Part 6

He built the school himself and keeps it in most extraordinary order. In many cases he has acted as a deterrent on his countrymen, when they have proposed some heathen act which he has not thought to be within the bounds of strict rectitude, and I believe he tries to lead a good life as far as he knows. As far as morality goes, I do not think anyone would venture to bring an accusation against him. I have always intended to Baptize him, and perhaps this year I may put my intentions into effect. Leaving “Uta” we still marched on in single file, till we reached the brow of the cliff down which, of necessity, we had to descend, Tasmouri being on the other side of the island to windward. A striking and broad prospect greeted us from the hill top, and we saw besides Meralava and the wide expanse of ocean before us, the grand fertile plain belonging to the Tasmouri district, and the church and school visible in the far distance. At the foot of the steep cliff our way lay through the beautifully irrigated taro beds, and of course I had to pick my way to prevent being buried in mud. Leaving the gardens, we had a grand stretch of level country before us, and before long we came upon a merry party of Tasmouri people awaiting our arrival, some distance from their village. Being tired and hungry I pushed on ahead with some of the boys, and enjoyed a refreshing bathe and change of garments. Then came what I suppose I must dignify by the name of dinner, mostly native food, but eaten with the best sauce was as good as the best Lord Mayor’s feast, and I dare say as digestible. The Bishop’s kind present was most useful, and the canteen contained every article requisite for out of the way travellers. After the meal the people came home, and before long we had Evensong. I was quite surprised at the heartiness of the responses, the fluency of the reading, and the general brightness of the singing and service.

The women sang out lustily with a good courage, and although a trifle slow the result was pleasing on the whole. With a little teaching the singing and service will be very nice. I find I have Baptized forty-six people here, two of whom have died, two have gone away in a labour vessel, and forty-two still remain. They are a very nice, genuine, exemplary community, and Samuel has kept them well together. They seem to me beyond the Tanrigese in point of mental ability, and readily take in fresh ideas. One or two of the young men are very superior fellows. This evening I felt the warmth of this place, by comparison with Tanrig, and for the first time for the year I have slept without any kind of covering. The reed bed I found somewhat hard, but one cannot expect everything, and is content with such things as one has. The condition of the people morally, socially and spiritually, simply reconcile one to any amount of bodily inconvenience. I can thank God and take courage.

_Saturday, August 7th._--Most beautiful morning at Tasmouri. After Prayers and breakfast we all went for a picnic to a pretty place called “Ro[¨n]o nawo” meaning the sound of the surf, but why I don’t know. It is curious how the Mota word has got in here “nawo.” The word here for surf is “togovi” but nawo comes probably from Meralava. We all turned out for the holiday, men, women and children. The women did the cooking while the men and boys amused themselves in various ways, fishing, shooting, bathing or playing an animated game called “buka,” something between “prisoner’s base” and the old game of “tig.” Some of the young men amused themselves by shooting at a mark about thirty or forty yards distant. They made such good shooting at that distance, that I should be very sorry to give them a shot at me with a good well balanced poisoned arrow. At short distances of course they make very good work, and in their own skirmishes they don’t want to make long shots. I dare say by the side of a good English archer they would cut a sorry figure at a long shot, but for their own purposes they are excellent shots, and custom of course engenders skill. Their arrows are unfeathered, and I don’t expect will carry as true as the better made English arrow. Their bows are very strong and durable, being made curiously enough from a tree called the “Aru” (she oak). I spent my day pleasantly enough in reading and making pencil notes. Crabs and breadfruit was my luncheon, and a green cocoanut. The whole party assembled in the course of the afternoon, and the ovens were opened and their plentiful supply of food disgorged. I said grace and then there was a general fall to. The meal over we made preparation for a start homewards which we reached some time before sunset. On the way home the boys showed me in the water course a cocoanut tree which time had failed to rot or destroy, and the story according to native ideas was that this same tree was coexistant with the upheaval of the island, and had never changed, generation after generation handing on the fact of its existence and whereabouts.

In the evening we had Prayers in the church and a nice hearty Service. Poor “Samuel” the head teacher is sick and has not been able to be with us to-day. I gave a short address at Evensong explanatory mostly of to-morrow’s programme. It is very warm here and one’s thoughts either cease to flow or one’s hand to write, anyhow I find a difficulty in inducing energy to write or my brain to cogitate.

Except for the perpetual boom and surge of the restless ocean all is still and peaceful here at present.

On Saturdays following the general and long prevailing custom of the Mission we have a whole holiday, and consequently this morning we had only the shortened form of Mattins such as we use here. Breakfast followed consisting of yam scraped and cooked in leaves, and the particular kind presented for my discussion this morning is called “laqa[¨n]a.” The natives are great cooks and have a very long list of various dishes on their menu.

