they saw a fire, landed, and were welcomed. When the other chief heard of the arrival, though the fault was on his side, he was indignant. He was feared by all the lesser tribes around, including the people among whom David had settled. Indeed, he was accustomed to send now to one village, now to another, and de- mand a human " roast." The petty chiefs dared not refuse, and at one time a child, at another a well-fed youth, had to be given up and sent along, pig fashion, slung to a pole, to fill the maw of the man-eater.

Now his ill-will was directed against the mission- ary, and bullets began to find their way through the windows of the mission-house. At nightfall the doors had to be closed and barred, and if a light were re- quired, the windows had first to be blanketed. Other- wise the missionary and his wife sat in darkness from sundown till bedtime. One night, 'hearing a noise on the verandah, he stepped out into the darkness, and was confronted by a bright flash and a loud report.

40 On the Field

But the bullet missed its mark and the miscreant fled. Such trials are not without their due physical effect, and "shattered nerves" result. About this time a brother and a sister missionary arrived for company and aid, the latter also with "shattered nerves." A catastrophe followed, over which we draw the veil. David had shortly to forgo the ambitions of his young life and rejoin his wife in Australia. He is now shepherding a portion of his Master's flock in the droughty inland west. Happy the people who have such a shepherd.

After a hurried breakfast a boat was manned, and we were pulled rapidly to the shore. Suddenly the supercargo, a stalwart German, rose up in the boat with the cry —

" This is madness : we'll all be murdered. There isn't a weapon in the boat."

We all smiled, my wife too ; and at David's calm response, " No, no ; that is where our safety lies," he subsided into his seat.

Nowhere have I seen more beautiful shallows. The deeper pools were tinted with the colours of the sky. Nearer the shore the rippling water, clear as a crystal prism, scattered the rays of the morning sun, and transformed the golden grains below to gleam- ing opal.

But there was little time to admire, for we were already in touch with the black crowd before us. The men were armed with muskets and belts of cart- ridges, the women and children with long knives. They believed our mission to be one of peace, but were prepared for emergencies. Strong arms drew the boat to land, and we all jumped out, — all except my wife. David called the chief and asked him to bid

The Search 41

his people lay down their arms, for we had none, and the lady too would come ashore. In a few moments muskets and knives were piled in a heap on a bank in the shade of the wood, and two youths, like shining statues, proudly mounted guard. Then we had a good look at one another, and many and various were the questions put. But eyes and tongues were not enough, and soon their hands were busy. To the women and girls their white sister was the centre of attraction. White feathers adorned their own hair, and the sight of a white wing in the little grey felt hat drew their smiles and formed a bond of sympathy. Softly they touched it, and gazed with cries of delight at the rosy cheeks, blue eyes, and golden hair. But the acme of excitement was reached when a sleeve was unbuttoned and revealed an arm of purest white. Their eyes sparkled; their delight knew no bounds; and they found relief in a chorus of shrill voices, waving their hands and dancing on the sand.

Leaving them thus occupied, we turned our atten- tion to the men. Some of them were broad, deep- chested fellows, and I drew out my tape to measure the tallest. Two or three of them were six feet or over. We questioned them. Did they want a missionary? Would they sell him land? Yes, they were quite willing; and led us away to see the ground. Then we had to go and see their village too. An hour or two sped by quickly, and we once more gathered to the boat.

With the cry, " Very good, you come back soon ! " they pushed us off, and we returned to the steamer. We were never there again. Two years afterwards a young Scotsman — a Glasgow graduate — with his

42 On the Field

wife settled in their midst, but not before those pearly waters had been stained with blood.

A few days later we were dropping anchor in Ranon Bay. Rocco & Son were settled here on the white sands, doing a big trade in copra. A quarter of a mile farther along the shore, on a stony bluff, and partly hidden by an iron-wood tree, was the pioneer mission-house. We passed Rocco senior going to the steamer in his boat as we pulled ashore, so I did not visit his station. Report credited him with being rather a fierce neighbour. At the mission landing the sea water was muddy and uninviting, soiled by a neigh- bouring stream. There was no beach, but a stretch of cobble-stones washed up by storms.

We climbed up the track. Perched on huge cobble- stones laid singly, some on their edge and some on the flat, and looking down on the sea, was the house — of two rooms and a lean-to. It smelt fusty from long disuse, lacked paint, and had been officially described as a " shell." It was more than that. It was a tomb of sad memories — a dead wife, a broken heart, an un- hinged mind, ruined hopes ! It had been built, and that neatly, before the days of steamers; and there were many worse houses in the Group.

The native church at the rear, built of thatch and reeds, had collapsed. The preacher's desk had fallen to the ground, and was occupied by a huge black tusker. At my approach he jumped to his feet and ran off, grunting out his irritation.

Needless to remark, my spirits were damped, and my heart sank. But for faith in a Living Flame — ever-present, invisible, omnipotent — one might have been tempted to turn and flee in despair. At such a time one's soul feels naked and powerless; feeble

The Search 43

in the face of a foreign tongue, hostile neighbours, and entrenched heathenism. And the lower the grade (this was pretty low), the more difficult is it to assail. A glance over a stone wall in the village at some carved and painted images had revealed a degree of depravity that was hideous. And here was I, come to fight and transform all this, with an Idea, and from such a fulcrum.

Yet are we told that " an idea is still the alchemist that turns the world to gold." And already there was a ray of light shining amid the dreariness. Kalasong, the teacher, had beat the school drum ; and, in re- sponse, some twenty to thirty ill -looking, limping specimens, of all sizes and both sexes, gathered on the verandah. To honour the occasion they had hastily donned their five-year-old shirts, sere and yellow with smoke and age.

Looking round for a seat, I inquired of Kalasong what those old biscuit-barrels contained, — there were two in the driest part of the verandah. We stepped up to them and looked in.

"What's this, Kalasong?"

" Straw."

" What straw ? "

" From the mattresses."

Honest fellow ! As the rats had devoured the bed- ding he had gathered up the falling straws and saved them for the new missionary. Ultra-honest boy !

How could one fail to be tickled, and, indeed, re-heartened ?

However, I preferred to build on a virgin founda- tion, and at a spot more central to the Group. A few hours later we were anchored near Dip Point, the most westerly angle of the island. Here we found

44 On the Field

a fine anchorage for ships, and an extended reef pro- tecting the shore, with good boat passages. The beach was of black sand, but the water was clear, and the bathing grounds ample and safe.

Best of all, from the Peak, a spur of which, termin- ating abruptly, forms the Point, most of the islands could be sighted, and we were right in the track of the shipping. But could we get land ?

We wandered along through the woods to the village, and when we saw the people, sitting in dust, working in dust, and more or less covered with dust, and "black dust at that, I confess my heart gravitated towards my boots again.

Nevertheless their need was the greater. They could not help being dusty. The soil is of volcanic ash, and when dry resembles fine gunpowder.

When, at a later date, Will and I took a day to explore, the mercury in the spiritual barometer rose again. We found there were ten villages within a gunshot of the mission site. And we went home singing " Praise God from whom all blessings flow." We found, too, what time also proved true, that these children of the woods fall readily in love with a merry nature, as they are slow to draw to one who is staid and solemn.

On the beach, after much hunting, we at length came upon the chief. He was followed by a troop of red, white, and black terriers. They were his body- guard by day and night. Yes, he would sell us a site, and at once trotted us round a triangular block, right between the boat-landings. But he was not going to take barter for land ; it must be pigs and some tobacco, the coin of his realm. We deferred the purchase to a later visit.

"CHILDREN OF THE WOODS."

The Search 45

On the shore we faced each other again to say fare- well. He looked at me, and I looked at him. In that brief glance we summed each other up.

" Here," said he to himself, " is the man I want. Now I'll have a boat, pigs, tobacco, axes, knives, calico, desirable things of all kinds. True, he's a missionary ; but that doesn't concern me. Best of all, I'll be the biggest chief on the coast, and have protection from the bushmen. Moreover, he seems a pleasant fellow, and shows one respect. Can't go far wrong in taking him. Am sure he's soft and easily managed."

And said I to myself, " I like the chief. He's a pleasant old fellow — though not so old either. Can't see much of his eyes ; but he has a passable face, and a fairly good smile ; seems genial, and unobtrusive, and does not say much. Should get on well here with such an ally. Feel sure he's soft and easily managed."

Again we were aboard, and the little steamer was ploughing her way southwards.

The object of our search had been gained.

46

CHAPTER III. No Man's Land.

IT was about ten in the morning. Once more we had dropped anchor — this time in an open roadstead, but close inshore. A long white beach lay spread out before us. A small station, consisting apparently of a one-roomed house and some outbuildings or sheds, over which the tricolour floated, formed the point of interest. To the rear of this the bush-covered hills rose to a central ridge, whose outline against the sky resembled the back of a whale. It was known as the Isle of Fair Women, being peopled by the fairest skinned of all the tribes, and one that freely bartered away its maidens, a commodity much in demand among a certain class.

" Are you going ashore, Doctor ? "

" Certainly, if we may, Captain."

We jumped into the black boat with its brown gunnel, David and I. And glad was I of my com- panion's company and assistance in this work of prospecting.

" Who lives here, Mr Kay ? " Kay was the supercargo.

" Jean Pasquin, the shell-carver. Take a look round when you're there. He's a clever sort of chap. You may see something that will interest you."

No Man's Land 47

" They're a hard-hearted lot here, sir," said one of the white sailors as we neared the shore. The boat's crew consisted usually of natives with two whites.

" Why do you say that, Jack ? " He had hesitated, needing a little encouragement to proceed.

" I was round here last year, sir, in a labour ship, and we pulled in just t'other side of those rocks at yon point, to pick up some boys. There was a man and his girl — a young couple they seemed. She had a youngster, who began yelling at sight of the boat.

" ' Can't take that youngster ! ' the boss shouted.

" The woman said she wanted to come too.

'"No; we can't ship that squalling little beast. Leave him with his auntie.'

" There was no ' auntie ' in sight. So the kanaka, after taking a look around, caught the kiddy by the heels, swung her round like a rabbit, and dashed her head agin a tree. ' She was only a girl, anyway,' he said, and slung her body into the scrub. Then they both hopped into the boat and were shipped aboard."

"The brute! " muttered Kay under his breath.

" Ship oars ! " And the boat grated on the sand.

A widened, grey little man with a goat-beard, and dressed in loose pyjamas and slippers, was waiting for us on the beach. He was thin and wiry, and little more than a skeleton, a liber^ or ex-convict from New Caledonia.

" Good morning, monsieur ; any copra ? "

" Yes."

" Are you wanting any stores or trade ? "

"Yes. Come up to my house and we will arrange."

There was no mistaking the accent and nationality. We were introduced, and told to make ourselves at home ; but the welcome was not given with great

48 On the Field

heartiness. The house did consist of one room. It was built of concrete, smoothly plastered, and furnished with green louvred shutters. The floor was raised several feet above the ground, and a trap-door in the floor led to the cellar beneath. The work was well done, for the islands, by a Chinese carpenter, who afterwards came to our assistance on Ambrym. A high double bed, high almost as its owner, filled most of the space — for the room was only about twelve feet square — and the mosquito-nets and sheets were invit- ingly clean. But when we raised our eyes to the enlarged photographs arranged artistically around the walls our vision failed us. It was as though our " inner man " had received a sudden blow. Woman — the pure, the beautiful, the embodiment of all that is holiest — was here so depicted, that Hell itself, from its bottomless pits, could furnish nothing more profane.

" Let us go for a stroll." We were glad to escape to the outside, to inhale large draughts of the fresh air, and look upon the unsullied purity of sea and sky.

We turned to the right along the sand, and a few yards away passed an open shed, the workshop of the shell-carver. His bench was covered with bottles of acid, fine chisels, gouges, and files. A grindstone stood near by, and a small circular saw worked by a treadle. Here at odd times every day he sat behind his bench and polished the shells, being shaded from the sun by the rustling palms and an awning of faded cocoa-nut leaves, which stretched across the front of the shop. It was his hobby this — to portray in mother-of-pearl the treasures of his mind, such as they were ; and some of his work was truly beautiful. Here, too, he filled in some idle hours, gazing across the sea, above whose far horizon the distant islands

No Man's Land 49

peeped as faint blue clouds. Unmolested, he could sit absorbed in reverie and dream of "la belle France," which he still loved ; whose curse had doomed him to years of manacles and prison walls, and, now, to exile among these " cursed hogs " at the ends of the earth.

Yet Jean Pasquin was not unhappy. Was he not free ? Could he not, within certain limits, very wide limits, " play the devil " with all and sundry, including his own base self? Nay ; he was a master, an employer of labour, virtually an owner of slaves, with whom he also " played the devil."

Poor Pasquin ! France fondly hailed him as one of her " lost ones." And they in their revels smiled and responded, "Te morituri salutamus." Had she ever given them a chance to be anything better? Why do the French, "the most artistic and beauty- loving people on the face of the globe," thus expose their blots and failures to the gaze of all nations ?

