Quiros, the first Spanish navigator of the Pacific, gave to an island the name "Gente Hermosa" (Beautiful People), which has always been ascribed to Olesenga or Quiros Island; but since the memory of man Quiros has been uninhabited until the advent of the American Jennings. It is very possible that the navigator meant Manihiki, or its neighbouring island Rakahoa, as the isle of beautiful people. It is significant that Manihiki is always conspicuously marked on even the smallest maps of the world, no doubt from the fact that its delightful people have attracted so much attention from seamen that the place has acquired an artificial importance out of all proportion to its few square miles of reef.
The regular diet of the Manihikians is composed almost entirely of cocoanuts. The pandanus seeds are boiled and chewed, but never made into foodstuff as is done in the Gilberts. There are pigs and fowls in abundance, but these are only killed on great occasions, such as marriages or deaths. Sucking pigs are not killed, but only large ones, the larger the better. There are no white women on Manihiki, and but three white men—an absconding produce-merchant, a runaway marine, and a young Englishman who was wrecked on a neighbouring island. These men live on the bounty of the natives, and though they dislike eating copra, or "cocoanut steak," as it is called, they seem to thrive very well upon it.
We landed on the beach as there was no entrance to the lagoon. The aspect of the reef was not very reassuring as we rowed toward it, but our men took us through a narrow, tortuous passage, and in a few minutes we were shaking hands and exchanging salutations with the natives, a pleasant, smiling crowd with many beautiful children. We were delighted to find that we had arrived at a most interesting period, that of the yearly jubilee. No one could tell us how this institution, which is known in other islands besides Manihiki, first arose. For one week out of every year all laws are held in abeyance, and the island gives itself up to hilarious enjoyment without fear of consequences, singing, beating the cocoanut-wood drum, and dancing according to the old heathen customs. At any other time the punishment for heathen dances is most severe.
The King of Manihiki in the centre, with the Island Judge on his right and Tin Jack, seated, on his left.
The man squatting in the foreground is one of the beach-combers.
The three "beach-combers" were all well dressed, in coats and trousers, and very good-looking. One man said his present way of life "had an air of loafing on the natives" which he disliked, but they all seemed proud of their high position as whites, with the exception of the ex-marine, who had fallen under the scorn of his companions for becoming "kanaka-ised." Still, that they were under some subjection, we could see, but owned themselves well used. They do not exactly like copra, but, as one said: "We have no right to complain; they give us what they have." They had had no tobacco for months, which they felt a great privation. When a ship comes in, the natives, men, women, and children, often smoke the strong trade tobacco until they fall down insensible, sometimes becoming convulsed as in epilepsy.
The trader, a half-caste, had already boarded the Janet in a boat of his own, but his wife, a stout, good-natured, sensible-looking woman, was waiting on the beach to receive us. She at once took possession of me as her right, and I was triumphantly swept off to her house, the crowd at our heels; here we were regaled on cocoanuts, while all the population who could crowd into the room gazed on us unwinking. The windows, also, were filled, which cut off the air and made the place rather suffocating. The children were made to sit down in the front row so that the older people could see over their heads. One old woman made me feel quite uncomfortable. Her eyes remained fixed, her jaw dropped, and nothing for a single moment diverted her attention from what she evidently regarded as a shocking and wonderful spectacle. Natives have said that the first sight of white people is dreadful, as they look like corpses walking. I have myself been startled by the sight of a crowd of whites after having seen only brown-skinned people for a long time. Louis has a theory that we whites were originally albinos. Certainly we are not a nice colour. I remember as a child the words "flesh colour" were sickening to me, and I could not bear to see them in my paint-box.
The room was neat and clean, as were all the houses in the village. Most of them contained a bedstead cut out of imported hardwood with a spread of gay patchwork, and a mat-covered sofa, very high and wide. In an inner room were great stacks of pearl shell, not, I should say, of the very best quality, and much smaller than the law allows in the Paumotus. The shell is gathered in the lagoon by native divers. Very few pearls are found, probably because the shell is taken so young. Leaving the trader's house, we started to cross the island, which is very narrow; Louis thought about one hundred and fifty yards and I no more than one hundred yards. On the way we passed a crowd of dancers, ranged in two rows, the women on one side, the men on the other, in front of the "speak-house." The dance was more like the Marquesans' than we had ever seen. The European costumes in which most of the people had dressed for our reception rather spoiled the effect, though many wore wreaths and head-dresses made of dyed leaves. The native dyes give beautiful, soft colours, yellow, red, and pink, which they also use in hats and mats, some of the latter being exquisitely fine and as pliant as cloth.
We found the lagoon of crystal clearness and dotted with little islands. Numbers of small vessels were lying at anchor; no doubt they had been collecting the shell. Though it was very lovely to look at, we did not stay long on the borders of the lagoon, being driven away by an ancient and fishlike smell. On our way back we went into the church and the speak-house. In the speak-house, a very good building of coral, were stocks which were used to punish malefactors. These stocks consisted of a couple of ring-like handcuffs fastened, one above the other, a foot from the ground, at the side of a post. The church, a thatched coral building without flooring, was really beautiful. The seats, with backs, are in rows, each with a fine, narrow mat spread over it. On either side run galleries, the balustrades elaborately carved and stained with yellow, red, and pink dyes. In the middle of one balustrade the word "Zion" was carved. The pulpit was a mass of carving and inlaid mother-of-pearl; the altar, which ran round it, was covered with fringed mats extremely fine and flexible and worked in different colours.
Among many others we made the acquaintance of a man who had been in Samoa, blown there in a storm. There were with him one other man and three little girls. It began to blow, he said, the sea rose very high, and the air and sky grew black. Suddenly his boat capsized and "my girls," he said, "swim—swim—swim in the sea." With their help he got the boat righted and gathered up what he could of his cargo, green cocoanuts and copra, and ran for Samoa. "Was any one frightened?" I asked. "Only the other man," he said. We met two of his little girls; one seemed clever and had picked up a little Samoan and a little English while she was in Apia. We asked her name. "Anna," she proudly answered. The other called herself Anna Maria.