Everyone, however, seemed to take particular pleasure in talking to the Germans about the yacht and her movements, in a way which to me was more amusing than reassuring. As a scientific ship, she theoretically shared with Red Cross vessels immunity under the Hague Convention, but even in those days, as will have been seen, that did not bring complete confidence. One of the German officers had, I was told, given it as his opinion that his Captain would not touch her, but “it was,” he remarked, “a matter for individual judgment, and other commanders might act differently.” The same officer expressed his surprise that the Manager had ventured on the cruiser, as he “might have been made a prisoner, as a German had been on a French ship”; whereupon Mr. Edmunds naturally resolved not to accept an informal invitation to attend theatricals to be held on board on Christmas Eve.
The reason for the occupation of the crew soon became obvious. The warship went out on the following morning and returned with a French barque, the Jean, which she had captured some time before, and which, being laden with coal, she had towed most of the way to the island. She laid the barque alongside her in Cook’s Bay and proceeded to hoist out the cargo (fig. 24), finally shooting away the masts and spars in order that the French ship might not capsize as she gradually lost her ballast.
The cruiser, it transpired, had also on board it the crew of an English sailing ship, the Kildalton, which she had captured and sunk near the Horn; but when an attempt was made to speak to the men, they were ordered below. The German officers and crew then landed daily, rode over the island, came up to the Manager’s house, and generally behaved as if the whole place belonged to them. The officers were courteous and always saluted when we met, an attention with which one would have preferred to dispense; one of the crew penetrated to our kitchen, which he was at once requested to leave, in spite of Bailey’s evident fear that he and I would immediately be ordered out for execution; the man hesitated, looked astonished, but obeyed. It must be remembered that there was no reason to suppose that it was otherwise than civilised warfare, the idea that anyone could or would injure non-combatants on neutral soil never seriously occurred to me: the story of Belgium was unknown.
Indignation was, however, roused by the fact that the Germans were remaining far beyond the twenty-four hours to which they were entitled in a neutral port, and obviously again using the island as a base. It grew to fever-heat when news came that a signal-station had been erected on Rano Aroi, the high central point, with an officer and men in charge, from which notice might be given to the cruiser below if an “enemy” ship was sighted. I took Juan, the headman of the village who was our usual escort, rode up to the point in question, and thus verified the fact of the station and men on watch. I remained at a short distance, but Juan went on and spoke to the Germans; he came back to me saying impressively, “They do not like to see you here,” to which sentiment the reply naturally was “I dislike still more to see them.” Never would the white ensign have been more welcome! To relieve my feelings, although with a sense of futility, I wrote a formal protest, under the grandiloquent title of “Acting Head of the British Scientific Expedition,” pointing out for the benefit of the Chilean Government these abuses of neutrality. The schoolmaster had been, since his arrival, the formal representative of his country, and I went down to the village to give it to him; its presentation was delayed by his having gone on board the cruiser, for the Christmas theatricals, where he remained over the next day, but it was finally handed to him.
On New Year’s Eve I was coming in from a business ride about 1 o’clock, and, having breakfasted at 6, was feeling not a little hungry, when the German ship was seen steaming from her anchorage, looking as she did so like a great blot on the radiant sea. The first impression was that she was leaving the island, but on observing more closely, her errand was apparent; she was not alone, but had the graceful little barque with her, towing her side by side in a last Judas embrace. Naturally, one could go no farther, and for two and a half hours a little company, including the crew of the doomed ship, who had just been landed, sat spell-bound on the cliff watching the tragedy. When the cruiser had gone a short distance, but well within the three-mile limit, she cast the French vessel adrift, the small craft rolled helplessly, high out of the water, without ballast or cargo, and with only a mizzen-mast remaining. The warship then swooped round in great circles like an evil bird of prey, and every time that she came broadside on she fired at her victim. The first shot missed; the second went through the upper part of the barque into the sea the other side. The third shot obviously told, but the executioner fired once again and then ceased, satisfied with her work, for the little ship could be seen gradually regaining her water-line, though with an ominous list, and a ballast never designed by the builder. As she sank she drifted slowly southward, at the mercy of wind and current. The cruiser moved with her, keeping at an even distance and steadily watching her victim till suddenly the end came, and where there had been two vessels on the blue sea only one remained. Another gallant ship had joined the company of ghosts in the ocean Hades below.
When she had thus accomplished her work, the Eitel Friedrich departed, having taken on board stores, which would, she stated, with those already in hand, last her till the following April. She kept her prisoners on board till almost the last, in order to serve, it was said, as hostages should a British warship appear, and then deposited them all on shore. Our feelings on thus finding our island invaded, resembled, in some measure, the classical ones of Robinson Crusoe on a somewhat similar occasion; the new-comers consisted of the captains and crews of both the English and French ships, forty-eight persons in all. They had been well treated on the cruiser, and were given on landing the remaining stores out of the sunken barque. A camp was made for them in the wool-shed, near the landing-place at Hanga Piko, and formed a great attraction to the natives who flocked there hourly to see what could be picked up. A room was found for the captain of the English ship in the Manager’s house, where he made a pleasant addition to the party. The charms of Easter Island did not appeal to him, and he was naturally concerned for the anxiety which would be felt at home when his ship was reported “missing.” His great occupation was to walk, many times a day, to the top of the knoll behind my tent, to try to catch sight of a sail, a hope which those of us who were better acquainted with the island felt to be somewhat forlorn.