We tramped along the sand for a few hundred yards, and seeing a track, followed it into the bush. The sound of voices and the bark of a dog told us that a village was near. Quickening our steps, we were soon in the midst of the huts. We saw a group of women intent on some operation, and went up to them. They were dyeing mats in crimson patterns, and we found the process interesting. Before the principal woman, who acted as designer, a mat was spread out. From a vessel containing the liquid dye, slips of dried leaf, of various lengths, soaking in the dye, were selected. These were laid on the mat in regular order, so as to form the patterns. The mat was then carefully rolled up and fastened, and placed in an old canoe containing water and hot stones

D

50 On the Field

covered with leaves. Then the whole was covered over securely with leaves and earth, so as to enclose the steam. When the mat had been duly steamed, dried, and again unrolled, the pattern was found trans- ferred in bright colour to its surface.1

A warning whistle from the steamer bade us hasten back. When we reached the boat, we found the captain there, and the labour boys fetching the last sacks of copra from the smoke-house.

" Hurry up, Kay ! "

It was the captain shouting. Kay came out 'of the wood and hurried down to the boat. As he jumped in the captain exclaimed —

" What's the matter, man ?. What makes you so white in the gills ? "

Kay, whose face was whiter than the coral beach, seemed scarcely able to speak. Waving his hand to- wards the steamer he whispered hoarsely —

" By-and-by."

Half an hour later we forgathered on the bridge in anticipation. As soon as the boats were hoisted and the steamer under way, Kay appeared. For the most part he had regained his colour, and anger was fast taking the place of fright.

" Captain," he blurted out, " that fellow " (pointing to the shore) "is a devil escaped from Hell."

" Must be," said the skipper, keeping his eyes steadily on the point of land ahead. "Judging from your face, I doubt if the devil himself could give a man a worse fright. But what happened to you ? "

" You know," said Kay, " that I went into the bush

1 I quote from memory. According to Codrington, it is also applied by means of a stencil cut out of banana leaf.

No Man's Land 51

a few steps just at the finish. There I heard a tremendous buzzing close by. I thought I'd take a look and see the cause. ' Blue-jays ' in plenty were knocking around, heaps of them ; the very leaves were black with them. I wondered what they were after. By heavens ! I shan't be so curious another time. In a bit of cleared space I found a carcass hanging to the bough of a tree. I took it for a pig at first ; the blessed 'jays' were so thick one couldn't be sure. God's truth ! it was a corpse. Some poor devil of a kanaka, hung up by the wrists, and beaten to death.

His back was thrashed to a pulp, and those

flies ," he went to the side of the ship.

"Come, Kay," said the skipper, "you've made a mistake. It must have been a pig."

" No, sir ; I'm telling the truth. I took a walk round to the other side, and that's what gave me the fright. Poor devil ! " he muttered, raising his hand to his eyes as if to shut out the horrible sight. " He must have killed that boy yesterday. I heard some of the labour boys say that Tom would help them no more. He'd filled his last bag. 'The boss, he kill1 him along bush yesterday.' "

" Can nothing be done, Captain ? "

He turned towards us. " What do you mean ? "

" To prevent such atrocities ? "

" Well, that is for you gentlemen to say. You must see that it is a very difficult matter to prove a case of this kind. He's a French subject, and months may elapse before a French man-o'-war could get here to investigate ; and where, then, are your witnesses ? Are you going to rely on the word of these ' boys ' ? No fear ; ' mum ' is the word for them ; and they

1 Pigeon English for "beat," severely or fatally.

52 On the Field

know it. Some of them would swear anything to save their own skins, and small blame to 'em."

" But you can't let a thing like this pass."

" Let a thing like this pass ! " replied the captain, pitching his voice in a higher key. " It don't pass. Look here, gentlemen ; this is a ' No man's land,' no doubt about that, but there's a rough sort of justice here all the same. It don't pay a man to play the scoundrel in these parts. Any man who plays that game is only qualifying to be his own judge and executioner. You couldn't wish him a worse punish- ment than the fate he's preparing for himself. That poor kanaka don't feel the 'jays.' They can't make his skin creep. He's gone, poor devil. But don't the old Book say (you should know) that a ' blood- thirsty man won't live out half his days ' ? Well, mark my words. Those flies will have him too," waving his hand back towards the spot we had left, "and what's more, they'll eat him alive. So don't worry about punishing him. As for the kanakas, well, better times are coming, or you gentlemen wouldn't be here."

The old captain's speech may have lacked both passion and logic. But there was a something behind its ruggedness — call it faith if you will — that calmed one's indignation and incited to greater effort. Doubt- less he was only generalising from his past experience ; nor do we for a moment think that he anticipated any such fulfilment of his words.

Yet, in this instance, as the future will show, his words came literally true.1

1 Some years have passed since transportation was stopped, and we have been assured that incidents like the above have ceased to be. However, a writer in a recent number of ' The New Hebrides Magazine ' appears to be of a different opinion.

53

CHAPTER IV. The Black Man's Fate.

IN company with David — for all the missionaries are experienced in medical work — I was summoned to attend a young French planter and his English wife. We rode on horseback for a mile or two along the beach, and then through densely crowded plantations of bananas. Buried among the foliage in one of these, we found the house, a plastered concrete structure, of which the enthusiastic owner was justly proud. His wife, though suffering, was as bright and clean as her irons and the ironing on which she was engaged. For the labour, all except one boy who was mixing mortar, were busy on the shore, getting the bananas to market. The mail-steamer had arrived for her cargo ; the trade with Sydney was brisk ; and the planters were rejoic- ing in the prospect of quick returns.

It was still afternoon when we got back, and we sat down on the deck to watch the crowds of kanakas trudging along in the soft sand. " Boys " and women of all ages were there ; some with the bunches poised on their heads, others balancing them over their shoulders by the long stalks. All were heavily laden. Some occasionally sank down and rested on the sand as if unequal to the task, and were helped up and on again by friendly hands.

54 On the Field

On deck there was a busy scene. Officers and men were hurrying to get the steamer away. Boats, heaped up with the green bananas till their gunnels were level with the water, were jostling one another around the gangways, up which the huge bunches followed one another in quick time. The kanakas were being hustled along with a sprinkling of mild oaths by a burly Portuguese bo'sun.

" Now, Doctor, I reckon that is the way kanakas ought to work. You can't make them do this on their own islands."

The passenger who spoke thus was an ex-captain of the merchant marine. He had recently been appointed British Consul to a neighbouring Group. Thus far, from his trips among the Pacific islands, he had come to know the natives only from the outside. Indeed, he had once dropped the remark that these people were scarcely above the level of orang-outangs.

It is quite true that the natives will not work thus on their own islands. There they are free men ; here they were little better than slaves. I use the word advisedly. Recruited from other islands by men who often ignore all tribal or family rights — of chief, father, or husband — whose only object is to secure a profit- able cargo, the natives, once away from their own " passage " (landing-place), were at the mercy of their masters. Brought to a place such as this, they were disembarked and drawn up in line on the road above the beach for inspection, and were disposed of to the planters at the highest figure the skipper could obtain. At the end of three years, if the engagement were honourably fulfilled, the native would receive his pay and be returned to his island.

In this inter- island recruiting, while the French

The Black Man's Fate 55

were " absolutely unrestricted," British subjects were virtually prohibited from taking part — as they were also from the sale or barter of liquor, firearms, and explosives. The British Government is apparently actuated by two motives : to protect the interests of the natives, and to keep the hands of its own subjects clean.

Meanwhile the French had been trying to obtain possession at all costs, and to make the islands the happy hunting-ground of Noumean ex-convicts. Coupled with this were the forced sales and fraudulent seizure of lands, of which the grab at Iririki, the islet which dominates the principal harbour, was the crown- ing example. The grab failed ; for the rights of British subjects were affected, and the Foreign Office was appealed to. But the natives in the outlying islands had no Foreign Office to interfere for them. An ignorant, innocent native affixed his mark to a deed, selling an acre of land on the beach. A few years later the deed is produced before a Commission (possibly by some one who has purchased the piece of paper in good faith), and is found to specify a square mile. Strife, the uprooting of gardens and fences, the burning of huts and schools, and possibly bloodshed, may follow, and the native goes to the wall. Indeed, were it not for the missionaries, who at the present moment have some thirty stations with flourishing schools and churches, who have, and have had, amongst their number men of the first standing from American, Colonial, and the Home universities and divinity halls, including such names as Williams, Turner, the Selwyns, Patteson, Inglis, Geddie, the Gordons, Paton, and others equally famous, the dismal fate of these islands and islanders

56 On the Field

would long since have been sealed. For upwards of fifty years these men, at the cost of lives, and vessels lost, and hundreds of thousands of pounds expended by the Churches they represent, have held and manned the Group, directly for their Master, and indirectly for the Empire.

What would have been the fate of these tribes if France had got her way and filled the islands with convicts, is not difficult to imagine.1 The Colonies barred her scheme. Happily a new constellation has risen in these parts — for the British, and, if Britons be still Britons, for the black races too. It seems to me that the great star in the Commonwealth flag represents Sirius, the Dog Star — brightest in the Southern sky — keeping watch on the confines of the Empire ; keeping watch, too, under the light of the Cross. May that watch be long kept, nobly and un- selfishly, true to the flag.

As the convict scheme has failed, owing to opposi- tion on the part of the Colonies, the French are trying to give weight to their claims by sending out a more worthy class of settlers ; and competition between the two nationalities is keen. But the bulk of the trade persists in following the union -jack! One result of the Missions, whose stations cover the whole Group in a network, is, that a white man whose hands

1 The French have now a new solution to offer — viz. , the definite sup- pression of convict transportation to New Caledonia in exchange for the total cession of the New Hebrides. " New Caledonia needs labour. Now, the New Hebrides possess a large reserve of native labourers, whom, the day we were completely master of the Archipelago, we should be able to use for the development of New Caledonia. That island could then do without convicts." — 'La Mois Colonial.'

Some people seem unable to rise to the conception of the black as a brother man. To them he is still a beast of burden, fitted to fill the convict's shoes, and, possibly — his chains.

The Black Man's Fate 57

have not already been imbrued may land almost any- where in perfect safety. Yet some Britishers, whose sympathies are averse to mission work, and whose eyes are entranced by the sight of a few flourishing plantations, are disposed to think that the French have as good a claim. So it appeared to be with our fellow-passenger. I turned to him.

" Captain," I said, "you have touched on a question at once medical and ethical. In fact, you have grasped a double-barrelled gun, and, if I mistake not, the trigger end is in my hands."

He looked puzzled.

"How so?"

" Well, in the first place, these natives are not con- stituted for such hard work. We, as missionaries, live with them, study them, and know them. You and others blame us for not teaching them to work in this style. I tell you they are not able for it. Look at those ' boys ' on the jetty yonder. One of them came to me with a ruptured vessel at the back of the eye. He was carrying a sack of potatoes, and suddenly went blind in that eye. Another was lifting a sack of flour and strained his back. Inflammation followed, and he was carried to hospital, and his pelvis found to be riddled with abscesses. The sacral wedge, or keystone of the pelvic arch, had given way. There was no hope for him ; and he died after a few weeks of pro- fuse suppuration.

" It is the same with the natives who go to Queensland. They can't stand the long hours, and the sudden changes of climate ; and you know the great reproach against the trade is, that it kills three or four kanakas to one white man. Their tissues are too soft. They get consumption ; come home to die ;

58 On the Field

and infect their fellows. Look at Aneityum. Five thousand people there have dwindled down to some five hundred. The same dismal fate apparently awaits them all. Of six young men who joined one of our mission-stations a few years ago, all about the same age, and apparently in good health, four are dead — their deaths seemingly due to the extra strain thrown upon their physical and mental powers by contact with white men. It is sheer nonsense to say that these kanakas can do work on plantations that white men cannot stand. Say, if you will, that the black skin is the cheaper article, despite the death-rate, and we understand each other."

" Well, then, of what other use are they ? "

" I should say, adjust their work to their strength. One would get more out of them — for it does not pay to work even a machine beyond its strength. Com- mercially, too, judging from the bloody history of the Pacific and the risks taken, they seem to make pretty valuable cargoes. There's the Rio Loge yonder with some 150 labour aboard. That, at ten pounds a-head, means £1500. It beats gold -mining or pearl -diving. They are worth handling with care."

"True; but your mission seems to have been pretty hard on its own staff."

" No ; they were allowed three hours' rest in the heat of the day, and half a day off on Wednesdays and Saturdays. One got a wetting in the boat ; another took measles ; a third was persecuted by his people ; and in each case consumption laid hold of them, and they failed to reach their prime."

"Apparently, then," said the captain with a smile, "they are best left entirely to themselves, even as regards missionaries."

The Black Man's Fate 59

" Not so, Captain. You must not blame us for introducing the bacillus. Its introduction is recent, and I have already indicated the source. It is slow, insidious, and the most deadly foe they have. True, left to themselves for ages, these races flourished and spread. In that condition, dwelling in the darkness of savagery, the Gospel pure and simple would have come to them as to other nations, as "the dawn from on high." But times have changed. Now the flood of the white invasion is upon them, with its vices, epidemics, and stress of life. The Gospel is still the best gift civilisation has for them.1 We missionaries must help them to rise with and upon the tide, and try to secure for them at least the recognition of the golden rule, ' Do ye unto them as ye would that men should do unto you.' "

" Can nothing save the black races ? "

"Yes. Help them to maintain their self-respect, and let them see that they too have a share in the future. Nothing kills like contempt. That more than all "

" Can't you get them along without the swearing, mate ? "

It was David's voice. He was calling down to the Portuguese bo'sun.

The latter looked up in blank astonishment, feigning innocence.

" Swearin' ? I was teachin' 'em to avoid bad language."

