It is etiquette here for the host or someone appointed by him to see you off the premises, and this afternoon we were escorted some distance from the village by most of the male population, and when at what was looked upon as a respectable distance they stepped to one side, a sign that that was the last we should have of their society, and calling my name the host said, “Iya, go sage,” which is perhaps equal to “There, you go up,” to which I was supposed to respond calling his name, “Io, go toga,” “All right, you stop.” We then started for home. Arriving at Na Ruru the major part of the population were awaiting us, and Anthony the teacher with them, fear has driven him and his little flock to take refuge here, the third exodus they have made from their homes, and it is hoped that at last they will be safe from the ruthless incursions of the heathen bushmen. Poor fellow, he had begun to build a substantial new church, which was left with the other houses in their precipitate flight, but nothing daunted he has begun a third time to collect materials for another building. Had they continued however where they were, I doubt if they would have been molested. The only excuse for so doing would have been that they were friends of the villagers attacked by the bushmen. We sat for some time in conversation with the friendly people until the sinking sun warned us to be up and moving homewards. After prayers and singing, which we always have by an unvariable custom instead of school on Wednesday evenings, I received a request from some heathen strangers, twenty in number, that they might dance before me. I assented, and now at a late hour they are still at it, and going ahead with such vigour that I do not like to stop them. This dance is a piece of policy, for I am supposed to give them a handsome gratuity at the end, and the request to-night has been for tobacco. I am supposed also to be very liberal on these occasions, and certainly they have earned their wages. Their dance is very like that of the Tanrig people, but of course the songs are somewhat different, and to my taste not so pleasing. It is certainly curious that people living really in such close proximity should speak a dialect so utterly different that I can scarcely understand a word they say. I always assent to their dancing for it brings them here in large numbers, and for no ulterior purposes, and I like in every way to cultivate all friendly feeling between ourselves and our neighbours. Their powers of endurance are wonderful, there were many small boys among the dancers to-night, and the hands of my watch pointed to nearly 2 o’clock a.m. before they finished, and previously they must have walked some twelve or fifteen miles over very rugged country. It must be considered too that these dances are performed without any intermission, and carried through with great vigour to the very end. I believe they had contemplated going on till morning, but that would be too terrible. Now as I write this they are gone, and the place is as quiet as if I were alone the sole inhabitant. I am now quite ready for bed and have really been so for hours, but the din and noise would render sleep an impossibility. God grant that in time these heathen songs may be changed for Christian hymns.
Thursday, 29th July.—My house has been thronged all day with heathen visitors, and I have tried to say something about our blessed religion. I hope they were duly impressed. They certainly gave me a warm invitation to visit them which I shall not be backward to accept, and moreover they promised to pick me out two or three boys to go to Norfolk Island. One man was most anxious to visit Norfolk Island, and I promised him that if he were so minded when the ship came back his wish should be gratified. I dare say I was quite safe in my promise, for no doubt he will cry off at the last. However, I hope I may get the boys. Everything was a matter of astonishment to these poor people, who have rarely if ever seen a white man, and a trumpet and pop gun which I gave a small boy produced the most unbounded delight. I wish my good friend Archdeacon Stock and Miss Kreeft had been here to see what unfeigned joy their kind gifts produced. A prettily dressed doll I brought with me, and which came too, I think, from Wellington, has been the seven day wonder during my visit. Yesterday one of the boys threw it down by accident, and the frail waxwork fell to pieces. There has been more lament over that lifeless toy than over half a dozen ordinary female human beings. Agnes, however, this morning disgorged a beautiful doll of her own, which she got from a Christmas tree, carefully wrapped in ample folds of calico, and the Bushmen I think will never lose the impression the revelation of its beauty produced upon them.
How true it is that little things please little minds, and what a boon it is that the adage is so true. To us, whom civilization and the natural fitness of things have raised so far above nature, it is a matter of a striking character to see these heathens on their travels. They are burdened with absolutely nothing except a club or bow and arrows in their hands. Their dress is but a slight remove from the original fig leaf of the garden of Eden, and they carry neither bedding nor food. They sleep anywhere and eat what they can get. Their endurance in the matter of food too is extraordinary, whether they eat or whether they eat not does not seem to affect them, and in this way they beat us all to fits on the march. These Bushmen tell me they prefer making a journey in rain for it is cooler, and the only change of raiment they need at the end is to dry nature’s clothing before a fire. They are a very hardy race, I suppose from being inured to hardship all their lives.
