Chapter IV: Part 4

_Monday, August 16th._--The night was made perfectly hideous by the howling of the fiendish curs which are dignified with the name of dogs, the squealing of hungry swine, and the cackling of a poor forlorn goose whose kith and kin have left her a solitary representative of her species, and who seems to find her only solace in sitting outside my door and calling to her lost companions. The dogs are simply a pest to the place, they keep up their incessant bark all the day long, and all night they howl and prowl around. They are hideously ugly, undersized creatures, and are the more loathsome because they are the acknowledged scavengers of the place. They are not worthy to be called dogs, and any one except he was assured of the fact, would scarcely believe that they were dogs. They are supposed to be useful in catching wild pigs, but from their appearance you would fancy that it must be a poor specimen of a pig they would dare to tackle. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and all these sounds rending the still night air simultaneously drove sleep from my eyes, and produced such inward irritation and disgust that if a thought could have killed the lot, none of them would have troubled the world again with their noises. A most glorious morning enticed me up very early, and certainly the early dawn was very fresh and beautiful. We had Prayers very soon after daylight and even then the blue bottles had collected in great numbers and were by no means a help to devotion. These pests spring into existence at once as soon as any number of human bodies are congregated together, and are particularly active in church and school. The idea of them apart from their propensities is very nasty and disgusting, and when in a country like this without the concomitants of devotion, one wants all the solemnity one can possibly obtain, their presence and irritation are the more odious and nauseating.

To-day, according to custom, we kept the Christening Feast of the children who were Baptized last night. The parents of the children gave a most beautiful pig, and the women attended to the cooking, the men dispersing in many directions each in quest of his own business or pleasure. I went with a party to Ruosi where we bathed, and got back in time for the opening of the ovens, and the division of the feast. I said grace and then each one partook of his or her share of the plentiful repast, all eating together in the most harmonious fashion, and not as in old days the sexes keeping religiously apart. This middle wall of separation has been almost entirely broken down, and family life and sociability have taken the place of the old seclusion and division. It was a most glorious night but the people were too tired to dance, and we all retired early to our houses. I kept busy till very late writing up arrears of correspondence and reading, and was the last in the village out of bed.

_Tuesday, August 17th._--The most glorious day from earliest morning till now at night, the evening one of the most beautiful I ever saw, when the moon rose it was a most perfect night above and below, the sky studded with myriads of stars and absolutely cloudless, here everything hushed in peaceful slumber, except the restless, ever-singing crickets, whose buzz is continuously kept up by night and day. At the heathen end of the village there was a sort of Irish wake kept up to-day, but there was no “tangi” or any ceremony except a pig being killed, and a great feast being prepared. Formerly, death days were kept with great strictness, and the day of death and the 100th were observed with great festivities. I have seen nothing of the kind now for years, and I fancied the custom had quite died out. It was supposed in old days when the people were still heathen, that the disembodied spirit, after it left its earthly tenement, hung about hungry and restless on the thick creepers in the bush, and on the day of death a great feast was prepared for it, after which it retired to the place of departed spirits called Banoi. This same Banoi is near Tasmouri, but I have never seen it. The idea, I believe, is that when the spirit is at length at rest, its stone is placed in a certain cave or pit there exists there, and the people who have seen the place, tell me that certainly there far inland are smooth seaside stones laid in wonderful regularity, and in old days supposed to be put there by successive spirits in order as they died. Until quite recently, no one ventured into this ghostly place, and it was regarded as eminently sacred. Some day I hope to go there and examine it for myself.

I cannot find out the rationale of the subsequent death days, but they seem to have more to do with the living than the dead, and are supposed to show the departed one that he or she is still kept in faithful and affectionate memory.

In old days everyone was careful to have one good pig at least, in readiness for the day of his death, and any others which he might possess at the time of his departure, his friends were careful to kill in his honour.