" You're teaching them bad English, anyway."

1 " Iron, tobacco, calico, a wider knowledge of the world, have not compensated native people for new diseases and the weakening of social bonds." — Codrington.

6o On the Field

A smile went round the lower deck. The bo'sun grinned. There was that in David's tone which forbade him taking offence. The swearing ceased.

" I was saying that contempt, more than all the white man's diseases and vices, is to blame for destroy- ing the black races. Annexation, followed by edu- cation and paternal control, might save even these soft islanders. The Maori was dying out, but since there have been a Native Department and Minister, Maori representatives in Parliament, and the Maori King on the Executive, the decrease has ceased. The ebbing tide has turned. The same experiment is now to be tried in Fiji. Give the black man hope, and a measure of kindly help. Under British justice, tax- ation and representation go together. Educate him and give him a share of both ; and as he regains his courage and self-respect, his virility will return."

" Is he worth it ? "

" Surely, even as cheap labour."

I took the lowest ground. For even the average Britisher is slow to see in his black brother anything more than a useful slave. In the ears of the majority it is as though the echo of the curse — "A servant of servants shall he be unto his brethren" — was still heard across the centuries.

Nevertheless, our success as an Empire in ruling the dark races is due to our recognition of the fact that, though they are servants, they are also brothers. To put them on a lower plane is to degrade our- selves, and to fail as other nations have done.

" Do you really think there is any possibility of saving these islanders?"

The Black Man's Fate 61

" I am afraid not. They are such a heterogeneous lot, and are widely infected. They are too decadent already, and destined to fade away before a hardier race, brown l or white. What we want to see is law and order established, and justice and kindness dis- pensed. And if, in a Christian colony like Queens- land, the Government find it necessary to institute hospitals for the kanakas at the planters' expense, and to appoint inspectors to see that the coloured labourers get their due amount of food, clothing, and wage, and that their terms are justly kept, and even to send an agent for the same purpose with every labour ship, how much more necessary must it be in a land like this, where there is no law, and no govern- ment, and foreigners have practically a free hand ? But law and order, founded on right, we shall not get till a just Power takes possession."

Just then the gong sounded for dinner, and we hurried below.

When we came on deck again it was dusk. The anchor had been weighed and the steamer was re- turning up the bay. Meanwhile the bo'sun, his pipe alight, sat on the combings of the hatch for a brief rest. David, who had been watching his opportunity, strolled up and sat beside him.

"You weren't offended, bo'sun, at what I said this afternoon ? "

" No, sir." He paused to remove his pipe from his mouth, and spat vigorously into the scuppers. " Certainly not ! "

1 I say brown advisedly. For, we are told, if the present decline in the birth-rate in the Colonies continues, " the dream of a great Australian nation guaranteeing the peace and progress of the Southern World must soon come to an end."

62 On the Field

" Well, I'd like to show you something that kept me straight many a time when I was a prentice lad at the bench among my mates, if I may."

" Heave ahead, sir."

" Here it is." He drew a Gospel, bound in red calf, from his breast pocket. It was a treasured com- panion, well marked inside. The leaf was turned down at one text. David read it out —

" But I say unto you, that every idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof at the day of judgment."

" It's the Master's own word, bo'sun, and I'll give it to you if you'll look at it sometimes."

" I'll find a corner for it, sir."

And he did, in the bottom of his big sea-chest. Whether he ever looked into it again to scan its many priceless gems is another question. But, when- ever a foul word rose to his lips, there rose up also the vision of a little red book. He remembered that it contained a message for him ; and that it was folded up in a yellow silk handkerchief once worn by his mother, and was hidden away among his treasures, gathered on the sea.

CHAPTER V. The Labour Trade.

" STOP talking clotted nonsense, and organise us an Institute ! "

We were at Synod. Will had not come, but had sent a letter instead. The Clerk, a dignified man, tallest of us all, with flowing beard and a deep bass voice, paused, and glanced at the Moderator.

" Oh, go on, it's only Goddard," interjected a dapper little man in white ducks, sitting in the front bench. The truth was, Will's words sometimes fell like the blows of a sledge-hammer. He could be as hard as adamant when brought face to face with wrong-doing in those who ought to know better. Consequently he had enemies. Antipathies were stirred and opposition roused where gentleness and suavity might have been crowned with success. While the sight of great wrongs wrought upon his soul till it burned like a slow furnace, it was the pin -pricks that rasped and irri- tated, producing sudden sputterings and explosions of temper. The offenders were somewhat singed there- by, and resented it accordingly. So far as I knew him, this was Will's only fault, if it can be called one.

On starting out in life there was, to me, in the whole world, one man at least who could be called a

64 On the Field

saint ; and he was advertised as such. In later years we met, and — my ideal was shattered. But I owe him a debt, for he did me a service. Thereafter I ceased to expect perfect men and took a saner view. Nor have I been disappointed. One looks within, sus- picious of defects in self; grows tolerant of faults in others ; and gathers hope for all mankind.

For we are all made of the same stuff, the best being moulded out of faults, and every one but a man in the making. And the perfection of the saints, in this life at least, resembles more the product of soap and the bag of blue than the purity of God's snow. Possibly the bleaching-ponds are on the road to the next sphere. Indeed, they must be, if the saint is to arrive there perfected. But the saints do not so arrive ; and hence the leaves of healing in the Paradise of God.

However, the Synod took no offence at Will's pungent message, and actually did set to work to establish an Institute. By " clotted nonsense " was probably meant discussions on trading and tobacco. One of the crying needs of the Mission was an in- stitution for educating and training a staff of native evangelists and teachers. Moreover, the Synod went a step farther. It cordially approved of Dip Point as a suitable site, being central, for a fully equipped hospital and medical mission, for black and white. And as soon as the Synod's business had been com- pleted, we went north again to secure the land.

It was Sunday afternoon, and I had just stepped aboard the labour ship May to see a patient who was very ill with fever. On the previous afternoon we had entered the strait between Nguna and Efate, and dropped anchor in the broad sheet of blue water in

The Labour Trade 65

front of the mission station. Here we met the May coming in the opposite direction, bowling towards us on the wings of a fresh breeze. She had threaded her way through the narrow passage between the reefs which, with the aid of an islet, almost block the strait and unite Nguna with the mainland.

Over these coral reefs the waves rose in successive hillocks of green, sparkling in the sunshine, and dash- ing themselves to pieces with a sullen roar, to hiss and glide onward in sheets of harmless foam. Boys and girls shouted and laughed with glee in the natural shower-bath, as they dived out of sight beneath the rolling seas and reappeared shaking the shining drops from their frizzly locks.

As the anchors dropped and the cables rattled, the beaches became unwontedly active. Dark figures rushed along the sand; the coloured dresses of the women appeared beneath the trees ; canoes were pushed into the water and hurriedly paddled to meet the boats. The work of landing had begun.

To-day all was hushed. Even the waves had ceased their play. Though the Christian Sunday is not the Jewish Sabbath, so hallowed had the day become to the native mind that boys and girls regarded the plucking of a flower as a breach of sabbath law. No fault of the missionary's this ; the people's minds are crude and slow to reason for themselves. He had been caught in the early morning coming out of the boat-house, his hands full of tools. "The sabbath was made for man," and he had possibly been tighten- ing a plank in one of the boats to prevent the ladies getting a wetting as they went aboard at nightfall. He was a splendid worker. Enough to say that the great church was filled three times over that day with

E

66 On the Field

devout worshippers, who themselves paid by their collections for a large band of teachers. It was the most visible evidence of successful work we had seen in the Islands.

Our little steamer, the Croydon, was returning the missionaries who had met in Synod at Aneityum to their stations, and introducing new men to the Group. The May was likewise working her way through the Islands, landing returned labour at their "passages," and picking up new recruits.

" Your cabin is well stocked, Captain."

"Yes," said Captain Spender, glancing round the walls. They were well lined with hatchets and guns of various kinds ; with here and there a handsome Santo spear, glittering with sharks' teeth, or a bunch of Santa Cruz arrows.

"Whom do you require these for?" I asked, point- ing to an assortment of revolvers.

" Oh, we keep these for the Ambrym boys."

"The Ambrym boys! You're rather hard on my future parishioners. Why for them more than others ? "

"Well, they are a surly lot, and always too ready to give us a welcome of lead."

I eyed the revolvers with more interest. I had no such weapons, — only a toy the size of my index-finger and too rusty to fire, which a well-meaning friend had thrust into my pocket. It disappeared in the hurricane.

"It's a pretty thirsty afternoon, Doctor. What'll you have? Guess you don't take spirits. We have some splendid ginger-ale. Here, boy," to the steward, " get us some glasses."

"So you're thinking of going to Ambrym," he

The Labour Trade 67

continued. "Yes; they are a surly lot. Yet in Queensland they say there are no better workers on the plantations. By the way, we have some ' goods ' on board that will suit you — a parcel of boys from school at Bundaberg. They are a bright lot, too, always ' making school ' as they call it, and singing like larks. What say you, Williamson ? " appealing to the Government agent.

" They seem to mean business," was Williamson's reply.

" You'll see them before you go ashore, if you will ; and you'll find that the Labour Trade has some good things in it anyway." This was said in a tone that manifested some soreness.

The Labour Trade was still carried on under the dark shadow of the past. " Black -birding," as it was called, had been a game with some men, as bloody as it was remunerative. If we are to believe some of the early reports, whole villages were sold and the people driven aboard ship like sheep, having to choose between death and slavery. Within our memory, canoes have been sunk at the ship's side, the natives shot in the water if they attempted to escape, and the boys' throats cut on the ladder to instil fear into the others. Crimes unspeakable were committed in the name of civilisation.

But these days were past. Exposure had led to cessation of the evils. Public opinion compelled the Governments to interfere. Every ship had now to be licensed, and had to carry a Government represent- ative or agent, whose presence prevented abuses. Further, every labour ship had to hoist a black ball at the masthead to indicate her character to the islanders. More than this, some of the planters were

68 On the Field

themselves moved to pity, and endeavoured to teach and Christianise the kanakas while in Queensland.

In these pages I shall speak of the Labour Trade as I saw it. The reader must know that the older missionaries were bitterly opposed to it, and felt at times that they had good cause to curse both the Trade and its originators. There is no doubt it is responsible in a large measure for depopulating the Group, and for retarding the work of the Mission. It is very hard for a man, after spending the best years of his life on their education and training, to stand on the shore and see the cream of his young men shipped away to Queensland for the benefit of the planters. These young converts were destined to be teachers, but suddenly infatuated with a desire to see the world, they were gone within an hour, often to return as wrecks or not at all. He must begin his task all over again with the younger lads, perhaps with a similar result ; and there was no protection, nor remedy.

" I understand, Captain, that times are changed."

" Yes," he said, " they have. But the kanakas haven't changed much, so far as I can see. There are exceptions, of course," he added ; " but you be careful when you get to that parish of yours. One of my mates had a bad time on the east coast of Ambrym some time ago. He did not like the look of the people, and kept the boat going along on the outside of the reef. The ' decoy,' a boy called Bob, would give him no peace.

" ' Look here, Mr Calton,' he said, ' why don't you let us get into smooth water. I know these fellows. There's no fight in them.'

The Labour Trade 69

" For a time Calton took no heed. He was no coward, but one never can tell what is going to happen. The people were a dangerous -looking set, and the place unfrequented. Perhaps he had a presentiment. At that moment Bob interjected —

" ' I really believe, boys, our mate is frightened he'll see the inside of these chaps' stomachs.'

" ' No, Bob,' said he ; * if anybody will see their inside, it's you.'

"'Oh, I'm not afraid o' seein' their tripe.'

" ' Very well ; we'll pull in at the next opening and give you the chance.'

" A few minutes later they were inside the reef and steering towards the nearest village. As soon as the keel grated on the sand, Calton and Bob jumped out, while the crew, all armed as usual, kept watch by the boat. The natives seemed very friendly ; and, chatting merrily, conducted their two visitors into the village. As it was a common occurrence to see the natives with arms, — indeed they often bought recruits with these, — they laid no stress on the fact that two of the crowd carried muskets, full cock. The chief led them to the met, the chief house in the village, for them to admire the decorations at the principal entrance. Bob laughed at the daubs of red paint, and saying ' Clever fellow, my word ! ' pointed at the fragment of a mirror which, amidst shells and pigs' tusks, occupied the place of honour under the gable. Impish -looking heads, the ends of the purlines, carved out of bamboo roots and coloured red, grinned at them from the eaves. All at once there was the report of a musket right behind them, and Bob leaped into the air, and dropped without a groan, a bloody writhing heap, at

70 On the Field

Cal ton's feet. His heart had been shot to pieces, and the whole front of the met dripped with blood. The musket had been heavily charged with slugs, and was fired close at his back. Calton, fearing the same fate, swift as thought threw one arm around the chief and the other round a native lad, and grasped them tightly to himself.

"'They couldn't shoot me then,' he said, 'without shooting one of themselves. For once I felt that a blackfellow's life was as good as a white man's.'

"Just then there was a shout from the bank above the sea, followed by a volley of musketry. A shower of bullets scattered the gathering crowd, two or three of whom lay wallowing in the dust. The boat's crew had heard the report, and, suspecting mischief, had run to give assistance. Calton dropped his burden and ran to his men ; nor did they breathe freely till they were outside the reef again. They got no recruits that day.

