Evening duties as usual, and some hymn singing afterwards.
Saturday, September 4th.—After Prayers and breakfast, the boys and I started for a long meditated journey up the coast. It was a most glorious day, but very hot, the sun scorching down with pitiless heat. We embarked at Kerepei, sixteen of us all told, and rowed away against the Trade wind which was blowing strong down the coast. We were a merry party, and the shore view was very beautiful as we coasted along. From the point of embarkation to Tanrowo, a distance of eight or ten miles, there is not a single “salt water” native, and it seems a great pity to see so much valuable land lying fallow, when it might be utilised for almost any purpose. As we rounded the Point between us and Tanrowo, called “Vaturowa,” we saw a vessel at anchor in the distance. The heat on the water was intense, and I felt myself being scorched about the face and hands. The natives, hatless and clotheless, did not seem to mind it, and their exuberant spirits were proof against almost any outer evil. We saw some people along the coast, and conversed with them at several places. Arriving at “Beitarara,” we saw a number of people we knew. We of course asked about the “schooner” at anchor, and they said they did not know what she was, as she had only just a short time before come to her anchorage. However, the boat painted red was coming towards us, and soon we were within speaking distance. I asked where she was from, and what was her errand. As they came close to us, I heard my name called, and found myself shaking hands with Captain Martin of the schooner “Idaho” from Noumea. I met him years ago when he was in charge of the “John S. Lane,” Captain McCleod owner, and he very kindly then towed me across from Opa to Pentecost Island. He seemed very glad to see me, and invited me on board. He now belongs to the “Nouvelles Hebrides” Company, and was recruiting labour for “Port Sandwich” in Mallicollo. The Company had bought land here at “Beitarara,” and he just dropped in to see the people. He was very kind and amiable, and I spent some time on board, and made some purchases.
The boat then started for our destination, where we found many amiable, friendly people awaiting us, and although they had sold their land, they had very hazy notions as to how much had been purchased, or what was to be done with it. After spending some time with them, we gave them some presents, and then found it was time to be getting homeward. A strong favourable breeze took us rapidly to the Kerepei. Arriving at “Ruosi,” we found a large number of our people awaiting us, with a smoking hot supper they had cooked for us there. We arrived here tired and sunburnt just before dark. Evensong followed, and a singing practice for Sunday.
Sunday, September 5th.—School very early on account of the blue bottles. I took all the old men into the Church and talked to them there. They paid good attention, and I hope remembered something of what they were taught. I tried to explain how God declared His Almighty Power most chiefly in showing mercy and pity. There were times when He revealed Himself as a consuming fire, but that was in His attitude towards sin, but the whole being and essence of God was love. After breakfast I started with Patrick for “Mandurvat” by way of “Naruru.” Anthony had already had Morning Prayer, so I did not stay long there, but pushed on for my destination. It was very hot walking, and I was very liquid when I arrived at Mandurvat. Sunday travelling here is much more tiring than week-day work, for you are obliged to respect the day a little, as regards the clothing you wear. I had not a very large congregation, and when service was over I asked the reason. The people then told me that a certain man called “Ala” had “tabu’d” (i.e. made sacred) the school, and prevented the people of his village from attending service. I protested against this, and when I had said my say, the plucky young teacher “Tarione” at once went to the village, and broke the “tabu,” rendering himself liable to a fine of pigs or perhaps a knock on the head. “Ala” was not at home or I would have gone to see him. However, I believe Tarione did all I could do, and perhaps more. I was very much pleased with the way some of the scholars had been taught, and two females especially, took me quite by surprise. These people have no baptized teacher, and the efficiency of the school is entirely owing to the exertion and perseverance of two young men, Tarione aforementioned and “Livotari.” The latter requested Baptism for himself, wife and child, and Tarione has previously expressed the same wish. Now that the tabu is taken off, or at least broken, no doubt the scholars will increase, but it reflects great credit on these young fellows that they have built the school themselves, taught themselves to read, and do their best to teach their people. They are a most friendly, good-natured people, and act up to their limited light and knowledge. They have prayers and school every day, and this is very wonderful, when one considers the few advantages they have had. “Masa,” the leading man of the district, was present at the service, and was very enthusiastic in the after conversation. They gave us a sumptuous luncheon of various kinds of “loko,” and we started for Tanrig when the sun’s rays began somewhat to decline. At “Naruru” we stopped some time, and I addressed the people. Anthony afterwards came on with me to Tanrig. Here, in the evening, I preached on the subject of the Gospel, the Pharisee and the Publican, and tried to adduce some healthful lessons from the parable. We were somewhat inclined by nature to think more highly of ourselves than we ought to think, and not to be sober and humble in our self consideration. Because we attended service regularly, and were very accurate in our daily lives, we were apt to despise others around us, who were not so exact, and were still living heathen lives. When we came before God, our thought ought not to be of our own worthiness or goodness in His sight, still less of the depravity and wickedness of others, but our attitude and our language should be that of our own utter unworthiness and sinfulness, we should imitate the action and adopt the words of the Publican rather than that of the Pharisee, and smite our breasts and say, “God be merciful to me a sinner.” What we sought from all our services was to go down to our houses justified, and the only road to justification and righteousness was humility. That was the only road for white and black people alike, for teacher and taught, for Priest and people. How many of us would be justified that night? How many of us were growing day by day in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ?