I missed poor blind Sulu from school to-day, and on enquiring for him was told that his pet pig, whose tusks are getting long and very sharp, importuned him beyond bearing, and that in kicking out to get rid of him the tusk ran into his foot and almost right through it. Poor old fellow, I am going by and bye to see what I can do to administer comfort to him.
Arthur too is very much out of sorts, and could not put in an appearance at school to-day. For some months he has suffered from lassitude and weakness, and has been troubled with nasty sores. Fortunately I have a bottle of Hop Bitters with me, the effect of which I am going to try with him. Fancy the popularity of this wonderful tonic when it even finds its way to these distant islands! I have known it used with very beneficial results, and I hope Arthur may improve under its influence and strengthening properties.
Friday, July 30th.—A somewhat idle and prurient curiosity led me with some of our people to ‘Uta’ this morning to witness a sort of masked ball about which I had heard a great deal, and which was supposed to be something quite extraordinary. We started fairly early in the morning, and arrived at the place after a long, hot, and fatiguing walk. The ceremonies were not perfectly arranged when we got there, and we waited a long, weary time. It was mainly through my urging that they began when they did, and after all the affair was disappointing.
The initial performance was a song sung by four men to an accompaniment beaten on bamboos, but that was by no means impressive. The females during this performance advanced and squatted around the performers and poor things were almost roasted alive under the blazing rays of the midday sun. When the song was finished the maskers rushed out, 17 in number with very curious and savage-looking head pieces, and petticoats of long sago palm leaves reaching almost to the ground. They presented a very weird and uncanny appearance certainly as they danced forth and back and uttered their gruff “Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh.” I do not wonder at weak minded females and small children being very terrified of them. The head pieces were decided works of art, and very well made. Thirteen were almost entirely of the same make and pattern and are called “Rauwe,” three were again somewhat of a different shape and fashion called “Tamate,” and one very elongated and strangely devised mask also called a ‘Tamate’ completed the list. When the dancing was over which was called ‘Welu,’ the Rauwes rushed flying about all over the place, and the wiser course was to keep out of their way. In former days I believe they carried heavy sticks, or even clubs, and struck at anyone who failed to get out of their way. Boys and females were the chief objects of their attacks, and sometimes considerable injury resulted. Of course if any one retaliated and gave blow for blow, a skrimmage of perhaps serious and general nature resulted, and ended probably in lives being sacrificed.
To-day these rough maskers carried clubs and long handled axes, and nothing was feared from them. The tamates were much more quiet and danced quietly about like so many kiwis (native New Zealand bird), and molested no one. They represent a higher grade in the social scale and their intentions are always pacific. For some days after the ceremony they are allowed to sail about the country and take what they please in the shape of food, &c. if it happens to come in their way, indeed I believe the people put it out for them and render every assistance to send them away full handed. The tamate mask has no eyehole, but the rauwe head piece has every facility for observation to facilitate its hilter skilter rush. The native idea of these things I believe is that if anyone dies who has not paid for these masks, he is haunted by them in the hereafter, at their places of departed spirits, “Banoi.” The tamates protect the disembodied spirits and conduct them safely to their final destination in Banoi. Moreover, I believe that those who die without propitiating these tamates and rauwes by gifts of pigs and mats are transformed into flying foxes, and adorn for ever the courts of an ill-fated Banoi. When the ‘welu’ was over, great cakes of cooked food were disgorged from their covering of leaves and distributed, the men behind a very curious screen called “Bugoro” distributing to men, and the women on one side of the village square distributing to women. The busy and animated scene was often disturbed by one or more of the rauwes rushing wildly about, and the women utterly regardless of food or hospitality, tore hilter skilter in screams of terror to some place of temporary security. It was now getting late, and as we had a journey before us and the performance was virtually over, except the kava drinking, we wished our friend good-bye and started for home, getting here in time for dinner, both by the time of day and by the condition of an appetite which had not been appeased since morning. On the whole I do not think the ceremony was at all worth the labour it cost to witness, and having seen it once, one would scarcely care to trouble about it a second time. However, it has its due effect upon the natives of both sexes, and it is looked upon by many as of paramount importance as regards both the present time and the future. To the newly initiated it gives certain social rights and privileges, but the strict observance with many is a thing of the past. It has only to do with the males, females may enjoy no special benefit from the practice except to assist as ornamental observers, and to bring beast burdens of