Our kodaks perpetuate the little church for us and we leave it with no regret, for it does not engender the most pleasant of thoughts. When we return to camp, we find that our intermediary, Intelligence, has arranged for the conference earlier than was expected, and that the others are ready to gather at our pleasure. There is no time like the present, so we tell him to summon his clan that we may start the powwow.
We place our chairs under the shade of the fly at the rear of our tent and soon the older men begin to drift toward us. They seat themselves in a semicircle facing us and at a distance of ten or fifteen feet. When all are seated, Intelligence begins a long harangue,—a torrent of words which fall from his lips so fast that they are wholly unintelligible to us. His discourse is received coldly by some of his fellows, but one or two—those who have seemed most friendly to us—take kindly to our plan, judging from the expression on their faces.
A hot debate ensues. After several hours of earnest palaver in which we take no part, Intelligence turns to us and signifies that he would like us to speak on the subject. This we do, assuring them that the Dutch Government has no part in our plan, and that if they will deliver the bones of the Swiss to us we will guarantee that no punishment whatever shall befall the members of the community. We draw as vivid a picture of the scientist’s grieving relatives as is possible with our limited vocabulary, and at length prevail upon the savage assembly to promise to bring the poor man’s bones to camp upon the morrow.
The deserted Jesuit mission which formerly was the pride and hope of its unfortunate builder
In the early evening the women sit around on the copra-drying platforms and watch the sunset
Our apparent victory, has not, however, been achieved without the exchange of some very black looks among several of the Kia Kias. There are still a few who remain firm in their belief that this is some trick of the white man’s to make them incriminate themselves. Upon the decision of the majority to hand over the remains to the white men, the meeting breaks up and all but Intelligence leave for their respective quarters. He lingers to tell us that he, himself, will bring the bones in to-morrow afternoon. So grateful are we that we present him with a shiny trade hatchet and an American trench mirror. He departs with many thanks.
The request we have made has caused a stir in the kampong and the accustomed afternoon meeting in the shade of the grove back of the village does not take place. A few of the younger people gather there for their usual enjoyment of one another’s society, but the elders are all grouped about their doorways, earnestly discussing something. Now and then speculative glances in our direction tell us that we are the chief topic of conversation. Moh is distinctly uneasy.
In the very outer fringe of the grove, and directly back of our tent, there is a little knot of young men and women who are apparently very much interested in something which is screened from our view by the intervening bodies of the watchers. We do not wish to miss anything unusual, so we hasten over to see what is taking place. From the extreme absorption of the onlookers and the absence of the laughter and gaiety which usually attend these gatherings we know that something of moment is under way.