There are three principal modes of cooking food, however, such as yams and taro, (1) Roasted on the embers and the outside skin carefully scraped off as it gets hardened, this is called “tutunu,” (2) scraped on the rough edge of the tree fern, then wrapped in leaves like a large pudding and cooked in the hot stones, this is termed “loko,” (3) roasted on the fire until cooked, then beaten on a large wooden dish until as thin about as biscuit pastry, and cocoanut cream poured over, this is named “lutu.” The first two are the most common preparations, and the first perhaps most generally in use.

The different kinds of “loko and lutu” are wonderful, and it would puzzle any one but a skilled native cook, to make any distinct varieties of dishes out of such unpromising materials.

Both sexes are good cooks, and no wonder, as from the time they are able properly to run about, until the infirmities of old age creep on they are accustomed to shift for themselves. An English boy would fare very badly if he had to cook his own dinner, and provide for his own wants as early as some of these native children. But education and habit are everything, the latter of course is second nature.

_Sunday, August 8th._--At Tasmouri. Beautiful but very warm morning. After breakfast we had Sunday School, at which every member of the village population was present. I was much pleased with the way four or five classes repeated by heart their catechism, and the collect for the week, and answered general questions on the subject. It showed one that school was a serious and important business both with teacher and pupil. We went from the school into church, where we had full Morning Service but without any Sermon. Service over, I was followed by the whole male population to Tasmate. The day was very hot, and we had been obliged to choose the hottest part of it for our walk. However we tumbled over the same creepers, knocked our heads against the same branches, brushed against the same bristly bushes, that the natives of Maewo have done ever since they peopled the island. No one ever thinks of trying to improve his own or his neighbour’s ways, and from being accustomed so long to the present condition of the paths, they are quite content to experience the discomfort for ever and aye, they were good enough for their own forefathers, why should not they be good enough for them. Being head and shoulders taller than most of our natives, I suffered untold agonies mentally and physically, but I submit to the necessity, knowing that unless I commence to improve matters myself, I may expect the same discomforts to the end of the chapter. My helmet on more than one occasion has saved my head very severe concussions, and to be bonnetted is no uncommon occurence. However, on we swung, I being thankful that the road was so level as it was, and at length arrived at Tasmate more fit to be comforted than to think of administering comfort to others. They have built a nice little school here, and by the way they turned up at the subsequent service it was manifest that they knew the use of it. Augmented by the Tasmouri people the little place was crowded to its fullest capabilities, and the heat and flies were not such as one would choose for ordinary enjoyment, but personal comforts with Missionaries are a secondary consideration. We had a nice service, and I gave a somewhat long address in spite of inconveniences, and when it was over I retired to the cool refreshing shade by the sea shore, and all at once everyone began to feel the heat and followed me there. However, our conversation ran in an edifying course, and I hope some were profited by it. The return home was the next consideration, and I must say it seemed formidable for a Sunday afternoon. We reached a place called “Na Seu,” and there I could not resist a bathe in the natural bathing place, under such a deliciously cool shoot of water. We came home by a new route which was said to be much shorter, but it turned out to be quite as long I think, and not nearly so pleasant walking.

At “Uta riki,” where I formerly remember a good population, one man and a small child are the only surviving remnant. The rest are all scattered or dead. We asked him to come to Tasmouri and live there, but he would not consent on the spur of the moment. His son and relations left are mostly there. In matter of wives he has been a regular Blue Beard, and the last of a long list has just died, and left him a widower.

We arrived in due course at Tasmouri, and after dinner all together, which the women had provided in our absence, we had Evensong, a very nice service with a Sermon from me. The women proposed singing afterwards, and this went on till late. At the Evening Service I Baptized the infant daughter of Moses, naming her Anika. Moses, wife, and four children are now a Christian family. His care of, and love for, his children gave me good food for my discourse afterwards, as did the case of ‘Dimeli’ and the remnant of his people migrating from the place where many had died, to a place where all were going to keep well and live, with the result that all have died with the exception of himself. There was no hope of life apart from God.

_Monday, August 9th._--Very hot, oppressive day, and I was so ill throughout I did little or nothing. My efforts to get cool were utterly abortive. Great Christening festivities were going on all day. The fatted pig was killed and eaten with much thankfulness and rejoicing in the evening. At Evensong I screwed my courage up to a Sermon which was better listened to than delivered. Afterwards there was a dance.

