Chapter XIV
Loloway—Malo—The Banks Islands
Having traversed the western part of the island, I sailed to Loloway, near the eastern point, one of the loveliest spots in the archipelago. Lofty cliffs flank two sides of a round bay; at the entrance a barrier-reef breaks the swell, which glides in a soft undulation over the quiet water, splashing up on the sandy beach. All around is the forest, hanging in shadowy bowers over the water, and hardly a breeze is astir. The white whale-boat of the Anglican missionary floats motionless on the green mirror; sometimes a fish leaps up, or a pigeon calls from the woods. In the curve of the bay the shore rises in two terraces; on the lower lies the Anglican missionary’s house, just opposite the entrance. In the evening the sun sets between the cliffs, and pours a stream of the purest gold through the narrow gap. It is a pity this fairy spot is so rarely inhabited; Melanesian missionaries are not often at home, being constantly on the road, or at work in the native villages. Mr. G., too, was on the point of departure, and agreed to take me with him on his trip.
In his alarmingly leaky boat we sailed westward, two boys baling all the time. We ran into a small anchorage, pulled the boat ashore, and marched off inland. The people I found here were similar to those in the west, except that they had developed certain arts to a greater degree of perfection, particularly mat-braiding and tattooing. The braiding is done by a method very similar to that in vogue on Pentecoste. The tattooing is mostly done by women and on women; but the men, especially the high castes, often have a beautifully designed sicca leaf running from the chest towards one shoulder, which probably has some religious significance. The women often have their whole body, arms and legs, covered with tattooing, as if with fine lace. The operation is done bit by bit, some one part being treated every few days. The colour used is the rosin of a nut-tree precipitated on a cool stone and mixed with the juice of a plant; the pattern is drawn on the skin with a stick, and then traced with the tattooing-needle. This consists of three orange thorns, tied at right angles to a stick. The needles are guided along the design with the left hand, while the right keeps striking the handle softly with a light stick, to drive the needles into the skin. This is kept up until a distinct outline is produced; the operation is not very painful. The skin is then washed and rubbed with a certain juice, which evidently acts as a disinfectant; at least I never saw any inflammation consequent on tattooing. During the next few days some of the dye works out and falls off with the dry crust that forms on the wound, leaving the tattooing a little paler. The patterns are rather complicated, and at the present day there are no recognizable representations of real objects; yet there seems no doubt that at one time all the designs represented some real thing. They are carefully adapted to the body, and accentuate its structure. The women who do the tattooing are well paid, so that only the wealthy can afford to have their wives and daughters tattooed all over; and naturally a tattooed woman brings a higher price in the matrimonial market than a “plain” one.
TATTOOING ON AOBA.
In this same place I had occasion to observe an interesting zoological phenomenon, the appearance of the palolo-worm, which occurs almost all over the Pacific once a year, at a certain date after the October full moon. The natives know the date exactly, which proves the accuracy of their chronology. The palolo is a favourite delicacy, and they never fail to fish for it. We went down to the shore on the first night; there were not many worms as yet, but the next evening the water was full of the greenish and brownish threads, wriggling about helplessly. Each village had its traditional fishing-ground, and we could see the different fires all along the coast. The worms were gathered by hand and thrown into baskets, and after midnight we went home with a rich harvest. The palolo is mixed with pudding, and said to taste like fish; I am not in a position to pronounce an opinion.
I returned to Nabutriki, and thence to Malo, where Mr. W. informed me that the Burns-Philp steamer had already passed, and asked me to stay with him and his kind family until I should find an opportunity to cross. I accepted all the more gladly, as this part of Malo was still quite unknown to me. The population I found here is probably identical with that which formerly inhabited the south shore of Santo. This was interesting to me because of certain scientific details, though on the whole the life was much the same as elsewhere in Melanesia, with the Suque, etc. I collected a number of charms and amulets, which the people sold willingly, as they no longer believed in their power. Formerly, they were supposed to be useful for poisoning, as love-charms, or for help in collecting many tusked pigs.
I also visited the neighbouring islands, and heard the gruesome story of how the last village on Aoré disappeared. The Aoré people were for ever at war with those of South Santo, across the Segond Channel. The men of Aoré were about sixty strong, and one day they attacked a Santo village. Everyone fled except one man, who was helpless from disease. He was killed and eaten up, and in consequence of this meal thirty out of the sixty men from Aoré died. The others dispersed among the villages of Malo. In Aoré, I had the rare sensation of witnessing an earthquake below the surface. I was exploring a deep cave in the coral banks when I heard the well-known rumbling, felt the shock, and heard some great stalactites fall from the ceiling. This accumulation of effects seemed then to me a little theatrical and exaggerated.
The next steamer took me to the Banks Islands, and I went ashore at Port Patterson on Venua Lava. Here were the headquarters of a rubber planting company; but the rubber trees had not grown well, and the company had started cocoa-nuts. I had met Mr. Ch., the director, before, and he took me in. The company owned a motor-launch, which cruised all through the Banks Islands, visiting the different plantations; this gave me a good opportunity to see nearly all the islands. The sea is much more dangerous here than in the New Hebrides, being open everywhere; and the strong currents cause heavy tide rips at the points of the jagged coasts.