Monday, September 6th.—Captain Martin had kindly offered to tow me and my boat’s crew across to Opa if I could manage to be ready. He would come down and anchor at Kerepei, and fire a gun as a signal for me. The gun went, but I was not ready, and after breakfast I went down to tell him so. Being a French ship they kept French hours, and I found a second breakfast awaiting me on board. Twelve people had recruited at Tanrowo, and all had been bought with snider rifles, and plenty of ammunition. French and English recruiting laws are very different. Vessels from Queensland and Fiji are not allowed to give guns or ammunition to the natives, but the French do just as they like. While I was on board, another silly female was recruited. In one of her humours she had run away from her husband, and had come a distance of twelve or fifteen miles, to be engaged for three years as the slave and tool of some depraved Frenchman on one of the island stations. I could say nothing, although I knew the result of the embarkation. However, the Captain promised me that he would call again at the place, and see the woman’s friends, and if they consented to her going, he would keep her and pay for her, but if not, she should be put on shore again. How far or how truly he will carry out his promise I do not know, but he is a tender hearted and, I think, an upright man in his dealings with the natives. As soon as I was ashore, he lifted his anchor and went up the coast, but I have not yet heard what he did. He was very kind to our boys, and gave them several tins of meat and biscuits. We made a fire at Ruosi, and there they cooked their dinner, while after a bathe I came home. In the evening it rained very hard, and just before the bell went for Prayers, our congregation was therefore not so large as usual, and our numbers thinner at school. I was very tired, and went early to bed.
Wednesday, September 7th.—Very heavy rain during the night succeeded this morning by a northerly wind, and a hot, close, oppressive day. I have not felt it so warm since I have been here, and I was glad that my duties kept me at home, and mostly in doors all the day. Nothing here seems possible to be done without a feast and a dance, and all work was postponed to-day to do my new fence the honour of having a supper prepared for it. Any excuse for eating and dancing. The women were kept busy at the ovens cooking, and the men away at the seaside endeavouring to get a meal of fish, seemingly the choicest compliment possible to be paid to the exterior decoration of my house. The fence making certainly was a most laborious business, and the result, if not strikingly beautiful, has the advantage of being strong and durable, and hitherto pig-proof.
The men returned in the afternoon with about thirty nice fish, which were at once consigned to the oven, and in the evening the feast was spread here in front of my house, and the whole village assembled to partake. Grace was said, and the huge quantities of food distributed, and eaten with very evident relish. Postprandial grace having been said, the company dispersed, and soon all the festal remnants, too, disappeared. The evening was one of the most glorious I have ever seen, and I sat outside my house for a long time talking with the people. Many were prevented attending by reason of sickness, and our numbers at Prayers and school were not so full as usual. After school a dance was proposed, but did not come off. Instead thereof, a few of the men came and serenaded me, very quietly and softly, and much more in consonance with my feelings than the noisy songs and clappings of the dance. It was one of those nights in which it was a “shame to go to bed,” but tired nature seeks repose, and soon the village was sunk in silent slumber.
Wednesday, September 8th.—Another most glorious morning followed by a very hot and ennervating day. After our morning duties here, public and private, I went with some of the boys to Ruosi. It was very pleasant there by the water side, and one got a perfect freedom from the blue bottles, which invaded my house in such numbers, this morning, that I had to retire. The discomfort of these loathsome creatures is excessive, and one gets away from them as far as possible. Not having had a washing day for some days, I made one to-day, and myself turned washerwoman. The one idea of natives with respect to clothes washing, is to pile on the soap agony, and leave your garments as stiff as a board, and almost as uncomfortable to wear. I entrusted a pair of white flannel trowsers, and a white flannel coat to one of the boys to wash, but I tremble to think what the result will be. On our way homeward we were stopped by loud “cooes” from the rear rank, and Patrick came running forward to say “They are here.” Soon a white hat appeared, and I fancied at once it must be the “Southern Cross,” but wondered why she had come so quickly.
However, I was soon undeceived, and was greeted by Mr. Coates, Government Agent of the “Lord of the Isles” from Fiji. He was photographing the Falls, and the boys brought him on here. He was very amiable, and followed me on to the village. He took three views of different parts of the place, and after staying a short time returned again to the ship as night was rapidly approaching. It is so seldom that a white man ventures up here, that the sight of one is a seven days’ wonder. He came quite unarmed, and was evidently not frightened by the ferocity of our people. It is customary to look upon natives as naturally wild and ferocious, and few white men trust themselves among them without arms. However, of course we always go armed with a Power more protective than a Colt’s revolver, and we, I suppose, engender trust in the natives by trusting them.
The “Lord of the Isles” is a large ship of 300 tons, and has brought over two hundred natives from Fiji as returned labour.