Saturday, October 16th.—At Tasmouri. Most beautiful morning, but oh! so hot. Within doors it was absolutely unbearable, and I was glad when the people proposed to go to the seaside. The place selected was “Ron̈onawo,” and there it was bearably cool. A “Guardian” supplied me with companionship, and it proved to be so pleasant there that we spent most of the day, the boys bathing, fishing, and generally enjoying life, and I reading and seeking new names for the Baptismal Candidates. The heat again in the evening when we came home was very oppressive, and so great had it been in the house during the day that my candle I found all melted and doubled down in the candlestick.
My dinner did not mend matters, but rather made the heat the hotter. I could not get cool for the life of me, and I had to grin and bear the discomfort. I do not know a much hotter place than Tasmouri and trust I never may, the wonder is how people live there at all. The fact I suppose is that the natives live very little within doors except at night, but during the day are engaged in their gardens, or otherwise enjoying the free and easy life to which they are the heirs by nature. It was intensely hot at Evensong, and oh! how one sighed for relief! An interesting Class with the Catechumens finished a pleasant day, on the whole, in spite of the heat. While we were at Evensong, and even while praying for her, one of the Christian young women, by name “Nesta,” was given a happy issue out of all her afflictions. She has been lying in a state ‘twixt life and death for more than two months, and died this evening. She was one of the first baptized here, and a nice, clever girl she was, and a great favourite. The people asked me to bury her to-night, and I consented. About midnight the grave was finished, and I went with the people to the graveside. A weird, but picturesque scene it was, the moon in full splendour high up in the heavens, the blazing native torches casting a lurid glare upon the quiet figure of the dead, resting in her final bed and wrapped in native mats, the husband seemingly heart-broken, wailing beside the open grave, the women sobbing all around, myself with a lantern and vested in a surplice at the head of the grave, and the people all subdued and solemn around. I read the Burial Service, and when I came to “earth to earth,” “ashes to ashes,” “dust to dust,” Samuel threw on the earth according to custom, and at the end of the service we sang a funeral hymn, which sounded very solemn in the strange stillness of the night. I gave an address to the people, and words never seem to me more appropriate, and apposite than on this occasion. When I had finished my part of the service I came away, and left the grave diggers to their unenviable duty.
Sunday, October 17th.—Most glorious morning and meltingly hot. We had school before breakfast, and I took a class of adult women. I was quite surprised at their readiness in the Church Catechism, which they said by heart from beginning to end. The Collect also they had got by heart and read with great facility. With the proficiency of the school generally I was amply satisfied, and teaching has evidently not been thrown away on the majority of the scholars. After breakfast we had Prayers, and the discomfort of the heat was not lessened by the hateful buzz and presence of the blue bottles. The service was hearty and comforting, however, and I asked the Catechumens to stay afterwards.
With them I had a nice class, and was satisfied that they were in earnest. One man who has two wives, and has long held out against Baptism, has now given in and put away one of his wives. It is a peculiarly hard case, as he has children by both, and the women have both lived with him for a great number of years. Both offered to go, and gave him his free choice as to the one he chose to retain and which to banish. He chose the elder of the two, his first wife, and the other consequently left, but I could not help being sorry for them all, and at the earnest supplication of the divorced wife I admitted her and her young child to Holy Baptism. It was no inconsiderable pang to the husband to relinquish his second wife, and I could see that the sacrifice both he and she were making had cost them a great deal of suffering, but the rule is hard and fast, and I could not go beyond our invariable practice to admit a man with one wife only to the Rites of our Holy Church.
In the evening I Baptized seventeen people of all sizes, ages, and sexes, and Tasmouri now lays claim to the proud title of being the first entirely Christian village in Maewo. It has not now a single heathen member, and I thank God and take courage from the success which His Word has had here through His Grace, and to Him alone be the honour and glory.
