Night crept across the wide sea, and a golden sunset was followed by a long afterglow. Far away on the softly shining silver we saw a sail, small as a fly, that drifted slowly seaward and was swallowed up by the darkness, from which the stars emerged one by one. The women had disappeared in the huts; the men were sitting outside, around the fires, and, thinking I was asleep, talked about me in biche la mar.
First they wondered why a man should care to climb up a mountain simply to come down again; and my boys told them of all my doings, about my collecting curios and skulls, of my former wanderings and the experiences we had had, and how often the others had tried to shoot me, etc. In short, I found out a great many things I had never known, and I shivered a little at hearing what I had escaped, if all the boys said was true. At last, when I had been sufficiently discussed, which was long after midnight, they lay down, each beside a small fire, and snored into the cool, clear night.
The following morning was brilliantly fine. We took a hearty leave of our hosts, and raced, singing and shouting, down the steep hills, and so home. The fine weather was at an end. The sky was cloudy, the barometer fell and a thin rain pierced everything. Two days later the steamer arrived, and I meant to go aboard, but a heavy swell from the west set in, such as I had never seen before, although not a breath of wind was stirring. These rollers were caused by a cyclone, and gave us some idea of its violence. I despaired of ever reaching the steamer, but Mr. B. was an expert sailor, and making the most of a slight lull, he brought me safely through the surf and on board. His goods, however, could not be loaded on to the steamer, which immediately sailed. We passed New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day at anchor in South-West Bay, Malekula, while a terrific gale whipped the water horizontally toward the ship and across the deck. We spent gloomy holidays, shut up in the damp, dark steamer, unable to stay on deck, restless and uncomfortable below. How one learns to appreciate the British impassiveness which helps one, in such conditions, to spend a perfectly happy day with a pipe and a talk about the weather!
On the morning of the third day we lay off the east coast of Malekula, on a blue, shining sea, with all the landscape as peaceful and bright as if there were no such thing as a cyclone in the world.
I landed, packed my collections, which I had left in Vao, and, with the help of a missionary, I reached Bushman Bay, whence Mr. H. kindly took me to Vila. There H.B.M. Resident Commissioner, Mr. Morton King, did me the honour of offering me his hospitality, so that I was suddenly transplanted to all the luxuries of civilized life once more. I spent the days packing the collections awaiting me at Vila, and which I found in fairly good condition; the evenings were passed in the interesting society of Mr. King, who had travelled extensively and was an authority on matters relating to the Orient. He inspired me with admiration for the British system of colonial politics with its truly idealistic tendencies. The weeks I spent at Port Vila will always be a pleasant memory of a time of rest and comfort and stimulating intercourse.
In February I left for Nouméa, where I hoped to meet two friends and colleagues, Dr. Fritz Sarasin and Dr. Jean Roux, who were coming to New Caledonia in order to pursue studies similar to mine. The time I spent with them was rich in interest and encouragement, and in March I returned to the New Hebrides with renewed energy.
Chapter XI
Ambrym
It was a miserable little boat in which I sailed from Nouméa. We were to have started on a Monday, but it was Friday before we got off. The boat was overloaded. On deck there was a quantity of timber, also cattle, pigs, sheep and calves, all very seasick and uncomfortable. The deck was almost on a level with the water, and even while still inside the reef occasional waves broke over the gunwale and flooded the ship. At nightfall we entered the open ocean. Now the waves began to pour on to the deck from all sides, and the bow of the vessel dived into the sea as if it were never going to rise again. The night was dark, shreds of cloud raced across a steel-grey sky, while a greenish patch showed the position of the moon. At the horizon glistened an uncertain light, but the sea was a black abyss, out of which the phosphorescent waves appeared suddenly, rolled swiftly nearer and broke over the ship as if poured down from above.