" So have a care, Doctor, and be content with ex- amining your parishioners from the outside. Come, now, and see the specimens we have aft."

We went aft to the hatchway and descended into the hold, which had been transformed into one large sleeping apartment for the men and boys. Right round the sides of the ship were one or two broad wooden shelves about six feet wide, on which they slept side by side, to the number, perhaps, of a couple of hundred. The raw recruits when shipped were each given a coloured loin-cloth and a red blanket. Those returning from the plantations were, of course, more or less fully clothed ; and their boxes were piled in a heap at the bottom of the hatchway. What

The Labour Trade 71

treasures they contained for the folks at home ! — the gatherings of three, and perhaps of ten years. Sitting here, hymn-book in hand, were two men,. the one tall and dark with skin of inky tint, the other short and of a light copper colour. The two types, Papuan and Malay, are intermingled throughout the Group. They rose as we descended the ladder.

" Where are your boys, Albert ? "

"The class is finished, Captain, and they go along deck."

I turned to the little fellow and asked him his name.

" Moses."

He was all smiles, and as bright as a navy button.

" How many in your class, Albert ? "

" Eight."

" You all belong to Ambrym ? "

"Yes."

" What are you going to do when you get there ? "

" Be missionaries to our fellow-countrymen." H'm ! I thought that was my role.

" Who taught you ? "

" Miss Young, Fairymead Plantation, Bundaberg."

This was a sister of two well-known planters. Touched with pity for the exiled lads, she had devoted week-nights and Sabbath afternoons to their instruction. The " boys " almost worshipped her. From this beginning the work has spread till all the larger centres in the land of the sugar-cane have their mission schools.

"Well, I am coming to your island to help you. You will look out for me ? "

" Yes, yes ! "

A few minutes later the boat, to the measured beat

72 On the Field

of the rowlocks, was ripping through the water towards the shore. The Labour Trade, stained with blood through its lust for mammon, has slain its thousands ; but purified by the Christ-born love of a simple maid, and in right hands —

" Out of the eater had come forth meat, and out of the strong had come forth sweetness."

73

CHAPTER VI. Will at Work.

" WILL you give the Doctor a lift along the coast ? "

It was not a question of " can you " but " will you," for the tough old captain knew that " where there's a will there's a way," and did not intend to give a loop- hole for a refusal. Moreover, among these distant isles sea-captains are kings, and have favours to withhold or dispense.

"All right, Captain," responded the individual ad- dressed, Morin by name. He was French, from one of the Balearic Isles ; spoke English imperfectly, and with a very foreign accent ; and, dressed in loose blue serge, wore a sailor's straw hat with fluttering black ribbons.

Thus I was handed over to the tender mercies of a stranger and a foreigner. He was a kindly simple soul, and rowed me ashore to his whitewashed, two-roomed, slab hut, situated about a hundred yards from the beach. As soon as we had arrived, he led me into the inner room and introduced me to his " wife," a fair native girl, and his baby boy. As we stood chat- ting, a stalwart savage in nature's dress reeled into the room, caught up the baby, rocked it in his arms, and crowed and chuckled to it ; then he gave the little yellow thing back to its mother, and reeled out again.

74 On the Field

He appeared to be half drunk. Morin took it as a matter of course.

Morin offered me a smoke, which I declined with thanks. He produced a plug of golden leaf about the size of a leg of lamb, and began to shave off enough from the thick end to fill his pouch.

" What do you think of that ? "

I examined and smelled it. " Seems first-class."

" Well, it's my own growing."

" Why don't you go in for growing it in quantity ? "

" No fear ! No more ! " he laughed musically. "That would never do. Would spoil our trade in no time. The natives wanted to get some of the plants. I had to watch night and day, and was glad when the last one was pulled up and burnedf No, no ! " and again he laughed.

In the centre of his backyard I observed a heap of glass bottles, — bottles of every size and shape, black and white, brown and green ; whisky, brandy, gin, and wine. I looked at my sober friend, and was puzzled. Enough liquor had been drunk to poison a herd of cattle. Still puzzled, I gave up the problem.

As night approached we were called to dinner. We dined by the light of a kerosene lamp, and a close company we were around that little table. There was Morin, his wife and child; myself; John, a Queensland boy I had picked up by the way, and his wife and son, — seven in all. The fare, under these circumstances, was wonderful. There were sardines, locally pickled, sausages, boiled fowl, green peas, cabbage, potatoes, soup, and coffee. I must not omit the " butler " : he was a fat boy of some sixteen summers, black as his own pots, stout as a bailie,

Will at Work 75

and waited on us, erect and grave, as if attending a regal function. To him it appeared to be all that ; and truly he magnified the importance of his office. His master, too, with the air of a king, commanded his services, and obtained full homage. But what amused me most was the simplicity of the " butler's " dress. Above, his only garment was a greasy old waistcoat, open in front from chin to waist, and displaying gastric proportions more than ample. Below, at- tached to his belt, was a small square of calico that had once been white. Half an hour later the " butler " had become scullery boy, and I had to express regret for disturbing him at his duties. I found him in the backyard, perched on the edge of a small puddle in front of his little grass kitchen. Around him on the mud were the knives, forks, spoons, &c., that lately had graced the table. It was the " wash up " ; and what could be simpler? There was only one party that took offence — the ducks, who seemed highly indignant at being dispossessed, if only for a few minutes.

Primitive it was, and marvellous the result. There was the maximum of effect for the minimum of labour, and no loss of temper withal. If only some of our troubled housewives could have been there to take notes. Possibly, though, he would have failed to convert them.

I spent the night comfortably on a stretcher in the lean-to at the back ; and in the morning, after a long and weary wait, with a stomach aching for the French breakfast which did not appear till near noon, I was overjoyed to see Will's boat heading towards the landing.

Bidding Morin a hearty good-bye, we set out on

76 On the Field

the return journey. Towards evening we landed, picnicked, and again hastened the boat forward with sail and oar. By this time it was raining. Night, too, fell rapidly, and the wind rose.

How long we were being jogged and tossed about in those cross seas I do not know. Sleepy and sea- sick, I dozed and leaned over the gunnel by fits. Once and again the clouds parted, and in the faint light that illumined the darkness we were dimly con- scious of a flapping white sail, and of dark figures on the look-out beside the mast. Will was holding the tiller.

" You seem to know your way about here in the dark, Will." Just then a big sea struck the boat and the spray washed over us ; a squall of wind and rain was passing.

" Yes ; we have been in here several times at night, but we have to keep our eyes open."

" Have you ever been in a tight corner ? "

" Yes ; but I've never had such an experience as one of our senior colleagues. One afternoon, with a full boat, he was sailing along the windward side of his island. Looking seaward, he saw a rapidly advancing wall of water topped with foam. It was a tidal wave. There was nowhere they could run for safety ; nor was there time. He struck sail — all but the jib — and kept the boat half on to the sea. They had to leave the rest to God.

"The wave struck the starboard bow, turned the boat on her side, and poured down upon her. In fact, the sea passed right over her without sinking her. They were all drenched, and the boat was half filled. But she rose like a bird, and kept on her course. That surely was good seamanship !

Will at Work 77

" But the calmest men have nerves, and our friend, cool though he always is, told me that he should never forget the sensation he had of the boat sinking, and still sinking, beneath his heel. Nightly, for weeks afterwards, he had the same feeling in his dreams — of the boat sinking from beneath him — and would wake with a start, bathed in perspiration."

"There's the point!" exclaimed one of the native teachers, indicating a black object ahead to the right.

In the darkness we discerned the outline of a steep bluff.

" That's home," said Will.

A few minutes later we had rounded the head- land, and were pulling shorewards against a strong current.

On the left, great seas were crashing over the reef; and those that missed the reef tossed our boat on their crests, and then boomed against the cliff to our right. Before us, protected by the reef, was a coral beach ; and from the windows of the mission-house, some two hundred and fifty feet above, shone a steady light.

" Ha," said Will, " Madge is there ; and your own girl is waiting beside her."

It took us the best part of an hour to reach them, for the current was strong and the boat had to be hauled up and housed, and the climb was a stiff one. But then came our reward.

Next morning we were able to witness the ordinary routine of a mission-station. At daybreak the school drum was beaten by the native teachers, and the scholars assembled, some of them coming long dis- tances. The classes ranged from the ABC scholars, seated at the foot, or far end of the school, to those

78 On the Field

who, near the desk, stood and spelled aloud the big words from the Gospel reading-books.

Each class was in charge of a senior scholar or teacher, and Will passed from one to the other, taking a turn at each.

The New Hebrides and sister Groups form a strange chapter in the study of human history. Here life is at its lowest ebb, and the people are as the washed- up foam and debris at the margin of sand and wave. This Group forms a line of demarcation between east and west. Tribes have come from various directions, — have fought for and obtained a footing. By tribes we mean districts that speak the same tongue. Or- ganised tribes there are none. In origin children of Ham, they came from Asia. Their footprints have been traced through India and down the Malay Peninsula to the Pacific. As the centuries passed, they were driven eastward — as the Celts were to the west — by stronger tribes and new invasions, onward and forward, till, about seven hundred years ago, the first canoes are believed to have reached these islands.

By contact and intermarriage on the way, and after- wards, the jet-black and the much-coveted nut-brown complexion are now found in members of the same small village. A single islet is the home of Malay and Papuan. Thus, too, it has come to pass that in the New Hebrides alone there are some thirty different dialects or languages, — so different in structure and form as to need almost as many versions of Scripture. On this island there are three main dialects, and those who speak the one are foreigners to the rest.

Every village, too, though comprising only five or six huts, is an independent unit, and, according to its size, is strong or weak, the friend or foe of its neigh-

Will at Work 79

hours, fearing and being feared. There is no such thing as a natural death : if a man die, it must be due to "poison" (a kind of witchcraft), and the suspect is shot ; war and devastation follow. True, there are many specimens of the noble savage ; but the people generally are of a low type, and are falling a prey to the violence of their own superstitions, and to dis- eases constitutional and parasitic.

After breakfast medical work began. Some of the patients had been at school. Others had arrived later. Besides the contagious and epidemic diseases intro- duced by whites, or brought back from the Colonies, viz., "specific," tinea, scabies, whooping-cough, con- sumption, and measles, there are native elephantiasis, yaws, bronchitis, pleurisy, dysentery, malaria, and a form of struma almost universal, manifesting its nature in offensive abscesses, glandular swellings, and ulcers of skin and bone. And to this loathsome work, with clean apron and basins of lotion and lint, Will, despite the danger of contagion, now fearlessly buckled him- self. It occupied nearly the whole forenoon. There- after there were visits to be paid, translating to be done, building to be attended to, and all the many- sided duties of an island station.

Towards evening we took a walk along the beach to visit a few huts and see some more of the sick. At the entrance of three of these kennel-like abodes (a thatch roof built over a hollow in the ground) we stopped and called to the inmates — when, in each case, there crawled forth an old man, black with dust and soot, shrivelled, nude, and ashamed of his sores. The oldest case was, perhaps, the most pitiable. From head to foot he was suffering from a loathsome con- tagious skin disease, while from every toe pus was

8o On the Field

oozing. This hardly seemed the worst feature. He lived within a stone's throw of the sea, and was yet so foul that the grey hair seemed rooted in earth rather than in a human scalp. Some one has coarsely remarked that medical and surgical work among these people is several degrees below that of a veterinary surgeon ; but these savages are, after all, members of the human family, though its waifs, and have the same doubts and fears, sorrows and hopes, as ourselves.

Capital cases these for the medical missionary to score by — that is, to exemplify to the native mind in the most telling way the real nature of the Gospel of Christ. Let no one infer that nothing as yet has been done for them. The Presbyterian Church throughout the world has sent into this field men and women who for half a century have sorrowed and wept with the heathen in their degradation, seeking to raise them to better things, not without much success. Perhaps the most striking, though silent, witness to this is the fact that nearly every mission-station has its own graveyard, and there are churches and congregations here that put to shame many a colonial settlement. Still, much remains to be done. Every missionary is doing more or less medical work ; but as Christianity has founded its free hospitals in every civilised com- munity, so the necessary complement of the Christian teaching and help here being given was a similar institution.

On Sunday we had a service in the native-built school-house about 10 A.M. There was a fairly large audience, over eighty in all. It is not easy to speak to natives; you have to do it in concrete terms and very figuratively, or you won't be understood. There

Will at Work 81

is scarcely an abstract term in their language. They have little or no idea of what is meant by a " city," and none, perhaps, had ever seen a " lamb," both of these words being in the text.

In the afternoon I accompanied Will to a village at some distance along the shore. The ladies could not go with us owing to the roughness of the path, or no path, which crossed heaps of huge boulders, tons in weight, brought down by the storms and transient torrents from the cliffs overhead. These walls of coral rock and earth, no matter how high, no matter how steep, are green from base to crown, the bare rock itself affording abundance of nourish- ment, even for large trees, which ultimately wedge it into fragments. We reached the village, and held service on a slope on one side of the irregular circle in the centre of which stood the wooden drums and symbols of heathenism. There were about fifty present. The old chief sat at the feet of the missionary, and his son, a handsome, strapping, intelligent young fellow, recently returned from Queensland, sat on the rock beside me and looked on my book.