_Tuesday, August 10th._--I saw this morning a beardless youth, who is the tenth husband of a woman in the district. One of her sons is a full-gown man at Tasmouri, himself married many years. There is no accounting for taste, but on which side the love or taste is I do not know. Beauty of face and figure have little weight generally with natives, they think more of utility and position. They seem to me to have no idea of the sublime and beautiful either in woman or in nature according to our ideas, and in a very matter of fact way look to the practical side of the business. Polygamy here is the exception, and there is not so large a percentage of females as is found in some of the islands. However, if they are all as easily satisfied as the youth mentioned above, young girls will be at a premium. There is one man here at Tasmouri who has two wives, and he steadily refuses to divorce one or the other with a view to Baptism, and according to our present practice in the administration of that Holy Rite, we insist on monogamy. Strangely enough the son of this very man had five wives, four of whom he divorced in order to be Baptized. All the four divorced are now married and Baptized at Tasmouri.

It was so intolerably hot in the village, I proposed that we should go to Ro[¨n]onawo, as I was going to Tasmate to sleep and that was about a half-way house. All the population followed me, and there we cooked our dinner and rested. After the meal we had a short service there on the beach which was very quiet and solemn, and then with most of the men I turned my steps towards Tasmate, Samuel and a few others, with the women going back to Tasmouri. There was a great shaking of hands, some profusion of tears among the women, and a great deal of Christian harmony between us all.

Arriving at Tasmate we found another dinner awaiting us, and a hearty welcome. We had Prayers after dinner with a sermon from myself, in which I contrasted the present visit with those they must remember to have known in heathen days. Then the hands were full, but the heart was empty, now the heart was full of love and the hands carried no bow and arrows. We had great Hymn singing afterwards, and the men sat and talked outside about the present and the past. There are a few hearts here I can see being prepared for the good seed which may God sow in His good time, quickly if it may be, and water the plant of grace with the dew of His Holy Spirit.

We were rather late before we thought of retiring, and I was not sorry at length when it was proposed, for without chair or seat, except a native tree, there was no great pleasure in sitting.

_Wednesday, August 11th._--Spent a very uncomfortable night at Tasmate. The kind people had done all they could to make me comfortable, but I found the bed very hard, the sleeping quarters very rough, the fleas in large numbers, and the mosquitos very lively. However, I have been more uncomfortable, and I was not unthankful to be brought safely to the beginning of another day. A place was named to me last evening called “Beitabu,” as being a most choice spot for a bathe, and it was said to be near at hand. Having not many toilet requisites with me, I proposed to one “Lulu” a denizen of the place to pilot me there. I was very “breakfasty” and most unrefreshed, but away we started for “Beitabu.” It was a fearful grind to get there, and the distance seemed to me interminable. Of course being well watered there were irrigated taro beds, and I slipped off a bank clean into the mud. Yet when the spot was reached it made up for all difficulties and distresses and proved to be a most marvellous natural bath, a large, clear, deep pool, with water pouring in from a charming little waterfall, and flowing out rapidly over the rocks below. I do not know when I have enjoyed a bath more, or when water had a more invigorating and refreshing effect on me. Fortunately my host had what breakfast there was ready for me when I got back, and in my state of exhaustion it did not much matter what it was. After breakfast we had Morning Prayer with a short address from me instead of school. Not long after “sail oh!” was cried and my boat appeared to bring me back here to Tanrig, and heartily glad am I to be back here again in comparative comfort. We had a pleasant but rather heavy row up the coast, our party on board numbering twenty-eight. Fortunately the sea was very smooth, and not much wind, or probably we should not have fared so well. All my Tasmouri friends came on with me and are spending the night. All were well here and the place looked much as usual. One little baby had died unbaptized during my absence, a matter of great regret to everybody, and very much so to me. I had known of the child’s illness, and it was better before I left. I had therefore postponed its Baptism until I could make it convenient to Baptize three or four more infants now waiting for the Rite.

_Thursday, August 12th._--General holiday. Arthur took occasion to “nasu ima” at the same time with me, and the great event of two house warmings drew together a large concourse of people. Fire was lit in my house, and part of a pig and two fowls were cooked in the oven. It is the custom here to have as many kinds of flesh as possible on these occasions, and as many kinds of vegetables, representing I suppose all the different sorts of food that will hereafter be cooked therein. There has been great preparation for this day, and great excitement to-day. Every household added its mite to the feast, and in the evening when the feast was spread out there was a grand display. Everyone had huge pieces of yam and taro and banana cake, and a large piece of fish, fowl and pork. The pork takes precedence, but the fish costs the greatest pains in provision, not being so easily within their reach or means of acquisition. Fish in these countries do not seem to take hook and bait readily, and the poor natives have to resort to all manner of odd expedients to secure them. There were many strangers here, and quite 150 people or more must have partaken. The pork was very nice and most beautifully cooked in the native oven. The females presided over the cutting up, but Arthur as co-host with myself gave directions as master of the feast. He gave a sigh of relief when he came into my house after it was all over, and said “there, what a poor return for so much labour.” That always strikes me as the most pitiable thing about a feast, it is all over in the twinkling of an eye, and what have you for your pains?

