Friday, August 6th.—Morning Prayer, school and breakfast at Tanoriki, and then started with three others for Tasmouri. It was a most lovely day, and a fresh Trade wind fanned the air and kept the paths pleasantly cool. Beneath the deep, dark shade of the native forest, the strong burning heat of the morning sun was not oppressive, and the roads and bush were fortunately very dry. However, any exertion in this climate induces perspiration, and that one expects.
The native guide swung along at a rapid pace, and we were not long in reaching “Uta,” where we rested for some time in the neat little school, and Takele regaled us with green cocoanuts, which were very acceptable. Poor Takele, who has only one enlightened friend to help him, finds a difficulty in getting his scholars together on a week day, and no wonder, as I suppose he knows very little more than they do themselves, and it is irksome to old people to spell over their A.B.C. day after day, and get no oral instruction. It is far more in consonance with their feelings and habits to go out for the day, either to the seashore or to their gardens, than to be trammelled with the cares and labour of school. On Sundays he says they turn up in large numbers, and generally some one goes to them from Tanoriki. I promised him a visit for Sunday week, all being well, and I shall try to keep my promise, for he deserves all the help we can extend to him. He has never been away, is a man now of middle age, and entirely self-taught. He is a most excellent, conscientious man, and tries to do all he can for his people, according to his limited amount of knowledge.
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 “Ron̈o 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 “laqan̈a.” 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.