The Gospel has had a powerful influence upon the people, who are now beginning to understand the missionary and look up to him as their friend. Peace is established, and there is comparative safety in travelling. The natives from the more distant villages come to barter, and to buy medicine and books. Several of these are asking for teachers, and, alas ! there are none to send. Although there were 180 such teachers already in the field,1 still the one great need of the New Hebrides was and is — more native teachers. Hence the demand for an institute in which

1 Now nearly 400. F

82 On the Field

to develop and strengthen, for this service, the physi- cal, mental, and moral fibre of the most promising of the native young men and women.

The reaping was not yet ; but it came later on. As the Communion season approached, the people in ones and twos sought the way of life. As many as 300, the bulk of them candidates, come to the week- night meetings. All day long Will was busy in the study or on the verandah teaching and directing them. The question asked over and over again was that of the Philippian jailer —

" What must we do to be saved ? "

" Nothing ! Jesus has done everything for you."

" Then have we nothing to do ? "

" No, nothing ! It's all done."

" Then we are saved ? "

" Yes ; out and out."

Needless to say it was the old story over again, yet ever new. Hearts were melted, and souls entered into joy.

"Now," said Will, "go home, and sit down and consider what it cost Him to do this for you. Then let all men see that you truly love Him by the fruit you bear."

It was in the midst of this harvest that the summons suddenly came, and Will, as the sequel relates, was translated to a wider sphere.

CHAPTER VII. The Drink Fiend.

" WILL you come ? "

" Come where ? "

" Up the hills. The old chief, Batik, is sick, very, they say ; and you may be able to help me."

In a few minutes I was ready to accompany him on his morning walk to the distant village. We climbed the high ground at the back of the station, passing the church and schoolhouse, and the lime houses of the mission servants ; and thence over the stile and through the fenced garden of the grim old chief, Lintak, and by the scattered huts of his village.

Before us was a scene of great beauty. In every direction, ridges, valleys, and mountain slopes were covered with vegetation in all shades of colour, from pale to dark green, and in endless variety of form. But the one impression that fixed itself in the memory was that of fertility, exuberance, prodigality of natural growth, telling of wondrous richness of soul.

The islands are truly beautiful, but their beauty has been just sufficiently overpraised to deprive one of the delight of surprise. There is variety and con- trast— beaches black and white, flat islets and lofty mountains, still lagoons and foaming creeks, reeking

84 On the Field

swamps and glowing rumbling craters. Nor is the vegetation everywhere quite alike. Ambrym and Aoba are vast gardens of the cocoa-palm ; Tongoa and Epi are specially the home of wild creepers, which overtop the tallest trees, and bury all except the towering palm beneath the one green mantle. All the northern islands are covered by dense tropical forest, in which the banyan is king, while the shade is beautified by a luxuriance of ferns and many-hued crotons. The soil in the south is somewhat barren, and the land, more open. Towards the north, Nature is more bountiful, and there is abundance of deep black mould.

Already a trade has sprung up in coffee of the finest quality, in copra and maize. Cotton, tobacco, and sugar-cane grow admirably. Bananas — some thirty species — arrowroot, pineapples, oranges, lemons, chillies, the custard -apple, sweet potatoes, and the bread-fruit are among the staple products of the native gardens. Some of our common vegetables and grasses, when introduced, flourish well. Cattle, goats, pigs, and possibly sheep, thrive, as do all our domestic pets. Some kinds of b6che-de-mer abound, and there are plenty of fish, though the natives are but poor fishermen. Kauri, a hard wood like teak, and a light durable wood that seems to resist the white ant, are among the timbers. These islands are of great value, destined to be a garden of tropical fruits and spices — a gem among the possessions of Australasia — if the Colonies be wise in time.

Truly the white men are taking possession of a fair heritage. Are they giving the original owners, their dark-skinned brethren, a just return?

" Come, now," said Will, " what are you thinking about ? "

The Drink Fiend 85

" Who is Batik ? " I asked. " Have you seen much of him?"

"He is a wiry little grey-headed fellow with a Roman nose. He had heard so much about the wonderful art of reading, and the strange book the young people were learning, that one morning he presented himself with the other scholars requesting to be taught. Of course he was conducted to the ABC class ; and humbly he sat down to one side, listening to the children, and quietly repeating the sounds. So intent was he, you would almost think he could see through the board. After the lessons were over the scholars dispersed, but Batik sat on. He secured the teacher for himself, and began work in earnest. All day long you could hear his voice shout- ing the letters, as if the better to make them stick. Occasionally I went up to see how he was getting on. He would then start afresh, and go steadily on till he began to flounder. By sunset he could go correctly through the board from A to Z. Then, tired, hungry, but triumphant, he disappeared up the track towards home."

" How long did he keep up the pace ? "

" Not for long. There is no royal road to learning, and the old man soon found that out. But he comes to the services, prizes his book, and though occasion- ally you see him trying to read it upside-down, he gets along. The most satisfactory thing about him is, he carries away every word that is said, and drills it into his people."

" Ho ! what does this mean ? "

A- human thighbone was hanging by the neck in the fork of a species of dracaena, a plant sacred to the higher ranks of the chiefs.

86 On the Field

" Oh, that is the way the chiefs teach obedience. A young fellow had returned from Queensland, and, proud of his experience, crowed and took delight in ridiculing the airs of his superiors. One day Batik's predecessor was passing along the track just here, and met him. The young fellow sniggered. Instantly the old chief swung round and tapped him on the skull with his club. Then roasted him and picked his bones. That bone is meant for a warning and a memorial."

We found the village high up on the east side of one of the slopes. The dogs barked as we approached, and some boys ran to us and conducted us to the chief. He was seated on the ground, leaning back against the roof of his hut.

The old fellow looked up at Will piteously, and wept.

" Oh, save my people, save my people ! " he cried.

We could see that he was very ill — in fact, almost at the last gasp. But he seemed to be in greater mental distress.

" What is the matter, Batik ? "

The chief pointed to two black grog -bottles that were lying empty beside him.

" They are paying the boys with that, and ruining them. It has killed me."

Then we learned that the French traders were buy- ing the cocoanuts and paying the wages with drink. There is no duty ; the liquor is cheap ; and the profits are therefore great. They say that some of the English are doing the same. If so, it is in a small way, and under cover; for with them the law is stringent. The chief had been induced to try a

The Drink Fiend 87

draught of the liquor, and a drinking-bout had followed. Owing to exposure in the drunken state, a chill was caught, and led on to pneumonia.

As Will was examining him, a young chief staggered up to us holding up a bottle two-thirds full. It was part of a whole case he had procured from the white men. Will remonstrated with him, calling it poison.

" Poison ? Missionary ! " he hiccoughed with a laugh. " Ha, ha ! no good you speak all same. Drink, he finish along Noumea ? Eh ? White man, he finish drink a long time [cease to drink it] ? Eh ? Grog, he finish along man-o'-war ? Eh ? Me savey ; suppose grog he good along white man, he good along black fellow. Me no make him; what name [wherefore] white man he make him ? Poison ? No fear ! Me fellow no fool ! "

And, satisfied with his own argument, he raised the bottle to his lips and reeled off to his hut.

Seeing the serious condition of the chief, Will ad- vised some of the men to make a stretcher and bring him down to the station for treatment.

"No, no," said the old chief; "I am not worthy; bury me outside the fence. And — save my people."

These were his last words : he became comatose, and died in the afternoon.

As I followed Will down the hillside I heard him muttering some strange words very bitterly. In answer to my question, he exclaimed —

" The mean blood-suckers ! I was quoting in regard to them the cry of Plutus in Hell."

It was the untranslatable cry of the Money-god — " Pape Satan, Pape Satan, Aleppe" — which greeted the ears of Dante and his ghostly guide as they left

88 On the Field

the circle of Drink and Gluttony, and reached, farther down, that of Avarice and its devotees.

" What meaning do you take out of it ? "

"Well, the meaning that suits the present occasion is, that it is a welcome to fresh guests and a cry to Satan to stir the flames anew." l

No language is too lurid to describe the baseness and greed which can wrest from these weak children of Nature their labour and their lands, and which, in haste to fill miserable, moth-eaten money-bags, can give them in return that which spells quick damnation of body and soul. And I said so.

" Don't be too hasty," said Will, who had himself begun to cool. "We must not forget that men say the cry of Plutus is ' more like their own tongue to the English than it is to any other nation.' That should humble us. Moreover, I have seen down here as yet no money-bags for the moths to eat. These men, as a rule, spend their money before they make it. They are less kind to themselves than they are to the natives, and destroy themselves in the act of ruining others. I sometimes wonder what there is in the life to keep them here."

" Do they own to giving the natives grog ? "

" They make no secret of it. ' Hell-fire Bill ' tells me they entice the boys to their shanties and nourish a taste in them for the stuff. Then they give it them as pay ; and finally the boys refuse to work unless they can get it."

" But is it not a risky experiment to make their labour drunk ? "

" Rather. But they are careful not to give it to

1 See Plumptre's translation, footnotes.

The Drink Fiend 89

their imported labour, unless in moderate quantities. They are cautious enough to see that the imported men don't absorb more than their pay, and that they don't become incapable. As for the local boys, they may drink as much as they like, provided they take it home."

" Do you use any alcohol in your practice down here ? "

" I do — as a drug ; and it is one of the best drugs we possess. When you get a man dying of dysentery, or of continued fever, with a failing heart, you must give sufficient to keep his heart going — of course, in a disguised form and only in conjunction with easily absorbed liquid nourishment. Otherwise, you must be prepared to see your patient collapse before your eyes."

" The traders excuse themselves by saying that it staves off the fever."

" The fools ! to take it unnecessarily, and as a beverage, especially the abominable stuff they get down here, only weakens the system, and in time makes them certain victims. Did you hear about young Hills?"

" The carpenter, you mean ? "

" No ; not him. Another young fellow who came down here with great hopes and some promise. He came down to plant coffee and build a station, and was getting along fairly well too ; but one day, when pulling down a house to shift it, he got a touch of the sun. As usual, fever followed ; and his only nurse was poor old Bill. At last he got so bad that Bill sent for me. Poor fellow ! you know how difficult it is to treat in that condition. He would only take

90 On the Field

stimulant, and it made the delirium worse. To at- tempt to put out fire, inside or out, by pouring on alcohol, is a fatuous move. When I got there, he was raving. I found him in his bedroom, trying to dress himself. And really one could hardly help laughing. He was trying to get a pair of trousers on the wrong end of him. Thought they were his waistcoat, and that his arms had shrivelled, because they weren't long enough to go through the legs. We got him into bed, and then he imagined he was getting chloroform-, and fought, and spat in all directions. It was not neces- sarily the drink he had taken ; the fever was at his brain. At length we got him quietened, and left him apparently sleeping.

" I was lying down under a tree, trying to read. It was very hot, not a breath of wind, and the sea shone like a mirror.

" All at once there was a loud shout, a shriek from the house girls, and a chorus of voices. There was Hills flying along in slippers towards the sea, followed by Bill and some of the boys. I joined in the chase. As he neared the stile above the beach his slippers flew high behind him ; with naked feet he leapt over the obstruction, and rushed down the bank towards the sea. He outdistanced us all.

" The boat was lying in deep water a few yards from the shore, tethered by the stern to the bank with a stout rope. Hauling her in, he jumped aboard, and pushed off again. Stepping rapidly from thwart to thwart, he gained the bow and picked up the anchor. We reached the top of the bank in time to see him holding it aloft in his right hand. With his left he was twirling the chain round his neck. Three times he did this, and then — plunged.

The Drink Fiend 91

" It was all done in a twinkle. There was a great splash. The chain rattled over the gunnel ; and all was still. A few bubbles rose and burst; and the surface of the water shimmered on, as before, like oil in the blazing sun."

92

CHAPTER VIII. The Joy of Living.

" All one's life is a music, if one touches the notes rightly and in time. But there must be no hurry."— RUSKIN.

IT was the heart of the cool season, the thermometer registered 75° in the shade, and we all felt as brisk as it was possible to be in such a climate.

We had been through the Group almost twice, and had made the acquaintance of nearly every white person, settler or missionary. Our first impressions were not wholly favourable. A warm welcome met us at every door of house or hut, but most of the white faces that greeted us seemed those of men and women who had just returned from the grave — so white and emaciated were they. It was the end of the hot season, an unusually hot one, and " influenza " along with malarial fever had been prevalent. Still, there were a few who were looking well, and some who had not known as yet what fever means. These were the exceptions. The universal experience so far has been that the roses of health which bloom in other lands are doomed to wither in these islands. The deep black soil with rank vegetation forms a steaming hot-bed of " fever and ague." But the fever is mild, seldom causing more than weakness and emaciation,

The Joy of Living 93

from which, with the proper remedies, recovery is rapid. Settlement and cultivation, letting in the air and sunshine, may ultimately dispel the miasma, but much muscle must waste, and the bones of many whiten in the soil before that condition will be attained.

But these thoughts belong not to the morning of life. Happily our experiences were yet in the distance ; and in the plan of the universe there are everywhere compensations. We were fresh from civilisation, with young blood coursing evenly through our veins; and, while resting and planning for the next step in ad- vance, gave ourselves up to quiet enjoyment and to communion with nature.

Will's mission -station is built on a spur, which, beyond the reed enclosure and a cluster of palms, drops perpendicularly to the beach. A zigzag path leads up the face of the steep; but once up you are fully rewarded. A fresh breeze, of absolute purity, is always blowing off the sea — the south-east trade- wind — and the air is deliciously cool.

