Here we almost filled the ship with fruit, especially a kind ardently longed for by the Norfolk Islanders, which they call the Vee apple, but which the Opa people term “Uhi.” Some very sweet oranges too were offered for sale, and the ship looked like a fruit market.
We hoisted our anchor before noon and stood across to Maewo where we anchored in the evening. No one being down on the beach, I started off Arthur Huqe and Duwu to Tanrig to tell the people to come down in the morning.
The village is three or four miles from the watering place and except the ship is there, the Tanrigese seldom come down to this beach, the sea being nearer on the other side of the island. Mr. Turnbull and I with some of the boys went in and had a most delicious bath, after so many days privation all the nicer. The river we found very full and the rush very great, but the water was most beautifully cool and refreshing. This now is the chief and best watering place in the islands, and the water itself is most excellent. Late in the evening a boy arrived who had rowed a long distance in his canoe, and he gave us the news, which was good on the whole. He told me again the tragic story enacted at N̈adui, a village not far from the watering place. One Vulatewa was a reputed disease-maker, and he resided there. Lately there had been a great mortality at Maewo, and especially among the still heathen people of Tanrowo, a coastal district bordering on N̈adui. The great man, Melkalano’s son died and his brother and many others, and Vulatewa insisted that he had made the sickness, and would kill many more except he were propitiated. However, propitiation by the gift of pigs or money was not in Melkalano’s line, and collecting his followers he made a raid on poor Vulatewa and killed him and two others, cutting them into small pieces, and leaving them as they were killed.
They then drove out the other inhabitants, or rather fear had already lent them wings for flight, and destroyed the village. The poor people left everything they possessed behind, and took refuge in all directions among their friends. The people at the next village, where there was a flourishing school, took fright also, and cleared out of their homes leaving a fine handsome school-house and a new church almost finished. The boy added that as soon as Vulatewa was dead the sickness was stayed. We did no watering this evening as the tide did not suit. After a very quiet night at anchor on
Wednesday, 21st July.—We started watering ship. This is a busy process and keeps everyone on board well employed. Two large canvas tanks are fitted into each boat, and fastened underneath the thwarts. Into these the water is poured from buckets until both are full, a suction pump and hose on board empties these canvas tanks into iron receptacles under the floor of the schoolroom, and one boatload fills about a tank and a half. Seven or eight loads of water therefore finished the watering to-day. When everything was finished, the boys and girls went ashore to wash their clothes and bathe, and this day here is always looked forward to. The people came down from Tanrig in the morning, and I was busy packing up my things. After lunch I went ashore and started away the bearers with my belongings. How they managed to carry all the heavy boxes and a big harmonium up the hill and on for three or four miles, I don’t know, but they did it, and did not think much of it. I went on board again, and thanks to the Captain’s kindness, I got the loan of one of the ship’s boats, my own having been stolen by a labour ship last year. After an early dinner, escorted by Arthur, &c., I left for Tanrig. It was just getting dusk when I arrived, and I had no time to put anything straight. We had Evensong, and after that I prepared for bed. The mosquitos were somewhat numerous, but it was too late to get out my net, and so I put up with their music, and soon was oblivious of their singing or teasing. It seems quite natural to be here again, and as is usual the place has not changed at all. The boys however, have built me a beautiful new house, and I shall live in great comfort. I miss several faces too from the congregation, whom death has removed.
Thursday, 22nd July.—I left the Southern Cross last night expecting to get away early this morning, which I suppose she did. However I am so far away from the sea, that I have no means of knowing what she did. Naturally too, I was very busy this first day ashore. The first business after Morning Prayer, was to start off Samuel and the Tasmouri contingent who had spent the night here. They had a good many things to receive, but they got away in time to reach home before night. There were numbers of other things to be done also, such as putting the new window in the Church, unpacking the harmonium, making a platform for it, &c. The old mode of life seems to come back wonderfully naturally to me. Breakfast of rice, with sugar and cocoanut milk, and afterwards a cup of delicious Norfolk Island coffee, for which delicacy I am indebted to my kind friends Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher Nobbs. My midday meal is a bit of biscuit or roasted yam, and I reserve myself for the great meal of the day in the evening, not sumptuous but amply sufficient, fried rasher of bacon, fried taro pancake, and most excellent potatoes, for which I am indebted to Mr. Alfred Nobbs at Norfolk Island. After this I have a cup of milkless tea, which I brew in that charming teapot sent me from China by Dr. Codrington. They say ‘enough is as good as a feast,’ and I suppose this is why I am perfectly satisfied with this rough meal. After dinner I have nothing again till next morning.