They carefully kept the days, principally the tens, I think, and religiously observed the 100th, after which remembrance seemed no longer necessary, but before that, I am afraid, there was a large amount of selfishness about the death days, and more was thought of the living in them than of the dead. The people tell me how strictly these days were kept formerly, they dispensed with their regular ordinary food sometimes for the whole 100 days, and ate only such roots and fruits as grow wild in the bush, religiously abstaining from all garden produce until the full time had expired. Some went even beyond this when a very particular person died, and for the whole 100 days ate only one kind of root, and that the most difficult to obtain, strenuously refusing to partake of food in common with others. I have known a man myself adhere to this rigid, self-imposed abstention, in the case of the death of a son, and of a wife, not here however, but at Opa. A man once came into my house over there, tired and hungry after a long fast and a laborious journey, but he strictly refused a biscuit or other food which I ventured to offer him, and when or where he ate I do not know, for the particular food he had chosen to eat was most rare in the neighbourhood, I doubt even if it was obtainable at all. Yet no privation or distress would force him to break his rule, and eat promiscuously until the proper time had elapsed. In the keeping of their days they are wonderfully accurate, and you seldom find them wrong in their calculations. Their fingers are their ready reckoners, and they have to do a great deal more work than ours in assisting a weak memory, where the use of slate and pencil are unknown. I very often ask people to count over the names of persons in the place or neighbourhood, just to see how clever and correct they are with their numbers. Here the whole ten fingers are used, at Opa only the left hand, five fingers down being five, the first finger up and the rest down six, and so on until all are up which makes ten, then two tens, three tens, up to ten tens or one hundred. In the distribution of food, too, it is wonderful how accurate they are, and it is very rarely that any one is left out of the count. Of course, where the science of numbers is unknown, nature teaches by a more roundabout, but scarcely less accurate process. For all practical purposes and uses, their fingers help them a great deal, indeed almost as far as their requirements go, for their lives are very simple and their ways uncomplicated. The leaves of a certain palm, however, lends them some assistance, especially in the distribution of food, and as the person is seen, or his name thought of, a leaf is broken off, and then the broken leaves are counted. I have never heard of the toes being used as assistants, although one might fancy their being of service.

_Wednesday, August 18th._--About midnight as I lay reading in bed, and a perfect stillness reigned around, we experienced a very sharp shock of an earthquake. My house shook so uncomfortably, that I really feared it was coming down, and I had the sort of feeling as of some one trying to upset it, and I felt as if I must say “Oh! do not, please leave off, you will have it down.” My neighbour’s fence was shaken so, that I fancied some considerable damage had been done. The vibration lasted a good long time, some seconds I should say, after the real shock was over, and I felt myself, a sort of palpitation for some considerable period. I was not afraid, but no one can feel an earthquake without some instinctive dread. Nothing, I think, makes one feel one’s littleness and helplessness and insecurity more, and there is such a solemnity attached to it, that you are very thankful when it is fairly over. Man, bird and beast were roused into action at once, and there was quite an excitement here for a time. Curiously enough, in the evening there was a very bright and exceedingly beautiful after-glow, and I remarked to the boys how like it was to the time when the terrible destruction was caused in the gulf of Sunda, and I said casually, that I should not be surprised if we had more earthquakes soon. The natives have a firm idea that they are the precursors of rain, and certainly this morning we have had a very heavy downpour. This is the first rain we have had for the whole month I have been here, and the first day I have been kept to solitary confinement. Most of the day I have been absolutely alone, and my pen has been kept very busy writing letters and hymns and songs. With the latter I have been very successful, and have managed four. One, particularly successful, goes to the chorus of “Wait till the clouds roll by,” and is as follows:--

Ge togatoga ririkqa.
Mati ni van ra[¨n]ai,
A la[¨n]i ni rowo na wia,
Tavi dago na tasgoro.

Gana sako na usu maraga,
Gana toura na gabe tar,
Gana tura goro na masi
Gana koko betegag.

Gana unui vagamatera
A le[¨n]ele[¨n]e mas
Gana tuwur, sogon le gete
Toli tasgoro rik ka sem.

of which the translation is:--

Wait a little bit longer,
Wait till the tide is low,
Wait till the wind blow fairer,
And then make the tasgoro.

Then we will take bow and arrow,
Then we will carry our nets,
Then we will stop in the fishes
And gather them properly up.