The scenery, too, is equal to any in the Pacific. Right at our feet is an immense fringing reef, on which the billows unceasingly break in milk-white floods, filling the bay with what seemed to be tossing snow, beneath the moon.

The deafening roar re-echoed from the mountain slopes, and, blending with the rustle of the palms, suggests, on a pitchy night, the presence of Alpine heights and rushing torrents. To the right and left are wooded bays and headlands, also fringed with reefs ; and right in front stands Lopevi, an almost perfect cone, 5000 feet high, down whose slope the black lava — sometimes a fiery red — pours sheer into the ocean. From the centre of the crater a thin column

94 On the Field

of smoke or steam curls upwards, warning the few inhabitants of slumber that may any day give place to activity, as happened ten years ago, when the refugees on this very shore were clubbed and eaten by their professing friends.

To the right of Lopevi is the open sea, and to its left is Paama, with Ambrym in the distance. The face of nature changes with every passing hour. The colours of the sea, the gorgeous cloud-scenery at sun- rise and sunset, the weird effect of black shadow and silver glow chasing each other over the surface of the deep on a cloudy moonlight night — all were ours just then. We were dwelling amid scenes that dwarf the works of the greatest masters, surpassing them in extent and magnificence as nature can surpass art.

Yet in communing with nature grandeur is not an essential. Health there must be, and inward peace, or love — for all things small and great. A full-toned laugh — the efflorescence of health — must be as grateful to the Divine ear as a crimson rose to the Divine eye. The most exquisite enjoyment I have known was a half-hour spent in one of the gardens of our island colony. It was a morning in early summer. Leaning over the bridge, I watched the salmon basking in the sun and feeding among the green reeds at the bottom of the clear- flowing stream. The wattles were in bloom, a blaze of glory. The shadows beneath the weeping willows played hide-and-seek among the gnarled and knotted roots; the bees hummed lazily among the opening flowers; and the air was filled with perfume and with the twitter of birds on the wing.

To breathe such air seemed like feasting on the ambrosia of the gods. It was such a draught of the

The Joy of Living 95

elixir of life as sends one on with winged feet to fulfil the behests of duty.

" The lark's on the wing, The snail's on the thorn ; God's in His heaven — All's right with the world ! " —

or nearly so — except that a necessary something is left for man to do and bear.

Saturday morning came, and we were all at break- fast, enjoying our porridge and island coffee, with plenty of goat's milk. The butter was white, being made from the latter. It was churned in a bottle by a little fellow who came every day to shake it for some thirty minutes, and thereby earn a biscuit. The scones were Madge's own baking.

" Now," said Will, " the tide is to be very low this morning, and as it is an off day, we are going to take you out on the reef to see its treasures."

" Any special precautions needed ? "

" Yes ; protect your feet with a pair of old boots, on account of the sharp coral and the sea-urchins. Even the natives have to do that, and make sandals out of the cocoanut husks."

So, as a party, we went down to the shore to picnic and explore. The tide was low, and we could go a long way out. We found sea-urchins in plenty, of all sizes, the largest as big as a fair-sized orange. The little black rascals had dug for themselves cup-shaped hollows in the reef, into which they just fitted. In these they hid, and kept their uppermost spines ready for all assailants.

Armed with a hammer and steel chisel, we waded about, peeping into the pools and knocking off choice

96 On the Field

lumps of coral. The fish in the pools were small, but exquisitely beautiful — green and gold, peacock-blue, pink and white, silver and black, red and green — all colours in almost endless diversity.

"Hist! Will, what is this ?"

Will came to look. It was an octopus, less than a yard in diameter. He was brown above, blue and white beneath, and, spread out in the water, resembled a giant passion-flower. Gliding stealthily along the edge of the reef, just below the surface, he slowly projected forward a long arm, and suddenly dived it into the next hole, frightening the little fish and grasping the prey. Arm followed arm, much after the fashion of a swimmer, each, in like manner, making its sudden plunge and securing some spoil.

As for the coral, it is a very different thing from what one sees under glass cases. Our attention was first caught by what looked like a rhododendron blossoming in a shallow pool — it was a lovely growth of coral, a pale pink or purple. And then we began to find almost as many colours of coral as of fish — cream- white, emerald, lilac or lavender, dark browns and purples, pale yellows and sky blues. Within a small area we collected eighteen different varieties, classify- ing them according to form. After gathering till we were about tired, we had a delightful time on the beach. The native servants and those attached to the mission had come down to the reef for a holiday too, and had gathered several small baskets of shell- fish. The "billy" was on the boil, and soon we were enjoying a substantial lunch.

" What have you got for dessert, Madge ? "

" Mangoes and granadillos. Will they do ? "

" Rather."

The Joy of Living 97

The granadillo is an oblong fruit about the size of a small rock-melon, which it somewhat resembles on being laid open. There is this difference : the central juicy interior rivals the most delicious passion-fruit, and is the part to be eattn. The thick melon-like rind, as Madge explained, is, when peeled and cooked, quite equal to the best pastry apples, and supplies their place on the table.

"Well," said Will, "I have been in all the Australian colonies, and my eyes have glistened and teeth watered at the sight of their oranges, grapes, and pine-apples. But while citrus fruits may be the best for the Cornstalk race, for downright wholesome, savoury food, for red beef and still redder tomatoes, for brainy men and rosy-cheeked women, give me New Zealand."

A clapping of hands, and rattling of spoons and dishes, greeted this little speech.

"Perhaps you are right," said a voice; "but the statement would come better from an outsider. More- over, you have forgotten one fruit that grows superbly there."

" What is that ? "

" A guid conceit o' oursel's ! "

" Ah, well," said Will, when the laughter had sub- sided, " the Cornstalks will forgive me, for they are patriots too."

After some fun in pelting one another with the green berries which autumn was showering down on our heads, we explored along the shore. A successful hunt after crabs and shells added zest to the walk. Resting on the clean sand and white coral washed up by the hurricane tides, one felt that after all there were pleasures to compensate for living on a cannibal island.

G

98 On the Field

It took me a day and a half, while waiting for the steamer, to boil and cleanse the coral, tubful after tubful being put on the fire. The colours fade rapidly once the polyps are out of the water, and the smell as they die is repulsive. So, to whiten our specimens, we boil them for a few hours in a solution of washing soda, then pour clean water on them from a height, and lastly expose them to the sun and rain. In this way we secured several trophies, intending to send them back to the many friends whose hearts were following us from afar.

In the evening Will asked me to give him a hand with a big chest which had got a wetting on the shore in being landed. It was a black chest bound with iron clasps and lined with zinc.

" What have you here, Madge ? "

" Napery, I think."

So it proved to be, with bed-linen, towelling, and suchlike articles. Alas ! they were already stained through and through with greenish-grey mould. Will grew sympathetic, but Madge only smiled. Biting her lips, she said —

" Salts of sorrel and sunshine will soon remedy that."

" Ah ! what have we here ? "

It was something black, but when taken out and turned over it assumed all the colours of the rainbow. For a minute we gazed at it in silence.

" O Will, I'm so sorry ! It's your hood."

So it was. And it had a story all to itself. The silks and white fur were of the best, gathered by a mother's love. It had done duty at more than one graduation, different colours being required ; and in itself was a record of his academic triumphs. Under a brave show it had covered a palpitating heart. And

The Joy of Living 99

at the last event Love's fingers had sewed the purple over the pink. It was now a drabbled and salt-stained rag ; being at the bottom, it had fared the worst*.

" I am so sorry, Will ! "

It was now Will's turn to smile.

" Dinna mind it, lass ! " he said, breaking into Scots, as he often did when in merry mood. " It's no' millinery, but the man, that tells down here, —

' The rank is but the guinea stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that.'

It must be God's will it should be destroyed ; so here it goes, up the lum." And to put an end to all regrets quickly and to destroy the memory, he danced across the floor towards the kitchen-stove, hiding his loss under an appearance of gaiety.

"Wait a minute, Will," and she ran after him. "That fur will trim a coat for little Douglas."

For the next quarter of an hour I heard him at the stove, poker in hand —

" For a' that and a' that, Their tinsel show, and a' that ;"

accompanying every " a' that " with a vigorous thrust into the grate —

" For a' that and a' that,

His ribbon, star, and a' that ; The man of independent mind He looks and laughs at a' that."

I was busied helping Madge to sort the linen. She had all the pride of a Scottish lass in the contents of the chest — the quality and snowy whiteness of her

ioo On the Field

damask treasures. Still he could be heard thrusting away — •

" For a' that and a' that,

Their dignities and a' that ; The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher rank than a' that."

Then as the last of the colours disappeared in smoke up the stove-pipe he broke into full song —

" Then let us pray that come it may —

As come it will for a' that — That sense and worth, o'er all the earth,

May bear the gree, and a' that. For a' that and a' that,

It's coming yet, for a' that, That man to man, the world o'er,

Shall brothers be for a' that ! "

So in these islands we began to learn the lesson that everything beautiful in this world is made only to be cruelly broken up and destroyed. Every form of beauty is but a passing show. Life itself seems but a bundle of sensations. And as for its transient joys, to quote the worn lines —

" Pleasures are like poppies spread, You seize the flower, its bloom is shed."

Nevertheless for long their memories linger with us — bright spots by the roadside of life, to which the thoughts fondly return, and return again.

A similar fate was in store for my specimens of coral. When the steamer reappeared outside the reef, the captain, surly son of Neptune, because, forsooth, his beard had once been singed here, refused to send in more than one boat. What with bedding, baggage, goats, natives, and ourselves — for Will, his wife, and

The Joy of Living 101

four of his teachers came to help — we were all but swamped. To make matters worse, the captain steamed out into the swell, and we had to follow him. There we were in imminent danger, and the steamer herself rolled so hard that we stepped off the thwarts on to her deck. For which our skipper had another bad half-hour, this time from the ladies. He took it very humbly, his best defence.

The last I saw of my trays, they were lying at the water's edge waiting for the rising tide.

However, there are things that cannot be destroyed, the gold-dust of life — character and work. And the latter was at last coming into view.

BOOK III. THE CONFLICT

CHAPTER I. Skirmishing.

" WE, the undersigned, do hereby grant, bargain, sell, and convey the said land, together with all the fruit-trees and other trees thereon, also all the stone and other things thereon "

The speaker paused and looked around. The scene was weird. All that afternoon we had been surveying, with the aid of a compass and our own legs, the piece of land Mai was willing to sell. Night fell before the work was done, and now on the steamer's deck the transaction was being completed. A yellow flare lit up the deck and showed a circle of silent spectators, sailors, traders, and missionaries. Along the rail the chiefs had perched themselves, like big crows in the darkness. The solicitor, for such he was, had written the deed on the hatch for a table, while his friend, an LL.D. from Sydney, held the lantern. They were delegates to the Synod that year, and we were happy in having their help.

As soon as David had explained the terms of the deed in Malekulan, which the chiefs understood, they, one by one, stepped down and took the pen. Their hands being guided to the right place on the paper, each made a cross opposite his own name. Then

io6 The Conflict

five shining sovereigns were dropped one at a time into Mai's palm. True, Mai objected to the gold, but he wanted the missionary. Pigs were the coin of his little kingdom — in fact, the only large coin he knew; but the missionaries objected on principle, for pigs happened to be at the root of the heathenism and idolatry of these islanders. And, for the present, I was guided by my colleagues. The transaction finished, the natives disappeared over the side into the darkness ; and, a few minutes later, we -were satisfying our eager appetites at the dinner-table, and blithely discussing the events of the day.

A month passed, and again the steamer's whistle woke up the echoes from valley and hillside. In response, a crowd assembled on the beach, naked, but cheerful and ready to help. With many shoutings they carried or rolled the boxes and barrels, iron, timber, and tanks, over the shingle and sand. By two o'clock the boats had landed their last load, and the smart - looking craft, flying both mission and mercantile flags, the cross and the thistle, steamed away, allowing us to concentrate all our attention on the work before us. Of afternoon visitors we had not a few. By sunset the laughter and shouting had ceased ; the natives, one by one, had delivered up the armlet of pink twine — the badge of service for the day — and, having received their pay in tobacco twist, returned to their villages, near and distant. Will and his teachers had been very active, and had cleared a space just within the edge of the scrub, which came right down to the shore. The tents were pitched, an iron shelter hastily erected, goods unpacked, and the stove set up. After a hearty supper, we wor- shipped by lamplight on the heap of straw. When

Skirmishing 107

the stars came out, the camp was snug, and the first day's work at an end.

The moisture thrown out at night by our leafy bower was excessive, soaking even the bedding. So we shifted our tent again, and pitched it on top of some planks, just above high-water mark. Here we found companions, some large, juicy, amber-coloured ants, that had never seen a portmanteau before, and thought ours a capital place to colonise in. This was but one of the trifling incidents of the daily life.

Our relations with Mai and his people were a more serious matter. As we objected to the presence of the ants, so now did he to us. We shook the ants out smartly. Mai apparently would have done the same with us, but the task was more difficult.

He did his best. The fact was, he had failed as a diplomatist, and had brought a hornet's nest about his ears. The people were not satisfied. The land and the trees were theirs, and they were getting nothing. Mai had " pocketed " four of the coins and had given the remaining one to his brother, Melun- Netum, an ugly, little, diabolical old fellow whom he found a willing tool. Though here also the rule is "once a chief, always a chief," the people are democratic in spirit, and a chief cannot afford to be unpopular.

