By the side of Mrs Liddiard sat, on low stools, two young girls, whose light complexions contrasted with that of their dark skinned sisters. Though she spoke in the native language, the two English girls understood her perfectly, and appeared to be as attentive as their companions, and anxious to set a good example to the rest. One of them, with black hair, called little Maud, who seemed to be about eleven years old, had a grave expression of countenance; the other, Mrs Liddiard’s daughter Mary, was very like her mother, with light hair and blue eyes, full of animation and intelligence.
On one side of the house the ground sloped away down to a beach seen between the Pandanus and cocoanut trees, of fine white sand fringing a calm lagoon of the deepest blue, beyond which appeared a long line of foaming breakers, ever dashing against a coral reef, which extended parallel with the coast as far as the eye could reach. On the other side rose the steep sides of a range of rocky and picturesque mountains, clothed to their summits with the richest and densest foliage, numberless creepers climbing up the trees, and hanging from branch to branch, while here and there, amid openings of the forest, several sparkling cascades came rushing down from the far off heights, now falling in sheets of glittering foam, now dashing from ledge to ledge, and at length making their way into the lagoon.
Near the girls’ school-house was a building of considerably larger dimensions, and of much greater height, with numerous windows and a porch. It was the mission chapel erected by the native Christians. At a short distance from it was Mr Liddiard’s residence, a neat cottage with a broad verandah in front, partaking more of the European style than any of the other edifices.
Under the shade of the trees were numerous huts, inhabited by the converts, who had left their former homes and gathered round their pastor. Among them was a hut somewhat larger than the rest, which had been built by the zealous native teacher Nanari, who had come from a distant island to bring the glad tidings of salvation to the people; and undaunted by the opposition of the heathens, had long laboured alone, until the arrival of Mr Liddiard, under whom he now acted as catechist and assistant.
Notwithstanding the unceasing exertions and prayers of Nanari, aided by his faithful wife, and of Mr and Mrs Liddiard, comparatively few of the natives had as yet been gathered into Christ’s fold. The greater part of the island was inhabited by fierce heathens, who still carried on frequent wars against each other; and angry with their countrymen for having abandoned the faith of their forefathers, constantly threatened them and the missionaries with destruction.
In spite of the dangers which surrounded him, Mr Liddiard continued dauntlessly to labour to win souls to Christ, knowing well in whom he trusted; and that although it might not be allowed to him while on earth to see the fruit of his toils, yet that a rich harvest would some day be reaped.
The missionary’s life was not an idle one. When not engaged in preaching the gospel or in giving instruction to his converts, he was compelled to work with his hands to obtain his daily food, and he and Nanari, with the young men who had become Christians, were engaged in the taro grounds or in their gardens, attending to the cultivation of the bread-fruit tree, yams, casavas, sweet potatoes, and other vegetables. He had also built his own house, and manufactured his furniture, and had every day some manual work to perform besides being engaged in studying the language and translating the Bible and other works, for the instruction of the natives. Thus, from morning till night, he and his wife were actively employed. Although Mary and little Maud could now give them some assistance in household matters, the young girls themselves required instruction, which also occupied a portion of their time. Maud was not their own child, though they had educated her, for she was friendless and destitute, and they loved her as a daughter.
To return to the school-house I have described. I should say that I was the Mary I have mentioned, the missionary’s daughter. I will tell more about little Maud by-and-by. We used to act as assistant teachers to my mother. As soon as the address she had given was over we went among the girls to answer any questions they might put to us, or to help in their tasks.
“Malay,” said a girl at the further end of the room, near whom I had seated myself (‘Malay’ was the name the natives always called me). “I wish to know if your God always sees you.”
“Yes, indeed, He does,” I answered. “He sees and knows everything I think and say and do.”