We will kill them dead with poison,
All and every kind of fish,
We will gather and lay them in baskets,
What a glorious tasgoro!

The _tasgoro_ I have before described. Part of beach enclosed, tabu’d, and after lapse of time opened again to the public.

This evening we have sung this chorus with grand effect, and high as I was previously in popular estimation as a poet, I have gone still higher now. What a little thing wins popularity, how little is a thing so easily purchased worth the having! One other song goes very prettily and smoothly to “Home sweet Home,” and is much appreciated. It is, as far as I could adapt it, the reproduction of the English song into Maewo. “Dream Faces” supplied me with another very pretty little song, which runs very well, the theme of which is the “moonlight.” “Our Jack’s come home to-night,” lent me the music of a fourth song, which is peculiarly native in expression, and slightly more comic than the two above mentioned.

The production of this last was received with such peals of laughter, that for a time confusion and merriment took the place of composure and perfect gravity. It would lose its charm and half its meaning if I were to attempt to translate it into English. Here, however, is the Maewo:--

Ta disava qarik Isei ni tau na as?
Eh? Ro[¨n]o lolora va! Ki isei qa ni sawu?
Wa sagoro ta sagoro Ki gida, sem, ta lai ra[¨n]ai!
Ro[¨n]o lolora va! Toli sagoro rik!

Da! ta sagoro da! Ge riri betigag!
Ta sagoro tei rik Ga laia ra[¨n]ai sag!
Kare mawmaw, tei riki vak! Ge wosawosa limamu!
A wula marama! Tolina rik ka sem!

The “Dream Faces” song is as follows:-

Nan ligo asik suri marama, --I’ll make my song about the moonlight, Tolina rik sem a wula marama, --Charming indeed is the light of the moon,

Osoos ti rasu mera na maran, --Darkness has flown, it is light as the day, Non eteete ti lita soun na --His brightness chased the night far away. qo[¨n].

Nan ligo asik suri marama, --I’ll make my song about the moonlight, A[¨n]eisa tea le isi Tamada, --Some day I ween in our great Father’s land,

Ala na maran vagatewa tau, --There day unending for ever will be, Qon tigai ala, moa marama, --Night is unknown there, light only endless.

The light called “marama,” is looked upon by natives as the perfection of light, because it is, I suppose, unaccompanied by the burning heat of the sun. I therefore use it as illustrating better the idea of heaven’s light. Maran is the light of day.

_Thursday, August 19th._--The village was hushed in the stillness of slumber again about midnight, and I was preparing for bed, too, and kneeling down to say my prayers, when another quite sharp earthquake shock was felt, and the sensation came upon me very solemnly and impressively while so engaged. I cannot say why I trembled, but I did, and it was quite instinctive. However, I went to bed and slept profoundly. We have had another slight shock of domestic earthquake here this morning, and Ann, one of our young married women, after rating her husband, started off for Naruru, and we were quite in a ferment here for a short time. However, this evening, her parents went for her, and I have had to give her a scolding. I told her that anger was like a charge of dynamite, it not only exploded itself, but it produced destructive effects far and wide, indeed there was no knowing what the extent of its mischief might be. She seemed penitent, and was utterly ashamed of her unchristian conduct. I am thankful to say that scenes of domestic warfare are uncommon here, and, generally speaking, a great deal of harmony prevails, but of course there are clouds in the most perfect day, and the smoothest ocean is at times ruffled by the sudden breeze. Beyond this, our day has been like most other days, except for the thatching of Peter’s “gamal,” which has brought together a large concourse of people, and has been the occasion of a great festivity this evening. Arthur, Patrick and myself walked down to Ruosi in the afternoon, where we bathed, and returned in the evening. Our evening duties as usual.

_Friday, August 20th._--Certainly we are blessed with the most glorious weather. This morning was simply perfect, and one almost wishes one could keep some of its coolness for the middle of the day, when the heat is very great.

After school and breakfast this morning, some of the people invited me to go with them eel catching. As the performance was new to me, I gladly assented. The scene of the sport lay in the direction of the water fall, and I took my camera, hoping to get a good view of it.

