Two Years with the Natives in the Western Pacific

by Felix Speiser

Another village where pottery was made was Pespia, a little inland. The chief obligingly gathered the scattered population, and I had ample opportunity to buy pots and watch the making of them. The method is different from that at Wus, for a primitive wheel, a segment of a thick bamboo, is used. On this the clay is wound up in spirals and the surface smoothed inside and out. This is the method by which most of the prehistoric European pottery was made. The existence of the potter’s art in these two villages only of all the New Hebrides is surprising. Clay is found in other districts, and the idea that the natives might have learnt pottery from the Spaniards lacks all probability, as the Spaniards never visited the west coast of Santo. The two entirely different methods offer another riddle.

I made my way back along the coast, round Cape Cumberland. One of my boys having run away, I had to carry his load myself, and although it was not the heaviest one, I was glad when I found a substitute for him. This experience gave me an insight into the feelings of a tired and discontented carrier.

At Wora I found that my host had returned to his station near Talamacco. So I returned to Talamacco by boat; the earthquake had been very violent there, and had caused the greatest damage, and I heard that all the new houses of the Messrs. Thomas at Hog Harbour had been ruined.

Times had been troublous in other respects at Talamacco; the natives, especially the Christians, were fighting, and one Sunday they were all ready, looking very fierce, to attack each other with clubs and other weapons, only neither side dared to begin. I asked them to do the fighting out in the open, so that I could take a picture of it, and this cooled them down considerably. They sat down and began a long palaver, which ended in nothing at all, and, indeed, no one really knew what had started the excitement.

In spite of the supercargo’s announcement that the steamer would arrive on the twentieth, she did not come till the first of the following month. This kept me constantly on the look out and ready for departure, and unable to do anything of importance. At last we sailed, touching the Banks Islands on our route; and after enjoying a few days of civilization on board, I went ashore at Tassimaloun, on the south-west corner of Santo, where I had the pleasure of being Mr. C.’s guest. My object there was to follow the traces of the pygmy population, but as the natives mostly live inland, and only rarely come to the coast, I had to go in search of them. At that time I was often ill with fever, and could not do as much as I could have wished. Once I tried to reach the highest mountain of the islands, Santo Peak, but my guides from the mission village of Vualappa led me for ten days through most uninteresting country and an unfriendly population without even bringing me to the foot of the mountain. I had several unpleasant encounters with the natives, during one of which I fully expected to be murdered, and when our provisions were exhausted we had to return to the coast. But every time I saw the tall pyramid of Santo Peak rising above the lower hills I longed to be the first European to set foot on it, and I tried it at last from the Tassiriki side.

After long consultations with the natives, I at last found two men who were willing to guide me to the mountain. I decided to give up all other plans, and to take nothing with me but what was strictly necessary. On the second day we climbed a hill which my guides insisted was the Peak, the highest point of the island. I pointed out a higher summit, but they said that we would never get up there before noon, and, indeed, they did everything they could to delay our advance, by following wrong trails and being very slow about clearing the way. Still, after an hour’s hard work, we were on the point in question, and from there I could see the real Santo Peak, separated from us by only one deep valley, as far as I could judge in the tangle of forest that covered everything. The guides again pretended that we were standing on the highest mountain then, and that it would take at least a fortnight to reach the real Peak. I assured them that I meant to be on its top by noon, and when they showed no inclination whatever to go on, I left them and went on with my boys. We had to dive into a deep ravine, where we found a little water and refilled our bottles. Then we had to ascend the other side, which was trying, as we had lost the trail and had to climb over rocks and through the thickest bush I ever met. The ground was covered with a dense network of moss-grown trunks that were mouldering there, through which we often fell up to our shoulders, while vines and ferns wound round our bodies, so that we did our climbing more with our arms than with our feet. After a while one of the guides joined us, but he did not know the way; at last we found it, but there were many ups and downs before we attained the summit. The weather now changed, and we were suddenly surrounded by the thick fog that always covers the Peak before noon. The great humidity and the altitude combine to create a peculiar vegetation in this region; the tree-ferns are tremendously developed, and the natives pretend that a peculiar species of pigeon lives here.

I was surprised to find any paths at all up here; but the natives come here to shoot pigeons, and several valleys converge at Santo Peak, so that there are important passes near its summits. One of my boys gave out here, and we left him to repose. The rest of the way was not difficult, but we were all very tired when we reached the top. There was another summit, a trifle higher, separated from the first by a long ridge, but we contented ourselves with the one we were on, especially as we could see absolutely nothing. I was much disappointed, as on a clear day the view of Santo and the whole archipelago must be wonderful. I deposited a bottle with a paper of statistics, which some native has probably found by this time. We were wet and hungry, and as it was not likely that the fog would lift, we began the descent. Without the natives I never could have found the way back in the fog; but they followed the path easily enough, and half-way down we met the other guides coming slowly up the mountain. They seemed pleased to have escaped the tiresome climb; possibly they may have had other reasons for their dislike of the Peak. They were rather disappointed, I thought, that I had had my way in spite of their resistance. They now promised to lead us back by another route, and we descended a narrow valley for several hours; then came a long halt, as my guides had to chat with friends in a village we passed. At last I fairly had to drive them away, and we went down another valley, where we found a few women bathing in a stream, who ran away at the sight of us. We bathed, and then enjoyed an excellent meal of taro, which one of the guides had brought from the village. Before leaving, one of my boys carefully collected all the peelings of my food, and threw them into the river, so that I might not be poisoned by them, he said. A last steep climb ended the day’s exertions, and we entered the village where we were to sleep. While the guides bragged to the men of their feats, the women brought us food and drink, and I had a chance to rest and look about me.

I was struck by the great number of women and the very small number of men in this place; after a while I found out the reason, which was that ten of the men had been kidnapped by a Frenchman while on their way to a plantation on the Segond Channel, where they meant to work a few days. The women are now deprived of their husbands for at least three years, unless they find men in some other village. If five of the ten ever return, it will be a good average, and it is more than likely that they will find a deserted and ruined village if they do come back.

This is one of many illustrations of how the present recruiting system and the laxity of the French authorities combine to ruin the native population. (I have since heard that by request of the British authorities these men were brought back, but only after about nine months had passed, and without receiving any compensation. Most kidnapping cases never come to the ears of the authorities at all.)

As our expedition was nearly at an end, and I had no reason to economize my provisions, I gave some to the villagers, and the women especially who had hardly ever tasted rice or tinned meat, were delighted. One old hag actually made me a declaration of love, which, unfortunately, I could not respond to in the same spirit.