Possibly he expected to squeeze us for a second payment ; and the process soon began.

The land they had sold us was shaped like a wedge, its base being on the sea and its edge termin- ating in the bush, against a big rock called "The Devil's Stone." This rock was the termination of a spur or ridge which came down from the central

io8 The Conflict

dominating mountain at that end of the island, " Minne Peak." The ridge formed a wall between the villages up the valley and those along the shore to the right. In fact, Mai and his people in Panting, as their village was named, wished to continue the wall of protection down to the sea, and had sold us this land to make us the stop-gap. Our ground, indeed, was the original site of the village ; but so many of their people had been shot there, owing to the position being exposed to enemies in the -bush, that they had moved farther along. The rock, too, was probably so called from an enemy being seen above it in some weird dress, or painted in black and white. The people had learned from Queensland that there is a devil, and believed that he was sometimes seen.

The site contained about four and a half acres. Half of it was sand and shingle just above water level, densely covered with scrub of the bastard cotton -tree. Back of this the bank of black soil, volcanic ash, rose some 20 feet, and was crowned with stone circles, altars, bread-fruit trees, and cocoa- palms. A skull and some bleached bones, which had come to the surface on what was once the site of a hut, was at first our best landmark, so dense was the bush. The bread-fruit trees were laden with a rich store of fruit, and we viewed the crops with satis- faction. But other eyes were also viewing both it and us with gleams of anger.

" Tell your boys not to pick the bread-fruit."

" Very well, Mai," we said ; " but remember that

the trees are ours. As the fruit is not yet ripe, I am

quite agreeable; but you must tell your people to

sell us food, or we shall have to pick it straightway."

Skirmishing 109

He told the people, and we were well supplied. Cocoanuts and bread-fruit were bought at the rate of ten for a stick of tobacco. Bananas cost from one to three sticks per bunch, according to size. A number of the men, and a few women, had been to Queensland, and could speak broken English, so we had no difficulty in understanding one another.

It was necessary from the outset for them to learn that agreements are made to be kept. If we began to back down, they would soon have us backed into the sea.

Mai's next request was more in the form of a com- mand. He went among the teachers and forbade them to cut the scrub. They came to me and laid down their axes and long knives.

" What's the matter ? "

"Mai's cross; he says no good we cut down the trees."

" Oh, go along ; Mai's not master here now. You do as we tell you. He won't harm you."

This happened more than once. True, the scrub formed a slight break - wind to the trees ; but we wanted fresh air and a site to build on.

Our second Saturday afternoon had come. A crowd of natives with their chiefs began to assemble. Will and I were cutting out rafters. At length Mai arrived, followed by his dogs. One reason for keeping them was to give the alarm at night. Werwer-Melun, the chief of Melbongan, up the valley, had once walked into Panting, killed his man, and walked out again.

" What does this mean, Will ? "

" Wait a bit, and we'll see."

We went on sawing, but kept an eye on them. Mai

no The Conflict

laid his five sovereigns down on the timber. The other chiefs did likewise with the presents they had received — hatchets, calico, tobacco, everything except a few sticks that had been smoked. Not a word was spoken. A few drops of heavy rain began to fall. We took refuge in the iron shelter and called them in. We sat down ; they all sat down. There was absolute silence. We watched them over the top of a newspaper; they watched us over the top of their neighbours' heads. The rain stopped. • We rose ; they rose. Still not a word was said. We went outside ; they came outside. Surely no deputa- tion was ever more impressive. Then, apparently satisfied, they went off in a body up the track.

What did it mean ? We followed after, determined to find out.

Near "The Devil's Stone" they began to disperse.

Then we called to " Skinny Charlie," so named because his epidermis hung in scales — a tropical kind of ringworm.

" Look you here, Charlie ; you tell Mai that if he wants us to go away, he will have to pay the steamer to take us— that's all."

" He no want you to go away, master. He says, no good you cut down the trees ; and very good you pay him along [with] pigs ; money no good belong [to] him."

" Mai must keep his bargain, Charlie. He knows we can't give him pigs, and we must have a place to build on. Tell him to sell us some more ground for the house, then ; and we won't need to cut down the fruit-trees."

This was done. They sold us a piece of ground to the left of the track. We wanted the sea frontage.

Skirmishing; 1 1 1

No ; that had been sold a long time ago to some old white man. They did not even know who he was. Again and again we found them honest in this respect, here and at other villages on the coast.

But they declined to take back the money and gifts. And still Mai was dissatisfied. We were not sure that mischief was not brewing.

One sunny morning I was on the way from the camp up to the house, whistling a tune, with an armful of tools. There was no one about, and, owing to the density of the bush, both camp and builders were out of sight. As I passed between the stone circles, something whizzed past my shoulder and fell on the ground. With a start I looked up. There was Mai overhead, smiling, and plucking bread-fruit. It may have been a pure accident. I took it as a warning. A green bread-fruit is hard enough, but a cocoanut would be worse, and a second aim perhaps surer. It would be well to get the fence up and the bush cleared away at once. To do it in peace we must catch our weasel asleep, and no time like the early morning.

So one morning at daybreak we were all at work. We had cleared the boundary, got the holes dug, and many of the posts in, when out came Mai. He was too late. He talked loud, but we held the winning card ; and a man cannot continue angry long in the presence of good-humour. As a rule, too, we were very court- eous to each other. So, to mollify him, we agreed to leave a stile just where he was standing, across the " burangs," or ceremonial stones.

That same day the steamer returned (a month had sped swiftly), and Will and his party left us. But our own staff was growing ; we had the Chinese carpenter,

ii2 The Conflict

also four or five lads, and the teacher, Kalasong, from Ranon.

And now a fresh request was made. Mai wanted the use of the boat. Gladly would we have lent it to him, but dare not. Boat accidents with natives are not rare, and boats are easily damaged. If anything happened to them, they would almost certainly blame us as having purposely bewitched the craft. And to warn them beforehand would only confirm them in that opinion. On the other hand, Mai wanted the boat to collect pigs, pose as an important person and attend feasts ; and for the boat's safety, my own lads would have to go with him, and possibly myself. But we had no mind to become a part of Mai's retinue and follow him in procession about the island, to the toot, toot, of his conch -shells, which were blown before him to proclaim the approach of a great chief. We had, perforce, to refuse. He " cut up rough " over it, and pursued a policy of obstruction.

In the meantime we were getting on well with the people. He was but one chief, and his but one village. The others came and received back again their presents and their pay. We wanted thatch for the big native house, a building near "The Devil's Stone." Mai op- posed, but the other villages plaited, and brought it to us by water. When he saw them getting the spoil — calico and knives and tobacco — cupidity triumphed, and Fanting joined in. Competition was healthy. Thereafter we had no trouble in getting thatch and labour.

As he had failed to coerce us by fear, he would try a new move — the " boycott " — and thereby starve us into submission. In some way he had discovered that our supply of stores was limited, possibly through a spy.

Skirmishing 113

One such we discovered in the camp. An innocent- looking man, black as a pot, whose bald pate and oily face was in a continuous shine or smile. He went about playing a set of Pan's pipes, the only set I saw in the islands. The most common musical instrument on Ambrym was a miniature bow, about eight inches long, which was played like a Jew's harp, one end being placed in the mouth. Kop-kop, for that was his name, was for ever sitting near the stove, and must have heard many a remark, till one day we heard him explain something in English. He found a seat at a distance thereafter. We got to like him later on, and still think kindly of him. Sorrow brought us together. He was proud of his two children. His son, a spirited youth, died in Queensland; his daughter, wife to a chief, was taken in adultery. His grief was too much for him. The trouble broke his heart ; but he died re- peating the Lord's Prayer, and we drew to him yet more.

You see I was his missionary.

To return to Mai. His boycott, though well organ- ised, failed, as did all his other evil schemes. Our last yam disappeared, and we sent the boys out to forage. No one came near us ; not a cocoanut nor a bread- fruit could we get. Then the biscuit-barrel, the flour- bin, the last rice-bag became empty in turn, and finally we had used up the last handful of barley. Mai must have been feeling very happy that day. Just then the steamer's whistle was heard ; and when nearly half a ton of sweet yams were stacked on the beach, not to speak of biscuits, rice, and flour, his face grew a trifle longer. He and his followers sat down at a distance and watched proceedings. We required little imagina- tion to guess the subject of their talk.

H

ii4 The Conflict

By this time we had got our land completely fenced in. The women came in a body from different villages and worked for a day at a time, cleaning the ground. Our yam-tops had been saved. These were planted, and soon, on the bank above the sea, we had a series of extended bowers, formed by the springing vines. The successive lines looked very pretty. But they were viewed with jealous eyes. On a Saturday after- noon— Saturdays were eventful days with us some- how— Mai, with his favourite young wife, Botingi, walked past the bowers down the path to the sea. It was an unusual and a pleasant thing to see the chief and his wife walking proudly side by side. They seemed in confidential mood. She was a handsome girl, full of spirit, and her frizzly curls were crisp and black. To-day she was dressed in style, with armlets and anklets of pandanus, dyed in yellow, and tags of the same in thick short fringe, worn low round the hips, which served for skirt. Some feast or ceremony had been going forward, and all unconsciously I took note of the dress.

That night, as usual, we had retired early. The lights were not long out when the dog, a black retriever, suddenly growled and barked. In a moment I was at the window, watching from behind the blind. A pig squealed. I saw a fire-stick waving. (These were used by the natives as lanterns.) Then a figure stooped and lifted back into place the big native drum, a fallen one which helped to close the gate. The moonlight shone for an instant on a woman's dress. It was Botingi's. She had put her pig in to destroy our yams.

I went across to the men's house and found them speechifying by lamplight. There had been some new

Skirmishing 115

arrivals, and they were being duly welcomed. We organised a hunt with torches, and quickly bailed up the miserable creature in a corner. He was nearly half snout, and flat as a board, as if starved for the occasion. His snout served him in good stead, for he charged with it so vigorously at a hole in the fence that he shot clean through.

Next morning, at six o'clock, we walked into the village and beat the biggest drum. The men hopped out of their huts in amazement.

" Where's Mai ? "

The bird had flown. He had found an excuse to visit another village that early.

"Tell him we shall be back in the afternoon, and have something to say to him."

There was a third offence, besides the boycott and the attempt on the yams. A man in Panting had, under cover of night, carried off a chest from the beach. It had been left in care of Kalasong by the absentee owner, and we were responsible. This man claimed to be the owner's companion. We insisted on the chest being returned. But, so far, in vain.

If we allowed Mai to pile up offences this way, he must necessarily develop into an enemy, and a rupture, with more or less serious consequences, would follow. We had to master them, and yet keep their goodwill. Remember, we were among cannibals, and absolutely without arms. People were being eaten on the op- posite coast.

At the afternoon service in the village we hit out from the shoulder. Mai was there, but kept moving to and fro at a distance, with a scowl on his face as black as thunder. At the close we spoke so that he should hear it —

n6 The Conflict

" Yesterday," pointing to the sea, " you saw a man- o'-war go by. Let me tell you, that ship is your friend. If we do you wrong, you go to the captain and he will punish or take us away. If you do wrong, the captain when he comes here will ask us, * Are these people good to you ? ' We cannot tell him a lie ; and he will be angry with you. So let us do what is right, and be friends."

For, under the present system of Dual Control in the New Hebrides, it is customary every cool season for one or more warships, English and French, to visit the Group, and, incidentally, all the mission and trading stations, — in the interests of the respective flags, to prevent abuses, and to see that all goes well.

As we left the village the rain fell heavily, and with Kalasong we sat under a pig shelter. Kalasong was agitated.

" Doctor, no good for a missionary to speak that way. The chief is very angry, and he is a big fight- ing man."

Next morning, at breakfast-time, we saw Mai coming jauntily across the ground swinging a bill-hook. I went out and met him, and drew him to the gate, where we sat down on the old drum. I was deter- mined he should get the sermon, and, without preach- ing, gave him the gist of it. We parted pleasantly enough.

That night the box came back on the offender's shoulder ; and next morning Mai himself appeared with a smile on his face, an unspoken apology, and a present under his arm — a pig, and round its neck a wreath of the tabu-palm.

MAL AT HOME.

ii;

CHAPTER II. The Polity of the Heathen.

THE frond of the tabu-palm (cycas) was one of the insignia of Mai-ship. It never occurs to us to apply the terms government, democracy, law, to savages. We imagine them as little better than a low grade of unthinking humans, living an animal life, spend- ing their time in feasting, fighting, and idleness ; whose food grows without tillage, and drops, when ripe, into their mouths, supplying all their wants. It is we who, in this matter, are the unthinking, ignorant ones. For every village has its constitution, — of course, unwritten, — and its institutions, Every tree and every nut an owner. Every man a policy — either to advance and take up the burden of life, or to stagnate and thereby keep humble, and avoid the perils. In short, every village on Ambrym is a democracy, and that of a peculiar type.

I have already referred to the large stone circles, or " war-wars," on the bank above the camp. These are about fifteen feet in diameter. The wall, or dyke, is about four, sometimes five, feet high, and is built of loose pieces of coral. Inside, there is room for a hut of the ordinary size. Only the Mais, the chiefs of highest rank, are allowed to have these walls built

n8 The Conflict

round their huts. During their lifetime the circle is not complete ; the ends of the dyke overlap, so as to allow of an entrance and yet secure privacy. Inside the wall the chief has his flower-garden, if it can be so called, of brightly coloured and strong - smelling crotons, or the still more brilliant coleus and amar- anthus, a blaze of crimson, green, and gold.

