“Next morning, the 17th, he rose quite well. He slept well the night before from having taken a dose of laudanum. He also gave some to me, as I had been ill all the day, having slept little for two or three nights.... Two men helped Mr. Paton to his bedside, as I found him lying very low in fever, yet he waited on Mr. Johnston affectionately. For some time, while he was in Mr. Paton’s hands, I could scarcely keep myself up at all. We thought it was from the laudanum I had taken. I had to throw myself down every few minutes.... For some weeks after, I was almost constantly bedfast. I ate little; still I felt no pain, but very stupid.... At times, we have services with the Natives. For a week past, we have scarcely gone to bed without fears. One night, our house was surrounded with crowds of armed men, ready at any moment to break in upon us for our lives. We have had to sit in the house for days past, with the doors locked, to prevent any of the savages from entering; for every party seems to be united against us now. The great sickness that prevails amongst them is the cause of this rage. They say, we made the disease, and we must be killed for it; that they never died off in this way before the religion came amongst them, etc., etc.”
Mrs. Johnston recovered gradually, returned by the first opportunity to Aneityum, and for nearly three years taught the girls’ School at Dr. Geddie’s Station. Thereafter she was married to my dear friend the Rev. Joseph Copeland, and spent with him the remainder of her life on Fotuna, working devotedly in the service of the Mission, seeking the salvation of the Heathen.
The death of Mr. Johnston was a heavy loss. From his landing on Tanna, he appeared to enjoy excellent health, and was always very active, bright, and happy, till after that attack by the savages with their clubs on New Year’s Day. From that night, he never again was the same. He never admitted that he had got a blow, but I fear his nervous system must have been unhinged by the shock and horror of the scene. He was genuinely lamented by all who knew him. Our intercourse on Tanna was very sweet, and I missed him exceedingly. Not lost to me, however; only gone before!
Another tragedy followed, with, however, much of the light of Heaven amid its blackness, in the story of Kowia, a Tannese Chief of the highest rank. Going to Aneityum in youth, he had there become a true Christian. He married an Aneityumese Christian woman, with whom he lived very happily and had two beautiful children. Some time before the measles reached our island, he returned to live with me as a Teacher and to help forward our work on Tanna. He proved himself to be a decided Christian; he was a real Chief amongst them, dignified in his whole conduct, and every way a valuable helper to me. Everything was tried by his own people to induce him to leave me and to renounce the Worship, offering him every honour and bribe in their power. Failing these, they threatened to take away all his lands, and to deprive him of Chieftainship, but he answered,—
“Take all! I shall still stand by Missi and the Worship of Jehovah.”
From threats, they passed to galling insults, all which he bore patiently for Jesu’s sake. But one day, a party of his people came and sold some fowls, and an impudent fellow lifted them after they had been bought and offered to sell them again to me. Kowia shouted,—
“Don’t purchase these, Missi; I have just bought them for you, and paid for them!”
Thereon the fellow began to mock at him. Kowia, gazing round on all present and then on me, rose like a lion awaking out of sleep, and with flashing eyes exclaimed,—
“Missi, they think that because I am now a Christian I have become a coward! a woman! to bear every abuse and insult they can heap upon me. But I will show them for once that I am no coward, that I am still their Chief, and that Christianity does not take away but gives us courage and nerve.”
Springing at one man, he wrenched in a moment the mighty club from his hands, and swinging it in air above his head like a toy, he cried,—