Nearly every man has been out on the mountain today in search of molly eggs. Only one egg is found in a nest, and yet Glass on Saturday got one hundred and sixty-two. In time, I fear, these beautiful birds will be driven from the island.
Saturday, October 5.—I spent the morning gardening and in the afternon went to meet Graham, who with John Glass and his wife, Johnny Lavarello, Maria Green and Mary Repetto had been to the ponds. They had thoroughly enjoyed the day, the children especially, as they had not been there before. All, except Graham, were laden with molly eggs stowed away in their shirt or blouse which is sewn into a pouch for the occasion, a mode of carrying which gave them a very comical appearance. The birds are quite tame, only giving a peck when pushed off the nest.
Tuesday, October 8.—We are having a week's holiday. Yesterday morning I said to little Ned Green, "Boys in England wash their neck, arms and chest every day. You come one morning and Mr. Barrow will show you how to do the same." He turned away his head and said, "I'm skeered." This morning before we were up he was waiting in the porch, and then came in and sat on the sofa until Graham was ready for him. As it was rather a wet morning the instructions were given indoors. I heard most lively conversation going on during the process. He was rewarded with a biscuit which he took home to his little sister.
Idioms are little used here. I said yesterday to Ned, who was minding some goslings, "You have got your hands full," when I saw him look down and open his hand. The goslings are as much trouble to raise here as turkeys are at home. They have, at first, to be watched all day long for fear of their getting wet, and then there is always the danger of their being carried away by the stream. If it rains they are often driven into the sitting-room. Geese and eggs are the women's chief contributions to trade.
Mrs. H. Green has not been so well again. I went up today to try to get her to come to dinner. She did not want to, but I said I was not going without her. This amused her and at last she got up and went to put her things on, though she said she was so weak she could hardly walk. When I was sitting alone with her she told me that a few months ago something had been said to her which she could not get off her mind. She has a strong superstition about it. The people here believe that a person has the power to will evil to others. A man who has been to the Cape told us one evening that he was quite sure that the Malays had the power to make a person lame by putting something on the doorstep, and that no one could effect a cure except a Malay doctor.
CHAPTER XXIII
Wednesday, October 9.—We were aroused from our slumbers this morning by Charlie Green hammering at the door, and on inquiry heard there was a ship in sight. It was a most beautiful day and the sea like a mill-pond. The men said before they started they were sure the ship was a whaler; and they were right. The people, expecting visitors, set to work to scrub their floors. In the course of the morning the first mate, a coloured man, landed with a mail from St. Helena. There were only three letters in it. One was from the Bishop. There seems now no prospect of his coming while we are here. Our men only did fairly well on the whaler, which, however, was well supplied with potatoes, having taken in a supply at St. Helena only seventeen days ago. The captain and his wife kindly sent us a bunch of bananas and a large tin of grape-nuts.
Thursday, October 10.—This afternoon we took the Repetto girls, Maria and Sophy, who are staying with us, for a picnic. We made for a grassy slope near Bugsby Hole, the children gathering sticks for the fire as we went. They came upon a poor little lamb that had just been killed by a sea-hen. Near it was another which a sea-hen was just pouncing upon. They had been deserted by the mother, a thing which often happens here. The children picked up the lamb, which could hardly have been a day old, and we wrapped it in my jacket and gave it some warm milk. It was decided that Mary should be the happy possessor of it. As we were at tea three rats were unearthed. One, a big fellow, sprang down close to us. There were shrieks from the children and the tea was upset, but Rob soon caught him.
Friday, October 11.—The lamb died this morning. Repetto says it was famished before we found it.
Monday, October 14.—Quite a bitter day. Hail has been falling. Susan Repetto, who lives with her Aunt Betty Cotton, is with us this week. She has a wonderful crop of curly hair which, except on Sundays when her mother wets and curls it, is done up in a tight little knob. She is quick and full of fun, laughing more than any child on the island.