At death the body of the chief, after the wailing is over, is placed on a frame inside the hut, and a slow fire kindled beneath. The principal wife; white- washed from head to foot, attends on the corpse. As soon as the period of mourning is past, the entrance is closed, and the hut and its owner's body left to decay.

In some villages a different custom is followed. When Werwer-Melun, the chief of Melbongan, died, his body was exposed to the sky on a high platform supported by a framework of bamboo poles. The ground below was carpeted with coloured croton leaves.

Beside the " war-wars " was a " maki," a circular structure like an altar, built of slabs of coral. It was about five feet across and two feet high, and had ap- parently been built at some great ceremony to kill pigs on. It is called a " war." Around it grew four or five slim trees resembling poplars, the " li-ra " (blood-tree), whose buds, bursting into scarlet bloom, indicated the beginning of the native New Year. It was the signal for making new gardens and planting the yams (" dem ") ; and thus a year is itself called a " dem," a yam-season.

Between the "li-ra" trees and set in the ground round the altar-like structure were a number of large, black, weird-looking heads with human features, which had been carved out of the inverted stems of fern-

The Polity of the Heathen 119

trees. Each of these was also called a "maki"1 (or nenna = image, likeness). Some small "makis" of coral, called " burangs," each of which had been built for a tusked pig to be slaughtered on, extended in a line from the side of one of the "war-wars." The stile, as we have seen, was built across the " burangs."

On looking over the stile we saw a sight more weird and interesting still. Past two or three more "war- wars," and on the opposite side of the open space, or dancing ground, a space sacred to the men, stood a lofty bamboo screen, the full height of the bamboos. Across its front, about ten feet from the ground, was a platform, and beneath the platform stood three or four gigantic " makis," images carved of fern trunks. In some islands the number is much greater ; there may be as many as twenty or thirty standing in a row. They are usually eight or nine feet high. The magnified features are smoothed over with some kind of clay or composition, so as to take on colours.

The pigments prepared by the natives themselves — black, white, brown, dark-green, and magenta — were much more tasteful than the coarser colours they obtained from the traders. One of these images at Panting was sunk and half-hidden in an open pit, apparently to conceal the lower part of the structure. It was the only one of the kind there, and its position indicated at least some degree of shame on the part of its owner. The worst thing of this kind I ever saw was at the door of a chiefs hut in a distant village; but he too was not without some virtue, if

1 "Maki" is the general term for all these rude structures, whether built of earth, or wood, or stone. A "tusked" pig is one in which the upper tusks have been removed, at an early stage of their growth. The lower ones thereupon develop unchecked, may complete the circle, and in doing so may enter and pierce through the jaw again.

120 The Conflict

shame may be counted among the virtues, for one rebuke proved sufficient : it had disappeared on our second visit

Nevertheless, first impressions are often wrong. The fact that sex is so often emphasised in these carvings is not necessarily a proof of depravity. In assuming that it is, we may be doing the people an injustice. The images, as a rule, simply represent men in their everyday attire. To go about thus is the custom, and — as we shall see — their scant attire need not be -taken as an indication of a want of modesty.

Near by the "makis" stood a group of native drums — trees hollowed out, with an open slit up the front. Above they graduated to a point ; some, having an uncanny-looking face carved above the slit, seemed to be wearing a huge old-fashioned nightcap. Some smaller drums of high pitch lay on the ground and were beaten with sticks; the drum -sticks for the larger ones were about a foot long, and were shaped out of the thick end of the midrib of a cocoanut frond.

Various crotons, lilies, and a row of tabu -palms grew within the area, and added to its sacredness. No woman dare pass that way.

"These, doubtless," said one of our visitors from civilisation, " are their altars and idols ? "

" Not at all ; at least, not in the sense you mean."

" What are they, then ? "

" Take first that which you call an altar. There is no trace of worship or sacrifice connected with it. It is simply a monumental receipt, witnessing that Mai has paid for his wives. After a chief has had possession of a wife for a sufficient time, the father and relations demand that he complete the payment. A day is fixed ; they bring presents of food for the feast and

The Polity of the Heathen 121

build the 'maki'; he crowns it with pigs, which is their coin. The ' maki ' then becomes his property, and is preserved as a witness that his obligations have been fulfilled ; a witness also to his rank and influence."

" But those big painted images are surely idols ? "

" No. Everything you see here is a sign or monu- ment of social rank. Just as a student displays his diploma and hood as proofs of having taken a degree ; or as a fully fledged lawyer dons a wig and gown ; or a knight shows his crest, — so when a chief attains a certain rank and receives a new name to indicate his rise in the social scale, the chiefs greater than he, who came to perform the ceremony, — from distant villages or from the neighbouring islands, — erect the ' maki ' for him, and receive the pay."

Thereupon we had to explain once more that among these people there were ten ranks1 or castes, begin- ning with the common folk, and terminating with the Mai, the highest.

There are also various degrees of each rank. All those of the same rank cook and eat at the same fire, and, in the earlier stages before marriage, may have one house in common, a kind of bachelors' hall. The one ambition of life was to climb the social ladder,

1 The ranks are : —

1. The common folk.

2. Berang, small chief — got by killing 5 pigs, of which one must

be tusked.

3. Vir, on payment of 7 more pigs.

4. Sakran,	15 „
5. Ngurur,	IS "
6. Gulgul,	18 ii
7. Nairn,	20 ii
8. Melun,	30 to 40
9. Lugubaru,	IOO
10. Mai,	2OO to 3OO

122 The Conflict

and ascend from rank to rank, and attain chieftainship and power.

In fact, the system may be compared to a terraced mountain, one terrace rising above another to the summit. Flights of steps, carved out of the mountain- side, lead upward from terrace to terrace. On the plain below are the common folk and the women and children. All the youths and men of any spirit or worth in the village are mounting the steps some- where on the mountain-side, each climbing and -striv- ing to pass his neighbour. No man likes to be classed with women and children, and to avoid it must strive upwards. The system is a direct incentive to thrift, and it offers a fair field and no favour. Ambition supplies the stimulus. The climb is lifelong. At the top are the thrones, or seats of power.

" But when the pigs are killed on these altar-like structures, are they not in some way offered to these images or idols ? "

" Not at all. Just as among ourselves some men worship fame, some wealth, and some power, and spend life in striving to attain their desire, so is it with these people. Say, if you will, that the pigs are sacrificed at the shrine of ambition. But these images are not idols, nor is there sacrifice or worship offered to them."

" But I saw offerings of plantains and cocoanuts placed on the ground at their feet ! "

"Just so; but they were not offerings to the images. The big image, 'nenna,' is, like the 'war,' a monu- mental receipt. It is a standing witness to the fact that the owner of it has paid for its erection, and has risen to a higher rank and is known by a new name."

" But what about those plantains and cocoanuts ? "

The Polity of the Heathen 123

" The owner of the ' nenna ' you refer to was dead. At the feasts that are made in his memory, the image is often painted up afresh, and some of the food laid beside it, not as offerings, but as a token of memory and affection ; also that the great man's ghost, should he revisit the scenes of his life, might be pleased to see that he was not being forgotten.1 His spirit does not live in the image, nor has the image any super- natural power. It is sacred only in the sense of being ' sacred to his memory,' and that only for a time. For in due time it may be sold by his son to procure the wherewithal to pay for his own advancement."

For with every step a man takes upwards he has to pay for his footing. As we have noted already, there is only one coin — pigs. And to get pigs a man exer- cises all his ingenuity. The result is that men of most parts, and of the greatest cunning, keep to the front.

Popularity, or a father's generosity, may help a young fellow upward; but the system is democratic, and the road to power is open to all.

After a great chiefs death his pigs are all eaten, a feast being held every fifth day for that purpose. In that way his sons are prevented from reaping an unfair advantage over their fellows. So strict is the system that a member of a lower order may not eat the food, or cook at the fire, of a higher order. The penalty for so doing is a heavy fine, or death. A " Melun " (pronounced meloon) and a "Lugubaru" are allowed to build wooden fences round their huts, and to cultivate the plants and flowers belonging to their order. We passed a dead fire one day on the track. My boy at once exclaimed —

1 See also Codrington's ' Melanesians ; their Anthropology, &c.,' chap. xi. But note also Lesson vii., p. 218, post.

124 The Conflict

"That was a Melun's ! "

" How do you know ? "

He pointed to a plant stuck in the ground beside the fire. The Melun could not wait for the fire to die, so he put the plant there to warn the lower orders. In a large village I noticed a ladder, of native construction, which crossed the roof of a chiefs hut and led up to a scaffold. To every rung of the ladder was bound a palm frond, probably represent- ing a pig ; and from the scaffold some royal (crimson) mats were displayed. Thus he exhibited the steps by which he had ascended to power.

When a sufficient number of young men or chiefs in a village or district are ready to pay the fees and take a step upward in rank, preparations are begun on a large scale for a feast. A day is selected — possibly after the new gardens have been fenced, cleaned, and the crops planted. Every year a fresh site is selected for these, the bush cleared away, and pig -proof fences built. They have to rely on leaf- mould for manuring the soil ; and, as the fences decay rapidly, each season a virgin part of the bush, or a part that has long lain fallow, is selected, and the whole work gone through again, — no light task.

A more suitable time for the ceremonies is after the crops have matured — principally bananas and yams, taro and cabbage (a shrub), sweet potatoes, pumpkins, and sugar-cane. The bread-fruit affords them an extra supply of food from August to Sep- tember. But the yam is the chief article, and ripens about May. They sometimes attain a length of five or six feet, and so it may take half a day's labour to dig up one potato. These are stored in the open — laid on a platform, or tied cross-wise to an upright slab, or suspended to a framework. In some villages

YAMS. 'HALF A DAY'S LABOUR TO DIG UP ONE POTATO.

The Polity of the Heathen 125

the event is celebrated with great rejoicing. One sunny forenoon a strange volume of sound was wafted down the valley from the mountain - side — a medley of voices in weird exultation, which at first woke a feeling of terror in the hearts of those who heard it. It was the harvest-home of Melbongan.

When the high day has come, the people gather in from all directions. Whole villages may arrive in a body, singing and dancing, the women bearing loads of garden produce, the men carrying pigs on poles. The fruits of the earth are laid in a great heap in the village. A committee of chiefs is appointed, who carry out their duty of reapportioning the various items with great gravity. Each carries a list — a notched stick — of the donors from the village he represents. In this way no one is forgotten, and each carries home again an exchange of food, and therefore of seed for the next season's planting.

As for the men, they carry their burdens into the sacred area and throw them down on the ground. Thereupon the owner of each pig seizes the unlucky animal and twists one of its feet, bending it back and dislocating it. A most cruel procedure, which elicits nerve-grating squeals. This is a guarantee that the pig shall be eaten and not kept. I remember watch- ing one youth cast down his pig and plant his pole in the ground beside it.

" Is he, too, paying for a new name ? " I whispered to the man next me.

" No ; he's a good fellow : he does that for merit. He wants a good place in the next world."

Amid great rejoicing the " makis " are unveiled. Each candidate mounts the platform above in turn, and is received with a shower of missiles, which he cleverly dodges. Suddenly there is a great uproar.

126 The Conflict

A huge crocodile rushes through the village, appar- ently pursuing a man, who leaps and flies from before it, scattering the spectators on every side, amid shrieks and yells and bursts of laughter. Again a band of strange creatures appear in the woods and threaten to attack the village in different quarters. At length, growing bold, they throw themselves boisterously among the villagers, and, reaching the central area, begin dancing and singing. They wear queer and terrifying masks, and wild flowing locks, and are covered to the ground in rustling hoods of brown ribbons — the dried sheaths of the banana plants. Originally they were believed by the uninitiated to be ghosts. The dancers (and the festival too) are called " rom." Their appearance is a feature in the day's amusements.

If there is a high-chief, or Mai, among the can- didates, a great chief and his followers are engaged to come from a distance, it may be from another island, to perform the ceremony and build the stone wall. The feasting and dancing go on for days. The candidate levies on all his neighbours and friends for the requisite number of pigs. There is a great display of these animals, the new name is given, and the visitors retire, their big canoes laden with spoil.

They get the names from strange sources at times. One day, passing an old "war-war," I asked the lad at my side who was buried there.

" My father, Mis-mal."

" What did you call him ? "

" Mr Mai."

" Where did he get that name ? " I asked.

" From Queensland. Some boy come back, and he say they call all big master there all same."

A SMALL "PLATFORM.

The Polity of the Heathen 127

Strange to say, the first step in climbing the ladder of Ambition is circumcision. All the lads in a village who are about the age of eight or ten years, and are ready for this step, are assembled in a large hut which, thereafter, may become their dwelling. Some of the young men take charge of the rite, and two of their number perform it. A piece of glass bottle or a bamboo knife is used to cut against a pointed stick of soft wood. A single dorsal slit is thus made in the part, sufficient to prevent phimosis and para- phimosis. The boys remain in the big hut for seven or ten days till healing is complete. The terminal part is then rolled in a wide strip of young banana leaf and attached to the belt above. This is all the dress required for manhood's years ; even a high chief requires no more. He may supplement it with a plaited crimson strap or belt with