We followed the course of the stream, and waded through the taro gardens, and finally found ourselves in the most advantageous position for a photograph. It ought to be good, after all my efforts to secure the picture, but I could not get far enough away. While I have been writing this, since I began the last sentence, an earthquake shock has shaken the place very perceptibly, and, why I know not, has left a tremour all over me, which I cannot explain. The picture being shot off, I hastened back to where the eel catching was going on. The water was cleverly dammed off above two large pools, and then one pool “teemed” out with buckets. In the first pool nothing was discovered, and the next proceeding was to empty the full pool into the now empty one. This took some time, but it was finally accomplished, and one large eel was captured, the sole occupant of the pool, and the only sport afforded after a long day’s work. Disappointment was depicted on all countenances, and I was rather disgusted too, having expected to see some sport. I comforted myself with a most glorious bathe in the broad flowing river, and hastened home to drown my disappointment in a cup of tea.

After school this evening, I was sitting here alone, when four men came in, in whispers, and shut the door behind them, and when they had sat down, they said, still in the lowest accents, “we wish to see your Eucharistic vessels.” I proceeded to exhibit them, and they seemed quite awe struck. Miss Patteson would have been pleased to have seen how her noble gift was valued and appreciated. The exhibition of the beautiful vessels gave me much food for conversation with these men, and I told them I hoped the day was not far distant when they would be regularly used in the Church here, and they themselves be partakers from them of the Blessed Tokens of Redeeming Love, the bread of the world in mercy broken, the wine of the soul in mercy shed.

_Saturday, August 21st._--General holiday as usual. Nothing of particular importance marked the day, except the visit of three nice fellows from Uta. The British Workman’s Almanac adorns my walls, and they were particularly struck with the picture of Lord Shaftesbury which occupies the centre. Curiously, many others have admired this same picture, why I do not know, except perhaps from its size. I told these visitors all about the late Earl, of his philantrophy and the goodness of his life, and I told them too, of the philantrophy and goodness of a greater than he, “who went about doing, and healing all manner of diseases and sicknesses among the people.” They asked me if I had heard the earthquake of late, to which I responded in the affirmative, and told them of the terrible outburst of volcanic power at Tarawera, and the fearful and alarming results, and I said there was no knowing but it might be our turn next, and we ought to try and be prepared for whatever lay before us. I urged them to fly, while they had the opportunity, to the Higher Rock, for there we should find shelter and protection until the tyranny were overpast, and any such visitation would be but to bring us the quicker to a haven of rest and safety, whither such things never come. They asked me if I could not spare some regular teacher to come and live with them, to teach them the wonderful things of God’s law, and expound more fully to them, the things concerning the Kingdom of God. I promised them a weekly service, but I could do no more just yet.

_Sunday, August 22nd._--A most glorious Sabbath morning. We had school before breakfast, both because it was cooler and also on account of the blue bottle flies, which become very troublesome in the heat of the day, where people are congregated together. Before our school duties were over, they became very numerous, and I was not sorry to get back to the refuge and quiet of my own house. After breakfast we had Morning Prayer, a very nice service, but not rendered more solemn by the presence, in crowds, of those disgusting pests, the flies. However, they are an inevitable worry, from which there seems no chance of escape. After Prayers I went to the Unduna villages, and talked to the few people I found there. They were keeping Sunday, they said, i.e. they were doing no work and were generally idling. I asked why they did not come to Church as formerly, and they said it was too far. I asked why then did not they build a school there, and I would be responsible for the teaching in it. They so far assented as to say that they would see about it, when they had got through with their yam planting. There is a nice little population there, and I have always had it on my conscience that nothing practical or definite had been done for them. Natives do not care to go to the trouble of a few yards more or less for religion, so I suppose the alternative is that religion must go to them. One very nice man called “Vangoro,” was most energetic about the building, in promising to get it done and helping all he could, he is a leading man there too, and I hope my desire will be accomplished.

It was very hot coming back, and I was in a liquid state when I got home. The evening was deliriously cool and fine, and I enjoyed it outside my house with several of the people.

