The people were all back in the evening, and their lively chatter and merriment were a pleasing contrast to the ghostly stillness which had reigned throughout the day. We had Prayers late because the people were late with their dinner.
Friday, October 29th.—Not a very fine day, and threatening for rain. Directly after school the people were away to their gardens, but three or four boys were working for me here. They felt the slight shock of an earthquake, but I did not perceive it. The undivided opinion here is that earthquakes are the precursors of rain, and often indeed I have known it so to result, but it seems rather an extraordinary law to lay down. However, there are abundant signs of a no very distant downpour, and the prophets may have a chance of being right in their present conjecture. We were very busy all day, but towards evening snatched time enough to go to Ruosi for a bathe. The rain kept off well, but there was a sprinkle in the evening, and evident signs of a great deal more before very long. I have felt the heat here very oppressive for the last few days, and by the appearance of the sky we must soon have some dirty weather with thunder.
Saturday, October 30th.—The storm came on us with a vengeance this morning at daylight, and kept on for a long time. At times the flashes and thunder peals seemed simultaneous, and the crashes were peculiarly heavy. I have never known a more severe storm in the Tropics, and as for the rain it simply poured down in torrents.
I did not get up till late, and Mattins were later than usual. However, being a holiday it did not so much matter. In my house it was as dark as night, and all day it has been very sombre and dull. Rain has kept on continuously all the time, and it has been impossible to move out. The people, however, in spite of wet and dirt are up and about, and do not seem to mind the weather. Many here, indeed, prefer the rain to the sun for making journeys and doing certain works. Rain does not seem to give them cold or ague, and I suppose that custom has become second nature.
I could not get out all day except to my duties, and these wet days at home are somewhat trying, especially when you are anxious to be about. It was somewhat finer in the evening at Prayer time, and we had a good congregation, but it did pour down while we were at service, and this gave us a good excuse for a long singing practice.
Sunday, October 31st.—Another wet and intensely disagreeable day. However, there were spells of fine weather, and during those we performed our duties. School came first with a full house, the elder classes saying the Collect for the day and the Church Catechism, and answering questions on the former, the juniors reading from school books and large printed sheets. When school was over I was quite prepared for breakfast, and eschewed rice for once in a way for prawns which the boys brought me. Sometime after breakfast we had Mattins, a very nice service and especially well attended. I experienced much distress of mind from the illness of my friend “Virelumlum,” the Opa chief who came over with me. He has been very ill all day with acute inflammation of the lungs, and we have had to keep hot water applications going, off and on, all day. He moans for home, too, and there is no chance of getting him there. While at Opa, A. P. Huqe was so ill, and here now I have my other visitor a patient on my hands. In the evening I was down myself with ague and could not go to Church, and had no dinner.
Monday, November 1st.—Terribly stormy, rough night, and a most unpleasant day, the disagreeableness of which was not decreased by the continued serious illness of my visitor Virelumlum. All day yesterday and again to-day it has been a continual anxiety and care to me, and I have been dabbling about in the mud and wet dancing attendance upon him. He has quite a serious attack of inflammation of the lungs, and I have had to keep hot flannels going almost continuously, and rack my brains to find out what to give him to keep up his rapidly decreasing strength. In addition to his sickness he has developed a craving for home, and a strong impression that he is going to die here, which with natives sometimes is actually equivalent to mean that they will not recover, and when a native makes up his mind to die, he in most cases does die. There is no remote possibility of getting my friend home in such weather as we are having, and he is killing himself with worry. If the weather were fine I would willingly take him across to Opa in my boat, but that is scarcely possible in a gale of wind and a downpour of rain. On the whole it has been a most anxious and unpleasant day. Being “All Saints’” Day I gave an address in the evening instead of School, and no one, I fancy, was sorry to be indoors out of the cold and wet. I had to paddle off after every one was quietly within doors to feed my patient and make him comfortable for the night.
Tuesday, November 2nd.—A most terrible night, wherein it blew with almost hurricane violence in the squalls, with a perfect deluge of rain accompanied by heavy thunder and lightning. I was not sorry or ungrateful to be brought safely to the beginning of another day. My first business when I got up, was to trudge off to my patient, whom, thank God, I found better, but all day long since I have had to look after him, for he is no exception to the idiocy of all natives, who when they feel a bit better, rush off and do some extraordinarily foolish thing. It was a terrible day throughout, and I was so fortunate in keeping my man within doors, that this evening he was visibly on the mend, and likely to make a good and I hope a rapid recovery. I read him a most strong lecture this morning about his craving for home, and told him he could not possibly get there in this weather, and that he was better where he was even if he could. I said he never would recover if he went on distressing himself about getting home, and told him that he was killing me too, by continually crying for what he could not possibly obtain. And what a lot of spilt milk I have cried over these last few days in my regret at having brought a big man here at all. But the inutility of weeping is more apparent to me than his crying for home is to him. I can hardly say what I have done to-day either to benefit anyone else or myself. This evening I have turned away from my dinner, leaving it untasted, and I feel that I must go to bed.
Wednesday, November 3rd.—An attack of ague last night has made me feel weak and good for nothing this morning. However, I had to get up, and the prospect outside was as dismal as ever. Rain and wind and gloominess. My patient, thank God, is most decidedly better, and if he takes care of himself will do very well now. I have had a fire in my house all day, and with Dr. Codrington’s book on the Melanesian languages, have got on very pleasantly. I should like, however, to see a little sunshine, and one has a right to expect it now in the height of summer. I am dreadfully afraid Mrs. Selwyn’s visit to me will be impossible, when the ship arrives the roads will be so impassable. Towards evening it cleared a bit and I was able to move out, but generally speaking, everyone has been kept close prisoner to-day. The people who always seem to me to love paddling about in the wet, expressed a strong disinclination to move from their houses, and in the absence of other occupation or amusement, have been asleep most of the day I fancy. A native’s capacity for sleep is unbounded, and perhaps a fortunate thing for him, but he can wake at any time, day or night, and get up straight away. We had our usual Evensong and singing class, the weather keeping fairer until we had all got indoors again in our several houses, when down came the rain. There is a sweet, lulling, comfortable sound in rain when you are safe indoors, or perchance in bed, and sleep seems to come unwooed. I practice here what I seldom do anywhere else, read in bed, and far on in the stillness of the solemn night, I read on and on with keen enjoyment and a sense of rest, for one gets tired of sitting in a land devoid of easy chairs and sofas. The usual posture of a native is to squat on his heels or else to recline, naturally our high seats are foreign and uncanny to them. I cannot myself squat for any length of time, and at times I sigh for the comfort of a good easy chair.
Thursday, November 4th.—Very wet, dispiriting morning, and threatening for another stormy day. It cleared off, however, and barring showers we have had a fine day.