This evening there is a great dance, a vast crowd of people has already congregated, and it is to go on till morning light. It is done as a special compliment to myself, and I do not like to stop them. The patient endurance of some of the dancers is wonderful. From the start to the finish, say from 8 p.m. to 4 a.m., they never leave the ranks of the dance but keep at it all the time, singing, clapping the hands and dancing. There is no rest for a good supper at midnight, but the dance is carried right through to the bitter end. I am going to attempt sleep, but I fear the noise will prove too much for me. They have certainly a most beautiful night for their dance, but I should be sorry to be one of the performers. The songs are certainly very pretty, and they show wonderful power of memory to keep up the succession all through the night, without a book of words or musical score.

I can imagine too, as the enthusiasm of the dance increases, that there must be a sort of fascination about the performance.

_Friday, August 13th._--The dance was kept up till daylight, and I got little or no sleep before that. When I did get to sleep, I slept so soundly that it was late on in the morning before I awoke, and then I was driven to it. Arthur Huqe appeared at my bedside and asked me if he should ring the bell for prayers, and I was obliged to consent. The whole day afterwards was somewhat of a blank to me, and I went no whither and did little till evening. The duties of the day however, were carried on as usual.

_Saturday, August 14th._--The usual holiday. We had Prayers very early, and before breakfast I took a picture of most of the congregation in front of the church, which I hope will turn out good. It was not a pleasant day indoors, there was a strong wind blowing, and clouds of dust penetrating my house from all quarters, and I was not sorry to accept Arthur’s offer to go with himself and most of the people to the riverside. There it is always cool and pleasant, and the luxury of a bathe, although almost a daily occurence, is always appreciated. I took my photographic Camera with me, and after almost burying myself in mud, succeeded in getting a good view of the pretty taro gardens. On our way to Rarava the monotony of the road was relieved by our starting a “malau,” the ornithological name of which I know not, but it is a kind of bush turkey, it has a red head, yellow legs and black feathers, and is really like a common hen in shape and appearance. The poor thing was evidently startled from her peculiar nest, where she was about to deposit her eggs. These strange birds after securing a favourable spot, lay their eggs some depth beneath the upper soil, and leave them there uncared for until the young ones hatch themselves, and when strong enough burst their earthly tenement, and come forth to the light of day. Some say the parent comes occasionally back to her nest to see how matters are progressing, and even digs at the earth to find out how the process of hatching goes on. If she finds her progeny ready to walk, she drives them on before her to a place of security, but the general belief is that she allows them to shift for themselves. These curious birds are said to feed principally on the large ants here called “gandee.”

In Savo and some of the Solomon Islands, these birds are tamed and fenced in, to lay their eggs in the hot sand, but here they are wild and rare. Their eggs which are very numerous are esteemed a great delicacy. This poor bird in question tried very hard to get away by flight, but getting entangled in the thick bush, was shot by a cruel arrow. The capture was the food for conversation throughout the day, and I listened to the relation and re-relation of the narrative of it times without number, with all the little details with which natives are wont to embellish and amplify their narration of the smallest fact. It is perfectly wonderful how the smallest matter affords pasture for native conversation, and what a wonderful faculty they have of making multum out of parvum. In powers of conversation and flow of language, I think natives are far before our European working classes. A native never seems at a loss for something to say, and certainly never fails to express himself from lack of words.

I have frequently heard an European confess that he had a great deal to say, but he could not express himself for want of words. The fluency of speech, and powers of conversation are not confined here to the weaker sex, and I think the men have quite as long tongues as the women, although I do not think they chatter so much or make such a clatter. Some of the men are great wits, and make fun for the multitude, but I do not think this applies to the women. The Maewo folks are great “laughers,” and go off into fits of cacchination at the smallest joke. They are a most simple, good-natured race certainly, and it is hard to conceive of their being such depraved savages, so gentle are they in their ways.

After school with the teachers in the evening, during which we discussed our Sunday programme, we had Evensong, and afterwards a long singing practice. Miss Mount’s generous gift is a most welcome addition to our singing, and Arthur Huqe begins to play the harmonium very nicely at the services. Our singing is very fair on the whole, but there is room for improvement, and we have the ability if I could get the girls to use their very nice voices. In the old familiar hymns and chants they sing out lustily, but when we attempt anything new, they shut up altogether, without making a trial to join in.