Friday, 23rd July.—A most superb morning, and the place looks very charming early in the day and in the evening, at midday there is a strong glare and it is almost too dazzling. The church looks most picturesque and pretty, nestling in a perfect forest of bright coloured shrubs, among which are many European representatives, e.g. the Poinsettia, the Geranium, Marvel of Peru, and others imported from Norfolk Island. Arthur certainly has expended great pains and taste in the plantation, and it amply rewards him. Outside the stone fence is an orange grove, the dark green of which stands out in bold relief against the bright colours within. The church is still in a good state of preservation and will last for some time yet. It is getting inconveniently small however, and will soon want enlarging. It bears evident signs of being made good use of, and they tell me the congregation morning and evening is never short of 50 or 60. In a very short time I hope this will be a purely Christian village, and that not only in name, but in deed and in truth. I see considerable change here since I left in the number of the new houses, and the care of the town, for such it now has a right to be called. Before long the Church will be the centre of a number of private residences, and the people begin to build better houses. Arthur has constructed his like mine with high walls caned all round, and made it very comfortable.
Except the ground floor my house is quite as nice as a one roomed boarded house. The school and church are almost contiguous, and both are strong, substantial buildings. There are at present 80 names of scholars on the books, and these are regular attendants. I hope before I leave, please God, to see that number augmented. At present we are strong in teachers, with the two Arthurs, Patrick, Harry, Duwu, Tilegi, Kate and Agnes. This morning after service, a shortened form of Mattins with a hymn, we had school, and I hope progress has been made. I was pleased to hear the teachers questioning their classes on the subject about which they had been reading. The perseverance of the old men in puzzling out the dreary sheets is perfectly astonishing, but they will not be denied. They have, however, learnt much by heart, e.g. Lord’s Prayer, Creed, Te Deum, &c. The women are quite as persevering, if not more so, and I don’t like to damp their ardour by forbidding them to try and learn to read. The first class of girls are far away ahead of the boys, and know a very great deal. These same girls used to sing very nicely, but they have got into the most disagreeable drawl, and so far from following a leader, they take the bit between their teeth, and sing as fancy dictates. This I shall try and remedy before I leave again. We have now a harmonium for our services, thanks to the very great kindness of my friend and benefactress in England, Miss Mount, who is far more beneficent than I at all deserve. The two Arthurs play very fairly well, but Arthur Huqe is organist at present. After school I had visitors from Golvanua, a populous district some ten or twelve miles from here. They are very peculiar people and very wild, I am sorry to say I have only been there once, and that only a flying visit. I told them I was coming again soon, and they seemed pleased. I gave the head man some tobacco, and he said when I came to their place he would give me food and take care of me. Our people here are rather terrified of them, and the distance is so great that very few have ever been there. There were two nice little boys with them, and I asked them if they were not tired, but they scouted the idea.
I was so busy all day that I did not get away from home, and things begin to be a bit more ship-shape. I begin to feel very comfortable in my new house, but I dare say if my friends saw me, they would fancy it was far from comfort. However, I have a continual feast in a contented mind. In the evening, instead of school, we had singing, into which I endeavoured to infuse some life and harmony, and partially succeeded, but not to my taste quite yet. Then in the evening I held a teacher’s class, and we had much profitable conversation.
Saturday, 24th July.—This is observed by us as a whole holiday, and after Morning Prayer nothing is required of the school till the evening service. Arthur Aruduliwar decided to have his house thatched to-day, and a large party assembled to help him. Here they do everything by means of ‘Bees,’ (working parties). ‘Bees’ dig the gardens, plant the crops, dig the food, build the houses. The women do the cooking, and the owner of the house makes the feast, this is all he has to do, he is not supposed himself to do any work. Next week they are going to thatch a gamal, more stupendous work, and a great many people are going to be engaged, and there is to be much feasting, and I believe a dance. Marvellous harmony prevails in this community at present, and I never hear a harsh expression, nor witness a passionate action. They are the merriest, happiest, most contented people I ever saw, and I think the best natured. A party from Tasmouri appeared during the morning, and Thomas Aruloli among them. I asked him to stay the night, but he replied that it was his Sunday at Tasmate to-morrow, and he would not like to miss. I was pleased at this, for it showed the boy’s conscientiousness with respect to his self-imposed duty. I gave him his goods, and he and the others started again soon after for home. These natives don’t seem to know what fatigue is, and this double journey, which I should be sorry to undertake, they make nothing of it. After a frugal lunch the boys and I went to Ruos, where we bathed and washed our clothes. The river is certainly a boon and a blessing, and a good bathe has a most invigorating effect on one. In the evening the teachers came in and sat a long time with me, and we had much suitable conversation. While they were sitting here, a sound, which I had heard all day and couldn’t find the reason of, kept going on continually, and I asked Arthur what it was. He told me it was a bamboo placed high up on a top branch of a banyan tree in front of my house, in which notches were cut below each joint, and when the wind blew strong it sounded in the bamboo with the same effect that would be produced by so many persons blowing at once into the several orifices. This seemed to me very ingenious, but Arthur Huqe tells me they have the same practice at Opa. They say when the wind blows strong the sound is heard a great distance off, and I can quite imagine it.