Evensong was a very nice quiet service, and I preached on the subject of the Collect (9th Sunday after Trinity), the “spirit to think and do always such things as were rightful.” I hope I got intelligent attention. We had some nice singing afterwards, and the people went very quietly home.

_Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday._--Blank days.

On Monday there were great festivities here, and a dance till morning. I began to feel ill in the evening, and spent a most wretched night. On Tuesday I was unwell all day, and could do nothing. On Wednesday I was fearfully ill all day with a severe attack of fever and ague, and lay down under all the wraps I could secure, until the hot fit came on with a very severe headache. In the evening the boys surprised me by saying there was a white man outside, and I was glad to welcome Mr. Blackburne, Government agent of the Sybil, from Queensland. The vessel anchored at the watering place, and the boys told him “Missionary he plenty sick.” He therefore very kindly came up and spent the night with me. He has just left me now, and I have not strength to go with him to the ship. However, I am better to-day, and hope after a big dose of Quinine he has given me, that I shall be better.

_Tuesday, August 31st._--I have wasted a whole week, and only to-day feel equal to doing anything or going anywhere. To-day for the first time for a week, I have moved out of the village boundaries, and have been to the river with the boys and bathed.

It has been a sickly time here all together, and many besides myself have been laid by. It is bearably pleasant to be pent up day by day within doors when feeling well, but almost unbearably so when one feels ill and out of sorts. However, I trust it is all over now, please God, and I must endeavour to make up for lost time. Several of the people, Arthur included, have been quite ill through eating a certain eel, caught somewhere in the sea and very poisonous. They all detected the burning, stinging sensation on their lips, tongue and palate as soon as they had eaten it, but fancied it was the taro. From that time till the end of the week, they have been all laid up, and one or two have been very bad indeed. They have experienced not only burning, sharp pains internally, and pricking, poignant stabbing pains in the palms of the hands and soles of the feet, but have suffered a great deal also from strong and utter prostration with an abhorrent distaste for food. Several others were warned betimes from partaking, or the poisoning might have been more general. This particular eel was caught by a heathen on a Sunday, and therefore its peculiarly deleterious and poisonous qualities have been traced by the more virtuous to that fact, of which no cognizance was taken before it was cooked and eaten, nor would have been afterwards, but for its effects. The really admitted fact, however, I believe, is that certain fish caught at certain parts of the beach at particular seasons of the year, have all a more or less poisonous effect on those who eat them. The people themselves say it is the feed they find there which makes them poisonous, but it may be inherent in the nature of the particular fish. I remember on many occasions on board the _Southern Cross_, the natives looking askance at some very tempting looking fish which had been caught, and pronouncing them dangerous to eat. On one very memorable occasion, when dinner was over, one of the senior boys being cook, and one of the most poisonous of fish having been served and partaken of by all, this youth without a change of feature saying to some remark that was passed, “Oh! Yes, we die in our country if we eat that fish.” This was reassuring after what had passed, and we eyed one another with wistful and anxious faces, thinking whether or not perchance our end may have been hastened by our wilful inadvertence in thus partaking of deadly poison. But we neither swelled, nor fell down dead, and felt no ill effects. Many a time, too, since, I have eaten the same fish with the like happy and successful result. This particular kind of eel, however, has played the same _post mortem_ tricks before, and taken his revenge for wrongs received before going into the oven. The people tell me that those who have eaten, have become like mummies, their hair and skin have changed to a ghastly leaden hue, and have fallen off like a snake’s skin. How far this is true or fable, I know not, but it may be partially credible. Nothing of the sort has happened fortunately, at this present crisis, and the sufferers are about again.

A dull, dark evening ushered in a blustery, rough night, and the coughs and sneezings and other demonstrative sounds peculiar to people who do not carry pocket handkerchiefs, bore testimony to the fact of an epidemic catarrh, contracted during a very inclement week. Like the Norfolk Islanders, they look for the source of such things in the world without, and accuse my friend Mr. Blackburne of having brought it here, all the way from Queensland. In what part of his luggage he secreted so desirable a communication I know not, but they are decidedly of opinion that he it was who ‘gave them’ the cold, and they were unwise enough to ‘catch it’ from him. He ‘had’ the cold, they said, when he came here, and certainly said I, I believe he took it away again. However, as colds are catching, I suppose they must be left content with their belief, and to ‘bless him,’ I hope, every time they sneeze.

