19th.—Jaluit, the German seat of government for the Marshalls. We could see the commissioner's house, painted a terra-cotta red, looking very pretty under the green trees. Went on shore, a blazing hot day. We were all dressed up for the occasion, Louis with his best trousers, yellow silk socks of a very odd shape, knitted by his mother for a parting present, dirty white canvas shoes, and a white linen coat from the trade room that could not be buttoned because of its curious fit. It was hoped, however, that a gold watch and chain might cover all deficiencies. I wore a blue linen native dress, entirely concealed by a long black lace cloak, and on my head a black turban with a spotted veil. Our feet were certainly the weak point, my stockings being red and my shoes cut in ribbons by the coral. Not having gloves, I put on all my rings which flashed bravely in the sun. On board ship our appearance caused a decided sensation and was considered most respectable, and reflecting great credit on the Janet. The commissioner received us at his door, offered us wine, and while we were drinking it in came Captain Brandeis,[19] a slender, sallow man with a small head and the most extraordinary eyes of glittering blackness which seemed to shrink from meeting one's gaze and yet to challenge it with a nervous defiance. He was pale, and I thought he was prepared for an unpleasant meeting with Louis; that wore off very quickly, and the two were soon deep in conversation, I talking twaddle with the commissioner that Louis might have the captain alone. Louis is fascinated by the captain and I do not wonder; but his eye is too wild, he is too nervous, and his nose is not to be depended on—a weak and emotional nose. A man, I should say, capable of the most heroic deeds, sometimes preternaturally wise, and sometimes proportionately foolish; a born adventurer, but never a successful one.
The commissioner showed me the "garden," an acre or so of high-island plants grown in foreign soil brought in vessels. The commissioner's room was decorated with trophies of native arms, armour, etc. He promised to have a native sailing chart made for Louis. These charts are very curious things, indeed, made of sticks, some curved, some straight, caught here and there by a small yellow cowry. The cowries represent islands, the sticks both currents and winds and days' sailing. The distances between the islands have nothing to do with miles, but with hours only. These charts are very little used now, only one old chief knowing how to make them, but the time was when each young chief must pass his examination in the charts, knowing them by heart, as they were never taken to sea but kept at home for reference and continual study. We lunched with the commissioner and, the steam-whistle calling us soon after, we went on board to start immediately for Majuro.
20th.—At Majuro early in the morning, a pearl of atolls. The lagoon, large and round, but not so large that we cannot distinctly follow the coastline. At the entrance it is broken into the most enchanting small islets, all very green and soft, the lagoon clear and in colour like a chrysoprase. Mr. Henderson offered us a little house on the windward side, so we took our mats and blankets and a lantern with us in the boat. The house was the old "lookout" consisting of a single room with latticework running along two sides of the wall under the roof; this lattice served for windows. The door had a padlock so we could lock it as we came and went.
White trader and his wife "Topsy," Majuro Island
I had taken my paints with me and made a little portrait of a native girl called "Topsy" by her white husband. She was a very small, very thin creature, greatly given to dress. She seemed to live with several other women in a sort of boatbuilders' shed, where I would always find her, her thick hair shining with oil and carefully braided, a different head-dress for a different hour—her keys hanging below her rows of necklaces, busily employed at something or other; sometimes it was a necklace she was stringing on shreds of pandanus leaves, sometimes a new print gown she was cutting out with a most capable, businesslike air; or she might be feeding her monkey ("monkaia," she called it) or her gentle-eyed dog; or, most interesting task of all, sorting her possessions into order. She had two pretty large camphor-wood chests quite filled up with cotton prints, coloured handkerchiefs, and various accessories of the toilet. She dressed for the portrait in a gown of cheese-cloth drawn in at the waist by a white cotton belt edged with blue and white; the yoke of the bodice and the sleeves were trimmed to match, and the hem of the skirt was marked with a black braid. Her hair, smoothly drawn back over her little rabbit head, was ornamented by two bands worked in a design with beads, and her necklaces were innumerable. On one arm she proudly showed me the word Majuro tattooed and on the other, Topsy. It seems that she was a castaway from another island, every other soul in the canoe being lost. She was absolutely ignorant, and when something was said about her heart, gravely assured us that she had no heart, being solid meat all through. Topsy sat for her portrait most conscientiously as though it were a photograph, not moving a hair's breadth, nor hardly winking. After each sitting she returned to exactly the same position. I tried in vain to make her take it more easily; when I talked to her (she knew half a dozen words of English) she responded with stiff lips, trying to speak without moving them. I took her a wreath which delighted her, and just before we left I came across a red silk bodice with a smocked yoke and embroidered cuffs; just the thing, I felt, for Topsy. The captain, Louis, and Lloyd were with me when I gave it to her. She instantly slipped off her upper garments, showing a very pretty little figure, and we all together robed her in the bodice. Topsy is quite a great lady with her female attendants, living in her boat-house, sleeping on her mat beside her two chests with her dog, and that rich possession the "monkaia." Some one the captain knew took a large monkey to Savage Island, but the people would not allow it to remain; it was, they said, derogatory to their dignity.
There are broad, well-kept walks on Majuro, and to cross the island to our cabin was like passing through a palm-house. When somebody remembered it, fresh palm toddy[20] was brought to us in the early morning, and once tea. Louis slept on shore with me one or two nights, and then, as it rained a good deal, it was judged better for him to remain on board. The next night I slept alone. At about two in the morning I waked with the consciousness that some one was in the room besides myself. I peered about without moving and saw two native men who moved into the moonlight so I could see them distinctly. I said, "Who's there? What do you want? Get away with you!" in the gruffest voice I could assume, and after a few moments' hesitation, they made off. One evening, while Louis still slept in the lookout, quite late, the room became filled with a peculiar and pleasant fragrance. For some time we could not make it out, but it finally occurred to us that it was the scent of pandanus nut. Some native, overcome by curiosity, must have crept to the house so softly that we did not hear him, but the pandanus he had been chewing betrayed him. As they all seemed to think that I should not stop alone so far away, Lloyd came over and slept on Louis's mat. Some of the pandanus nuts here I like very much; they are juicy and of fragrant, tart flavour like a good apple.