After the Baptism, and at the end of Evensong, I gave an address, and was listened to with marked attention, and I pray God my words may not have been spoken in vain. It was indeed to me an occasion of rejoicing in the Spirit, and I do not think I shall soon forget the reality and heartiness of that service. As I sat here in my house afterwards, all the newly Baptized came to bid me good-night, and the woman and child who were going into new quarters were not among the last or the least grateful for the events of the evening, for their present loss will be their eternal gain, and to have Jesus as Friend and Husband must compensate any one, with a grain of mustard-seed faith in their hearts, for the loss of husband and earthly father. None the less I could not help feeling sorry for the pretty, gentle creature who will begin henceforth a new and different life—this, of course, humanly speaking. I was very tired when the day was over, and everyone seemed glad that resting time had come.
Monday, October 18th.—Fine, indeed glorious day, but consequently very hot. According to standing custom here, I gave a whole holiday to the school and, we went for our usual picnic. The fatted pig was killed, and we all proceeded to Ron̈onawo to prepare it for dinner. The women did the cooking, the men lending ready and very efficient aid in getting and cutting firewood, &c. A book gave me employment throughout the day, and there was a good deal to interest one going on. The scene was far from being unanimated and devoid of interest, and the day soon hastened on to its termination and natural darkness. The ovens were opened in due course, and disgorged their plentiful contents. After grace the food was distributed, and before long we were wending our way homewards.
After Evensong a request was brought me that the people might have a dance, and of course I consented. There was not a very numerous company of dancers, but they kept up their energy for an hour or two in a manner in which I should be very sorry to imitate them, and the result may be imagined in a place where the smallest movement throws you into a bath of perspiration. This evening appeared those mysterious things like seaworms. They only come about one night in the year, but the people not only know the very night of their appearance, but almost the very hour. When they are expecting them they get ready a peculiar kind of deep basket with a wide mouth, and long cane torches, and when these worms of the sea are observed, the people shovel them by handsful into their baskets, and great quantities are in this way taken. They are of course esteemed a great delicacy, and by cooking and re-cooking, they are kept for a very long time as an accompaniment to their different kinds of food. Their flavour is somewhat peculiar, but by no means disagreeable, and I can quite understand a native esteeming them a delicacy. Their wormy nature, I am afraid, gives me a false sentiment against their niceness. Considerable numbers were secured this evening, but the “haul” was said not to be a very successful one.
Tuesday, October 19th.—This morning we were early astir and getting ready for our homeward journey. We had Prayers and school and then breakfast, after which we put our traps together and prepared to start. The boat was coming for me, so that our first journey was to Tasmate, and no joke at that, hot as it was. However, we got there finally, and before the boat. It was very warm walking, and I was very liquid again by the time Tasmate was reached. While we were there waiting for the boat a big steamer passed Southwards. She had not the appearance of a man-of-war, but was too large to be down this way for no purpose. She was steaming fast and well, but looked to be rather battered and dilapidated. She appeared to have come from Fiji or from somewhere in that direction. Later on we saw her again up the coast, whither perhaps she may have gone for water. Our row homewards was terrible—the heat was simply awful and pelted down upon us piteously without a breath of wind. However, we got to our boat cove eventually, and hauled up our boat, and then, as night was drawing nigh, we prepared to start at once for Tanrig. We had scarcely got off before we were caught in a heavy thunderstorm, and the rain came down in torrents. The roads, always bad, were now fearful, and having a good deal of water before us to wade through I had taken off my shoes and socks. My feet were very sore when I got to Ruosi, where, in spite of present dripping condition, we all bathed, and we got home like drowned rats, to find that very little rain had fallen here. After tea and Evensong I was ready for bed, being very tired and foot-sore.
Wednesday, October 20th.—I was very glad of a good excuse for a thoroughly quiet day, and this was given me in a perfect downpour of rain, which continued without cessation until past midday, and I could not possibly get out. It cleared, however, in the evening, and I got out to church and to my Catechumen class, after which we had our usual secular singing. These Wednesday evenings are certainly looked forward to, but they do not satisfy me that much is taught by them. The people are very slow at picking up new things, and except occasionally are far from enthusiastic about the performance, yet I suppose they enjoy it or they would not attend in such numbers. I was perfectly inundated afterwards by people coming to wish me good-night. Shaking hands has become quite an institution here now, and you cannot meet or quit anyone except the process of hand grasping be gone through. However, it is a good step to the right direction and I give so much encouragement to it that my own arm runs the risk often of being wrung off.