Dance at Apemama
In the evening we had a farewell dinner with Tin Jack, champagne, toasts, speeches, etc. At night a party went on shore with fireworks; Mr. Henderson answered with a display from the ship. As I was watching them I overheard a conversation between a white fireman and our cook about the dangers of the land. "Why, one of my mates," said the fireman, "got lost in the bush once, and it was a whole day before he got a drink of water. I wouldn't take the chance of that for all the money you could give me." I reminded him that wrecked sailors had been known to suffer from thirst; he had never thought of that, he said, but anyhow it didn't seem the same. The fireworks were very successful, and I think pleased our black boys more than any one else. The ship rang with their shouts and musical, girlish laughter. All afternoon they had been scraping the ship's sides under water; it looked very odd to see them kicking like frogs and working at the same time; yet, after all this, they were ready for more dancing and songs. Louis and I agreed that we would willingly pay a high price for only Sally Day's superfluous energy to use at our discretion. All these men are from cannibal islands, but do not like that fact referred to. When Mr. Hird teases them about it they declare they were mere infants when they were taken away and can remember nothing about the savage customs of their people.
6th.—Off Apemama, our black boys lying in a row under the awning, one reading the Bible (it was Sunday) and another playing hymns on an accordion. The King took breakfast with us, and we bade him good-bye, not so sadly as before, because now we have some hope of seeing him again.
7th.—Nanouti first thing in the morning. Went on shore after breakfast to "Billy Jones's cousin's" place where British colours were flying. Tin Jack wished to be photographed in his new place in the midst of his new surroundings, so we had the camera with us. Lloyd and I wandered about and were astonished at the number of houses we saw piled up with dried cocoanuts not yet made into copra. We were told that a famine was feared and these nuts were stored as provisions. Speaking of provisions, we were struck by the difference in the condition of our Piru friends since we were fellow passengers with them on the schooner Equator. Then they were in the most abject poverty, hardly a mat among them, no food, only a few shells of water and a few old nuts. When we took them off Apemama they came as rich people, with bundles of fine mats, stacks of "sawdust" food and dried pandanus fruit (very good, tasting like dried figs) and quantities, generally, of the best food produced in Apemama. The people all have cotton-print clothing as well as fine ridis and baskets full of tobacco with plenty of pipes.
While Lloyd and I were walking about in Nanouti, Tin Jack went back to the ship quite oblivious of the fact that we were left prisoners on account of the tide, for the entire day. When we arrived we had to take down part of the wall of a fishing ground to land at the house. We left the ship at ten and were tired, hungry, and very cross at being so deserted. Lloyd finally went off to try and find a canoe, hoping to reach the ship in that way and get something for me to eat. I had got very wet in crossing the surf in our own boat and was dressed in a filthy gown and chemise lent me by a native woman. I asked for a dry gown when I arrived and the woman gave me one she had cast off; I did not know what to do, as it was quite transparent, so I had to stay in the inner room. Tin Jack, hearing of this, demanded a chemise for me. The woman removed the one she was wearing, in a dark corner, folded it up, and then pretended to take it out of a trunk which she opened for the purpose. After this piece of either pride or delicacy I felt bound to put it on. As my head ached, I lay down on a mat, with an indescribably filthy pillow under my head, and tried to sleep. The people of the house, some twenty in number, came in every few moments to look at me; if the children made a noise they were smacked, thereupon bawling loudly enough to raise the roof, and occasionally a crowd of outside children would be beaten from the house with howls and yells. I never saw so much "discipline" administered before in any of the islands. Outside my window a child was steadily smacked for crying for at least half an hour. I actually did fall asleep once, but was quickly awakened by a savage dog fight just under where I lay, the house standing high on piles. This house, belonging to the trader, was one of the best I had seen, containing four rooms separated by stockades, with a lofty, airy roof, while along the shady side ran a neat veranda. The whole house was tied together with sennit the sides and ends thatched as well as the roof.
Lloyd, having searched for about an hour and a half, had found a canoe, and a native willing to take him off for the high price of ten sticks of tobacco. In the meantime, Tin Jack, awakening to a sense of the enormity of his behaviour, had dispatched another canoe from the ship with some sandwiches, a tin of sardines (useless with no tin opener), and a bottle of stout without a corkscrew. When Lloyd discovered this, he would not wait a moment, but tried to get back to me. In spite of all he could do, he was landed in the surf some two miles short of where I was. He struggled along the reef, sometimes knocked down by the surf and most of the time up to his armpits in water. He had on shoes of leather which became water-logged, and the nails, coming loose, tore the soles of his feet, adding to the difficulty of walking. He also cut his ankle on the reef and grazed his leg, both serious things to have happen here. (A scratch from dead coral is apt to cause blood-poisoning and is greatly feared. The captain of a man-of-war was said to have lost his leg in this way.) There was also the fear in his mind that, thinking he had landed, I might have given my leavings to the natives. I really cannot imagine why I did not; I several times made a movement to do so and then something distracted my attention. It was quite dark before the ship's boat could get in for us, and very chill. Tin Jack, most eager in his apologies, had a bad quarter of an hour.
A cat, I hear, has been added to our ship's company. At Majuro a man who had been shipwrecked there, and was taken on board the Janet for Sydney, had a pet cat. One of the sailors found her swimming round the ship trying to climb up the steep sides. An oar was put out for her and she climbed in, almost drowned.
I begged a fish from one of the black boys, and with a nut, a pinch of cayenne pepper, an old dried lemon, and some sea water, I made "miti" sauce and gave Louis a nice dish of raw fish for his dinner. He relished it very much, and ate all I prepared.[22]