The above sad intelligence reached Port Moresby at early morn of the 11th, just as the Harriet was about to leave for Thursday Island, and the Mayri about to take me to Hula, whilst a party of foreigners were leaving for the East End. The news, of course, upset all arrangements, and, after the first moments of excitement were over, our next concern was about the safety of the two Aroma teachers. With as little delay as possible, but with groundless forebodings of coming evil, a large party of us left for Aroma. About ten a.m. of the 14th, we reached there, and whilst our three boats lay off a little, so as not to arouse suspicion, a teacher and myself went ashore. With devout gratitude I heard that both teachers and natives were ignorant of the massacre. In less than an hour the two teachers and their families were safely ensconced in their whale-boat, taking along with them but a minimum of their property, according to the orders given. By these means the chiefs and natives
of Aroma were left in utter ignorance as to the cause of our erratic movements, nor did they seem to suspect anything.
At Kerepunu we experienced considerable noise and worry. Here, too, we judged it prudent to remove very little belonging to the deceased teacher. At Hula, my house had been entered, but the few things stolen were mostly returned. Here, too, we have left goods, until some definite course be decided upon. Strange to say, at Hula, where we expected the least trouble and danger, there we had the greatest; indeed, on one or two occasions, affairs assumed a rather serious aspect. The main idea present in the native mind was to take advantage of us in our weakness and sorrow. After a very brief stay at Hula, we left there on the 15th, reaching Port Moresby the following day; and on the 17th I left for Thursday Island.
The natives of Hood Bay attribute this massacre to the influence of Koapina, the Aroma chief, he having assured the Kalo people that foreigners might be massacred with impunity, citing as an illustration the massacre at Aroma last July, and pointing out at the same time the great fame that had thereby accrued to his own people. The Kalo people have not been slow in acting upon his advice. I visited Hula and Kerepunu within six weeks of the massacre, and was so impressed with the peaceful bearing of the people in both places that I should have been glad to have re-occupied both stations immediately.
I should have visited Kalo, but was afraid of compromising the mission, as it is possible the natives may be punished for the outrage. I fear we are not altogether free from blame; the teachers are often very indiscreet in their dealings with the natives, and not over-careful in what they say; there has also, perhaps, sometimes been a niggard regard to expense on our part. A very few pounds spent at a station like Kalo in the first years would, I believe, prevent much trouble, and probably murder. The Kalo natives felt that Hula and Kerepunu got the most tobacco and tomahawks, and that their share was small indeed. Instead of our buying all the thatch required for the other stations—only obtainable at Kalo—we got the teachers, with their boys, to get it. We meant it well, to save expense. My experience teaches me to throw all I can in the way of natives not connected with our head station. At this station—Port Moresby—for the next few years the expenses will be considerable in buildings, laying out the land, and in presents to the constant stream of visitors; but it will have a Christianizing and a civilizing effect upon a large extent of country.
On the 24th of May, 1881, left Port Moresby in the Mayri, and, having taken on board four natives at Boera, continued a westerly course, anchoring next day in Hall Sound, opposite Delena. Early on the morning of May 26th, Kone and Lavao, our old friends, came off. They say it is useless going to
Maiva, as we cannot land; but we can go and see for ourselves, and they will accompany us. I had to land to eat pigs, i.e., receive pigs and hand them over to my followers. On landing, they led me up the hill at the back of village, where I was astonished to find a fine tract of land forming a splendid position for a house. Kone at once offered me as much land as I wanted. After thinking it over on board, I decided on building. I landed tents, and pitched them on the rise above the village. My experience is that places quite exposed to south-east wind are more unhealthy than swampy country. On Rarotonga there were more deaths on the windward side of the island than on the leeward.
On the Sunday after landing, we went down and had service in the village. Kone interpreted into Lolo. When telling the people we had no work for them on Sunday, Kone said: “Oh! we know, and we, too, are going to be helaka (sacred) to-morrow.” I asked him, “Come, Kone, how do you know?” “From Boera.” I met a lad repeating the Lord’s Prayer in Motu, and found he had been taught by Piri. The Motu tribe has already had great influence, and will have more and more every year. I have an interesting class of children, and hope, before we leave, they will know their letters well.
What nonsense one could write of the reception here—such as “Everybody at service this morning listened attentively; commented on address or conversation;