We touched at Port Sandwich, and then steamed along the coast of Malekula, calling every few miles at some plantation to discharge goods, horses, cattle and fowls, and take on maize or coprah. At last we arrived at Dip Point, Ambrym, where I was kindly received by Dr. B. of the Presbyterian Mission, who is in charge of the fine large hospital there. Its situation is not more picturesque than others, but the place has been made so attractive that one can hardly imagine a more lovely and restful sight. The buildings stand on level ground that slopes softly down to the beach. The bush has been cleared, with the exception of a number of gigantic fig trees, that overshadow a green lawn. Under their airy roof there is always a light breeze, blowing from the hills down to the sea. In the blue distance rises Aoba, and the long-drawn coast of Malekula disappears in the mist. A quieter, sweeter place for convalescents does not exist, and even the native patients, who are not, as a rule, great lovers of scenery, like to lie under the trees with their bandaged limbs and heads, staring dreamily into the green and blue and sunny world.
Dr. B. is an excellent surgeon, famous all over the group, not only among the white population, but among the natives as well, who are beginning to appreciate his work. Formerly they used to demand payment for letting him operate on them, but now many come of their own accord, so that the hospital never lacks patients. The good that Dr. B. does these people can hardly be overrated, and the Presbyterian Mission deserves great credit for having established the hospital; but it is a regrettable fact that all these efforts are not strong enough to counteract other effects of civilization, such as alcoholism, which is the curse of the native race, especially on Ambrym.
Although the sale of alcohol to natives is strictly prohibited by the laws of the Condominium, the French pay no attention to these rules, and sell it in quantities without being called to account. The sale of liquor is the simplest means of acquiring wealth, as the profit on one bottle may amount to five shillings. The natives of Ambrym spend all their money on drink, and as they are quite rich and buy wholesale, the results, in money for the trader and in death for the native, are considerable. For they drink in a senseless way, simply pouring down one bottle after the other, until they are quite overcome. Some never wake up again; others have dangerous attacks of indigestion from the poison they have consumed; still more catch colds or pneumonia from lying drunk on the ground all night. Quarrels and fights are frequent, and it is not a rare sight to see a whole village, men, women and children, rolling on the sand completely intoxicated. The degeneration which results from this is all the sadder, as originally the race on Ambrym was particularly healthy, vigorous and energetic. These conditions are well known to both governments, and might be suppressed on the French side as easily as they are on the English; but the French government seems to take more interest in the welfare of an ex-convict than in that of the native race, although the latter is one of the most important sources of wealth on the islands, setting aside all considerations of humanity. If the liquor traffic is not speedily suppressed, the population is doomed.
Ambrym offers quite a different aspect from the coral islands, as its sloping sides are seamed by streams of lava, the course of which may be traced by the breaks in the forest, as the glowing mass flows slowly down to the coast, congealing in the water to peculiarly shaped jagged rocks. Every few hundred yards we find one of these black walls on the shore in which the sea foams, and the sand that covers the beaches is black too. In dull weather all this looks extremely gloomy, monotonous and imposing—the war of two elements, fire and water; and this dark, stern landscape is far more impressive than the gay, smiling coral beach with the quiet blue sea.
My stay on Ambrym was very pleasant. By the help of Dr. B., I was enabled to find four bright boys, willing and cheerful, with whom I used to start out from Dip Point in the mornings, visit the neighbouring villages, and return loaded with objects of all sorts at noon; the afternoons were devoted to work in the house. The weather was exceptionally favourable, and the walks through the dewy forest, on the soft paths of black volcanic dust, in the cool, dark ravines, with occasional short climbs and delightful glimpses of the coast, were almost too enjoyable to be regarded as a serious duty.
The culture of Ambrym is similar to that of Malekula, as is plainly shown by the natives’ dress. The men wear the bark belt and the nambas, which they buy on Malekula; the dress of the women is the same as that worn in central Malekula, and consists of an apron of pandanus or some similar fibre, wound several times round the waist; this forms a thick roll, not unlike ballet skirts, but more graceful. It is a pretty dress, though somewhat scanty, and the “skirts” flap up and down coquettishly when the wearer walks. The other parts of the body are covered with a thick layer of soot, filth, oil, fat and smoke, for the Ambrymese are not at all fond of bathing.
The villages are open, rarely surrounded by a hedge. The houses are rather close together, grouped irregularly in a clearing; a little apart, on a square by themselves, are the houses of the secret societies, surrounded by images and large drums. The dwelling-houses are rather poor-looking huts, with low walls and roofs and an exceedingly small entrance which is only to be passed through on one’s hands and knees. Decency demands that the women should always enter the houses backward, and this occasions funny sights, as they look out of their huts like so many dogs from their kennels.
As a rule, the first event on my entering a village was that the women and children ran away shrieking and howling; those not quite so near me stared suspiciously, then retired slowly or began to giggle. Then a few men would appear, quite accidentally, of course, and some curious boys followed. My servants gave information as to my person and purpose, and huge laughter was the result: they always thought me perfectly mad. However, they admired me from all sides, and asked all sorts of questions of my boys: what was my name, where did I live, was I kind, was I rich, what did I have to eat, did I smoke or drink, how many shirts and trousers did I have, how many guns and what kinds, etc. The end of it was, that they either took me for a dangerous sorcerer, and withdrew in fear, or for a fool to be got the better of. In the latter case, they would run eagerly to their houses and bring out some old broken article to offer for sale. A few sarcastic remarks proved useful; but it was always some time before they realized what I wanted. The fine old possessions from which they did not like to part would suddenly turn out to be the property of someone else, which was a polite way of saying, “we have that, but you won’t get it.”
In this way collecting was a very tiresome and often disappointing process of bargaining, encouraging, begging and flattering; often, just as I was going away, some man or other would call me aside to say that he had decided to sell after all, and was ready to accept any price.
Horror and silent consternation were aroused when I asked for skulls. “Lots over there,” they said, pointing to an enclosed thicket, their burying-ground. Only very rarely a man would bring me a skull, at the end of a long stick. Once I started on the quest myself, armed with a shovel and spade; as my servants were too much afraid of the dead to help, I had to dig for myself. A man loafed near by, attracted by the excited chatter of some old women. He told me sadly that I was digging up his papa, although it was a woman; then he began to help with some show of interest, assuring me that his papa had two legs, whereas at first I could find but one. A stranger had given me permission to dig, so as to play a trick on the son; but the latter was quite reconciled when I paid him well. For a week all the village talked of nothing but the white madman who dug up bones; I became a celebrity, and people made excursions from a distance to come and stare at me.