Unfortunately, the epidemic of dysentery which had prevailed in the island since the previous October, laid low some of the sailors. This was a serious anxiety, as there was no doctor of any kind, and the only medical stores and books were those of the Expedition, which had to be routed out from our camp at the other end of the island. One young Englishman, named Campbell, to our great regret, succumbed to the disease; he was “the only son of his mother, and she was a widow”; a little white cross in the Easter Island burial-ground makes yet another memorial of the Great War. Captain Sharp’s persistent look-out was rewarded sooner than might have been expected; false hopes were raised by a vessel which went on without waiting, but when the marooned men had been with us some two months, a Swedish steamer appeared. She had come out of her way attracted by the fame of the antiquities, and it was a pleasure to show one or two of the officers what little could be seen of those statues near Cook’s Bay. She kindly took on board the English crew and the greater part of the Frenchmen, but a few of the latter preferred to remain, on the ground that they had “sent word to the French Consul at Valparaiso, and must await his directions.” It was said that, prior to leaving the Eitel Friedrich, they had signed an undertaking never to bear arms against Germany, and they were consequently not anxious to find themselves again in France, where their position might be invidious. One of them, who hailed from the French West Indies, subsequently married his hostess, a lady in the village. The wedding was celebrated in the church and largely attended; during a great part of the service the couple sat on a low form before the altar, with the arm of the bridegroom round the waist of the bride; the ceremony was followed by a sumptuous and decorous repast.
Such an excitement as the German visit had of course upset my grown-up children, but we gradually resumed our talks. The ways, means, and result of those conversations will come more appropriately under the heading of the scientific work. It took, as a rule, about the same number of hours to copy out the rough notes of an interview as to get the substance; if, therefore, the morning had been given to talk, the afternoon was spent in writing. It soon became obvious that it was going to be a race against time to get all the information available before Mana returned, especially as the interviews involved a certain amount of strain, and it was better, in the interests of all, to diversify them with topographical and other work. In this sense every day was prized which the yacht delayed her return, and there was little opportunity for feeling lonely, at any rate during working hours. The time, however, began to grow long. January changed into February, and February turned into March, and there was still no news of her; everyone began to inquire if I were “not becoming very anxious,” in a manner which was truly reassuring. And now, in approved fashion, we will turn and see what was happening to the other part of the Expedition.
After leaving the Raraku camp S. had ridden in to Cook’s Bay, and there had difficulties about getting on board, for the Kanakas had made one bargain for the use of their boat, and then wanted double; during the delay rain came on, and he was obliged to shelter himself and his goods in the native boathouse by the landing. He at length, however, reached the ship, where the captain gave him his own cabin under the bridge. At tea-time the first officer, who was of German nationality, came out of his cabin and conversed in such a way that it was obvious that he was not altogether sober; the captain soon came along, rated him for drinking, told him the curse of the sea was alcohol, and he was to go at once on deck. Upon which the mate ascended to the bridge, groaning deeply. Now the said captain had, unfortunately, on board sixteen cases of whisky, which he had brought to trade at Easter, but which Mr. Edmunds had not allowed him to land. He himself shortly began to drink steadily, and went on till delirium tremens supervened, and he became obsessed with the idea that there was an affray going on between the sailors and stewards. By the arrangement of the vessel, the crew were berthed for’ard and the stewards aft, while the waist of the ship was filled by a stack of coal, which had been left on deck, to save the trouble of stowing it in the bunkers, and in the pious hope that no bad weather would supervene. On the top of this coal the captain now took his stand, declared that he would have no fighting on his ship, and hurled pieces of coal first at an imaginary crew for’ard and then at supposititious stewards aft; though all hands were in reality carefully lying low to keep out of his way.
S., meanwhile, was unfortunately confined to his cabin, having gone down, about the second day out, with a very severe attack of dysentery; the epidemic on the island had never reached our camp; he had presumably contracted it during the delay in starting. His position was anything but enviable: there was no steward, only a cabin-boy, well-meaning, but languid and very dirty. He could get no food which he could take, and lay there helpless with the rats eating his clothes; if it had not been for the kindness of the chief engineer, who looked in occasionally, it seems doubtful if he would have lived to reach Chile. To this pleasing state was now added the apprehension that the captain, who was wandering about by day and night, might at any moment attack him for being in the cabin, in anticipation of which event S. kept a loaded revolver under his pillow. At last things got to such a state that the chief engineer came and asked his advice on the desirability of screwing up the skipper, Oxford fashion, and passing his food through the port. Before, however, this step could be taken, the offender had reached the stage of mental collapse, melted into tears and spent his time in protracted prayers, beseeching the engineer to put the accursed stuff overboard. S. naturally advised taking him at his word, when it was found that he had been drinking at the rate of nearly three bottles a day.