_Wednesday, September 1st._--Another full month past and gone, and leaving I fear, but a poor memory of much good done behind it. The days here certainly fly past one after another in rapid flight, and the very monotony of existence speeds their departure. One day is so like another that it passes unmarkedly by, and one finds oneself, all at once, at the end of the week, and is brought to final consciousness of the rapid rotation of time’s wheels at the end of the month. What has been done in the month? I fear there is but a poor record. God grant that I myself may have, by His Grace, made one step forward, and have been instrumental in leading others also onward to a higher and better life, and to that final epoch where the flight of time is unmarked by days and weeks and months and years, for time itself will be swallowed up in eternity.

Nothing much happened to-day. A bright morning seemed likely to usher in a fine and brilliant day, but in the forenoon the rain pelted down, and for some hours we had a glorious downpour. The “blue bottles” gave indication of this at Prayers and morning school, and I have never known them in such numbers or so troublesome. One perfectly loathed oneself, but escape from them was impossible, they crowded my house, which is generally free from their incursions, and the poor people seemed quite distracted. This is the great yam planting season, and everyone was away after school busy at his garden. The heavy rain, however, drove them home, and some took refuge here with me. Natives are not great hands for introducing originality into their conversation, nor do they go much beyond the sight of their eyes, or the hearing of their ears for their subject matter. Any prominent object which attracts their attention is made the subject of remark. This is a specimen of the sort of conversation which goes on. I was writing when my friends came in, “Oh! you are writing!” “Yes, what else did you suppose I should be doing with pen, ink and paper?” “Oh! this is a curious tin, what is in it? Meat?” “You are the 101st person who has asked that self-same question, I answered the 100 before you with the monosyllabic negative, No, and I give you the same answer.” “What then is in it? Fish?” “No.” “Fruit?” “Yes, I hope you are satisfied.” “Oh! I see you have a “kove” (native flute) up there in the thatch, who gave it you?” “You yourself have asked that same question ten times before, and I have always given the same answer, ‘Arthur,’ next time perhaps you will know without asking.” “You have a bow and arrow there, where did you get them?” “Considering that every person in the village knows from whence they came, and has made them the subject of general conversation for weeks, I wonder you should be the only person ignorant of their origin, especially as you were here when I brought them from Tasmouri.” This is the style of thing which goes on, and except that one is glad to accede to any means for introducing conversation, one would soon weary of it. They themselves do not seem to mind going over and over again the same conversation, and wading through the same minutiæ of detail, and they expect one to be equally patient. The rain gave me a good opportunity of planting my new fence, and I planted, as a start, a number of oranges around my house. The evening was fine, and the moon already quite sizeable. We had the usual singing school after Prayers, with very good success. When the practice was over, I asked the older men to sing some of their own songs, and they readily complied. Old blind Daniel is the great leader, and knows all the songs. There are three parts to the native song, (1) the person who starts and sings the air as in a Gregorian tone, and then follows (2) a chorus, then (3) a single voice takes up the air again, and this is followed by the chorus. The first singer is said to “tau” the song, the second to “sawu,” and the chorus to “lai.” The songs are very pretty, and they kept them up with spirit for quite an hour. Some of the singers beat a weird kind of accompaniment with bamboos, and kept most excellent time. When the performance was over, it was time to retire, and soon quietness warned me that it was time for me, too, to be going to rest.

_Thursday, September 2nd._--How the days seem to chase one another in ever too hasty flight! It seems no sooner morning than the night is here again. We tried the experiment to-day of having prayers even earlier than usual, to be rid of the noxious blue bottles, but only partially succeeded in anything like freedom from them. At the school subsequently they were more troublesome, I think, than ever, and it was not an easy matter to keep one’s own or one’s pupils’ attention, with these hideous creatures buzzing about. After Prayers and school one is fairly ready for breakfast, and by the time that is over the day has already worn on towards Noon.

