FOREWORD

In 1927 there were two plump New York-Californians vacationing in Fiji: Martin Egan and Wallace Irwin. It thrilled me to meet the creator of my boyhood’s admiration, “Hashimura Togo,” and I was pleased if unprepared when he wanted me to put my adventures—then half completed—into a book. I remember our three days’ trip to Mbengga to see the fire-walkers; all the way I was enthralled with his experiences as a writer on the other side of the world; he could talk two hundred words to the minute, a record that surpasses mine. Our meeting resulted in a desultory correspondence that covered several years. When I came home with a trunkful of my own data I naturally turned to him for help; and I want to thank him for the patient editorial advice through which I have been able to assemble a quantity of rather mixed material, and to put it into some form.

I have so many to thank besides those mentioned in the text—few have been other than helpful. Probably I am the most grateful to the British in the South Pacific colonies, officials and laymen. If a Britisher had come to an American colony and assumed the critical role to which my job compelled me, he would have been tarred and feathered and ridden out of bounds. Their long tolerance reminds me of the Arizona saloon motto: “Don’t Shoot the Pianist. He’s Doing His Damndest.”

We were made to feel welcome in the various communities as we moved along. My daughter, Sara Celia, was born in Suva, Fiji; I owned a house there, and on momentous occasions had my vote solicited by Henry Marks, Alport Barker and Pat Costello. I belonged to the Fiji Club. Uncle Bill Paley and I settled mine and the world’s affairs in a few minutes every morning. What more has the future to offer?

Space did not permit me to emphasize the admiration I have for New Zealand’s high conduct in native affairs. I had the best advice and cooperation, from the Permanent Head of the Prime Minister’s Department and the Director General of Health down through the Civil Service.

If I had the privilege of making out my Personal Honor Role I should certainly put Fiji’s Colonial Sugar Refining Company close to the head of it. Without their W. P. Dixon and F. C. T. Lord I could not have progressed far in my Fijian endeavors; for in 1922 the island communications were next to nothing, and almost every hookworm district was over the cane lands they controlled, and opened up for me. We lived in their quarters, used their track-cars and railroad, had the assistance of the managers and underofficials of this whacking big Australian concern, operating in both Fiji and North Queensland.

And I want to thank my Field Inspectors, young fellows who knew how to do about anything—except complain; men like Chris Kendrick, Kenny Fooks and Bill Tully,—whose Irish mother said, “Doctor, you’ll take care of Willie, won’t you?”—and the wild American lad, Byron Beach.

And Malakai, the Fijian practitioner with an inflexible medical conscience. In jungle, swamp or canoe, nobody would wish for a stronger heart or a better brain.

I was just an item in the Rockefeller Foundation’s globe-circling humanitarianism. Dr. Victor Heiser gave me my first job in the South Pacific; Dr. Sawyer, now Director for the International Health Division, turned the tide for me when my favorite plan seemed about to fail. With Dr. Heiser I have tramped over Fiji and Samoa, agreeing or disagreeing on various questions of tropical health. Once or twice he turned to me and asked, “Lambert, why don’t you write a book?”

Well, this is the book.

S. M. L.

Walnut Creek, California

CONTENTS

PART ONE

	[Foreword]	vii
[I]	Short Notice for a Long Chore	3
[II]	By the Ram’s Horn Route	10
[III]	Where the Dead Men Talk	19
[IV]	They Walk along Dreams	27
[V]	Just This Side of the Moon	37
[VI]	A Chapter on Contrasts	59
[VII]	Where New Guinea Was New	74
[VIII]	I Say It in Pidgin	90
[IX]	“Me Cuttim Wind, Me Cuttim Gut!”	95
[X]	King Solomon’s Gold	105
[XI]	“So You’ve Come to Fiji!”	113
[XII]	A Doctor Ex Officio	125
[XIII]	How the Answer Came	131

	PART TWO
[I]	Death and the Devil	147
[II]	Gilbert and Sullivan, 1924	164
[III]	A Little Kingdom and a Great Queen	181
[IV]	The Land of the Talking Men	202
[V]	Pig Aristocracy	222
[VI]	New Zealand’s Little Sister	249
[VII]	Half a Loaf and a Slice Off	270

	PART THREE
[I]	Old Brandy and New Eggs	279
[II]	Another Island Night’s Entertainment	284
[III]	Through the Solomons to Rennell	315
[IV]	The Fate of a Race	335
[V]	Such a Little School	357
[VI]	In Retrospect	377
	[Index]	387

PART ONE