food for distribution. What becomes of their poor souls hereafter is a matter for no anxiety or consideration, indeed I suppose the doubt is as to their possessing such things as souls at all, so that their final destination can only be a matter of supreme indifference and of the most insignificant importance. A hazy indefinite belief therefore these people have in some hereafter, and they endeavour to make some provision for it while they can, but they have no distinct form of religion, nor any images to which they offer worship. They have some kind of propitiatory sacrifice however of food and shell money, and whatever prayer they have is made to the spirits of their ancestors. Almost invariably a dying man calls to his father, and we have frequently noticed that when a sick person arrives at this stage of illness, his case is very bad indeed, if not hopeless. Yesterday as we were waiting at the entrance to the village, the people called my attention to a peculiar kind of red grass which had been chewed up, and the refuse strewn about all over the path, and they told me that this was done by the master of ceremonies to make the visitors take delight and interest in the festivities, and to raise the wish in the minds of the uninitiated to swell the ranks of those who had already taken the initiatory steps in social rank. Like all natives of course these people are utterly superstitious, and any little thing of a slightly extraordinary nature serves to determine or deter their mode of action. There is a certain class of persons among them who read these signs and comment upon them, just as the ancient oracles, and these persons are consulted in every matter of public or private interest. No one takes a journey or engages in any matter without recourse to this oracle, but as of old in case of failure, the matter is explained ambiguously. Superstition indeed creeps into almost every concern of daily life, and its effect upon one would be very wearying and irritating, except of course that superior mindedness ought to condescend and bear with such human frailties when one considers the education under which these poor folks have been brought up from generation to generation. Much, I think, of this weak mindedness is passing away under Christian regime, and more and more I suppose will it disappear as the day breaks and the shadows flee away.
Saturday, July 31st.—A peculiarly cold night, so cold indeed that I could not sleep even under a blanket. The people all experienced the same cold, and they said it was because of the calmness of the night and the heavy dew. Had there been a fire near, I could readily have got up to sit over it. The nights here are generally cool, but last night was absolutely cold. What shall I do when I go to England? This morning however, it is supremely lovely, and the wind in the S.W. for a wonder, for the S.E. Trades usually blow nine months out of the twelve. This morning I tried a photograph, which I dare say will prove a failure, from the extra care I took to prevent all mistakes. I only attempted one, but I hope I shall gain courage and experience as I go on and be able to reproduce some of these lovely views here. Of course every view is shut in more or less by the density of the surrounding bush, but this village has a considerable clearing and a good long vista for a photograph. My first attempt was on the church with some natives in the foreground, but the view will miss a great deal in a picture, owing to the absence of the beautiful colouring. It seems the fashion now-a-days here to build houses, and large parties to-day were busy thatching two new ones. I went with Patrick, Arthur Huqe and some more of the boys to Ruosi where we had a delicious bathe in the river, washed our clothes, caught prawns which we cooked very ingeniously in a bamboo. The prawns are put into the bamboo with water, and then placed on the fire with the orifice slightly elevated. It soon starts boiling, and to prevent the bamboo (always a green one) burning through it is constantly turned round and round, and in a very short time the prawns come out cooked red, and ready for eating. Cooked in salt water they are very nice, and they are looked upon as an especial delicacy when eaten with cocoanut cream. It is perfectly surprising what a number of dishes these natives wot of, and how frequently they vary their menu. Here they are especially good cooks, and I like most of their dishes very much. They are all slightly indigestible, but that one somehow expects. In most Melanesian islands the yam is the staple article of diet, but here the taro has the preference, and is planted in larger quantities. The yam likes a dry situation, but the kind of taro in common use here flourishes in a damp soil, and this is prepared for it by a neat and skilful system of irrigation.
While we were sitting there at Ruosi one of the men told me a curious custom they have here. I knew him of old to be an habitual and heavy kava drinker, now he told me he never drank it and had not for months. It appears that persons who enjoy a certain rank can deny the use of this beverage to any one they like, and they place a sort of ‘tabu’ over the kava bowl, and this tabu is not taken off again until a pig or its equivalent is paid. A short time ago kava drinking became so general in the school as to impede the working of it, for teachers and scholars drank alike. The boys and young men therefore met together and laid mutual tabus upon each other, and for some time past very little kava has been drunk by those attending, and no one of those on whom the tabu was laid has chosen yet to take it off.