It is the commencement of planting time now, and the people are very busy day after day in their yam gardens preparing the soil. It is by no means easy work, and they certainly make a very good show by the end of the day.

I always like to get out somewhere if I can every day, for I find my health is better for the constant out-door exercise. This morning the people were all going shrimping, and I accepted an invitation to go with them to a place called ‘Niewotu.’ I had never been there before, and I was charmed with the picturesque beauty of it. A clear, flowing river is utilized for the purpose of irrigation, and there one saw again the quaint little taro beds so deftly laid out, and the showy crotons and dracænas ornamenting the immediate view, while all round the bush was thickly matted with innumerable, and almost impenetrable creepers with masses of white and pink flowers. In the direct foreground one got a peep of the bright blue sea sparkling in the midday heat. A bathe, and green cocoanuts were very agreeable and most refreshing. The boon of abundance of water in these hot countries is inestimable, and this island is rich in its water supply. Araga again on the other hand is very badly off, and Opa not much better.

Evening duties as usual, and some hymn singing afterwards.

_Saturday, September 4th._--After Prayers and breakfast, the boys and I started for a long meditated journey up the coast. It was a most glorious day, but very hot, the sun scorching down with pitiless heat. We embarked at Kerepei, sixteen of us all told, and rowed away against the Trade wind which was blowing strong down the coast. We were a merry party, and the shore view was very beautiful as we coasted along. From the point of embarkation to Tanrowo, a distance of eight or ten miles, there is not a single “salt water” native, and it seems a great pity to see so much valuable land lying fallow, when it might be utilised for almost any purpose. As we rounded the Point between us and Tanrowo, called “Vaturowa,” we saw a vessel at anchor in the distance. The heat on the water was intense, and I felt myself being scorched about the face and hands. The natives, hatless and clotheless, did not seem to mind it, and their exuberant spirits were proof against almost any outer evil. We saw some people along the coast, and conversed with them at several places. Arriving at “Beitarara,” we saw a number of people we knew. We of course asked about the “schooner” at anchor, and they said they did not know what she was, as she had only just a short time before come to her anchorage. However, the boat painted red was coming towards us, and soon we were within speaking distance. I asked where she was from, and what was her errand. As they came close to us, I heard my name called, and found myself shaking hands with Captain Martin of the schooner “Idaho” from Noumea. I met him years ago when he was in charge of the “John S. Lane,” Captain McCleod owner, and he very kindly then towed me across from Opa to Pentecost Island. He seemed very glad to see me, and invited me on board. He now belongs to the “Nouvelles Hebrides” Company, and was recruiting labour for “Port Sandwich” in Mallicollo. The Company had bought land here at “Beitarara,” and he just dropped in to see the people. He was very kind and amiable, and I spent some time on board, and made some purchases.

The boat then started for our destination, where we found many amiable, friendly people awaiting us, and although they had sold their land, they had very hazy notions as to how much had been purchased, or what was to be done with it. After spending some time with them, we gave them some presents, and then found it was time to be getting homeward. A strong favourable breeze took us rapidly to the Kerepei. Arriving at “Ruosi,” we found a large number of our people awaiting us, with a smoking hot supper they had cooked for us there. We arrived here tired and sunburnt just before dark. Evensong followed, and a singing practice for Sunday.

_Sunday, September 5th._--School very early on account of the blue bottles. I took all the old men into the Church and talked to them there. They paid good attention, and I hope remembered something of what they were taught. I tried to explain how God declared His Almighty Power most chiefly in showing mercy and pity. There were times when He revealed Himself as a consuming fire, but that was in His attitude towards sin, but the whole being and essence of God was love. After breakfast I started with Patrick for “Mandurvat” by way of “Naruru.” Anthony had already had Morning Prayer, so I did not stay long there, but pushed on for my destination. It was very hot walking, and I was very liquid when I arrived at Mandurvat. Sunday travelling here is much more tiring than week-day work, for you are obliged to respect the day a little, as regards the clothing you wear. I had not a very large congregation, and when service was over I asked the reason. The people then told me that a certain man called “Ala” had “tabu’d” (_i.e._ made sacred) the school, and prevented the people of his village from attending service. I protested against this, and when I had said my say, the plucky young teacher “Tarione” at once went to the village, and broke the “tabu,” rendering himself liable to a fine of pigs or perhaps a knock on the head. “Ala” was not at home or I would have gone to see him. However, I believe Tarione did all I could do, and perhaps more. I was very much pleased with the way some of the scholars had been taught, and two females especially, took me quite by surprise. These people have no baptized teacher, and the efficiency of the school is entirely owing to the exertion and perseverance of two young men, Tarione aforementioned and “Livotari.” The latter requested Baptism for himself, wife and child, and Tarione has previously expressed the same wish. Now that the tabu is taken off, or at least broken, no doubt the scholars will increase, but it reflects great credit on these young fellows that they have built the school themselves, taught themselves to read, and do their best to teach their people. They are a most friendly, good-natured people, and act up to their limited light and knowledge. They have prayers and school every day, and this is very wonderful, when one considers the few advantages they have had. “Masa,” the leading man of the district, was present at the service, and was very enthusiastic in the after conversation. They gave us a sumptuous luncheon of various kinds of “loko,” and we started for Tanrig when the sun’s rays began somewhat to decline. At “Naruru” we stopped some time, and I addressed the people. Anthony afterwards came on with me to Tanrig. Here, in the evening, I preached on the subject of the Gospel, the Pharisee and the Publican, and tried to adduce some healthful lessons from the parable. We were somewhat inclined by nature to think more highly of ourselves than we ought to think, and not to be sober and humble in our self consideration. Because we attended service regularly, and were very accurate in our daily lives, we were apt to despise others around us, who were not so exact, and were still living heathen lives. When we came before God, our thought ought not to be of our own worthiness or goodness in His sight, still less of the depravity and wickedness of others, but our attitude and our language should be that of our own utter unworthiness and sinfulness, we should imitate the action and adopt the words of the Publican rather than that of the Pharisee, and smite our breasts and say, “God be merciful to me a sinner.” What we sought from all our services was to go down to our houses justified, and the only road to justification and righteousness was humility. That was the only road for white and black people alike, for teacher and taught, for Priest and people. How many of us would be justified that night? How many of us were growing day by day in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ?

_Monday, September 6th._--Captain Martin had kindly offered to tow me and my boat’s crew across to Opa if I could manage to be ready. He would come down and anchor at Kerepei, and fire a gun as a signal for me. The gun went, but I was not ready, and after breakfast I went down to tell him so. Being a French ship they kept French hours, and I found a second breakfast awaiting me on board. Twelve people had recruited at Tanrowo, and all had been bought with snider rifles, and plenty of ammunition. French and English recruiting laws are very different. Vessels from Queensland and Fiji are not allowed to give guns or ammunition to the natives, but the French do just as they like. While I was on board, another silly female was recruited. In one of her humours she had run away from her husband, and had come a distance of twelve or fifteen miles, to be engaged for three years as the slave and tool of some depraved Frenchman on one of the island stations. I could say nothing, although I knew the result of the embarkation. However, the Captain promised me that he would call again at the place, and see the woman’s friends, and if they consented to her going, he would keep her and pay for her, but if not, she should be put on shore again. How far or how truly he will carry out his promise I do not know, but he is a tender hearted and, I think, an upright man in his dealings with the natives. As soon as I was ashore, he lifted his anchor and went up the coast, but I have not yet heard what he did. He was very kind to our boys, and gave them several tins of meat and biscuits. We made a fire at Ruosi, and there they cooked their dinner, while after a bathe I came home. In the evening it rained very hard, and just before the bell went for Prayers, our congregation was therefore not so large as usual, and our numbers thinner at school. I was very tired, and went early to bed.

_Wednesday, September 7th._--Very heavy rain during the night succeeded this morning by a northerly wind, and a hot, close, oppressive day. I have not felt it so warm since I have been here, and I was glad that my duties kept me at home, and mostly in doors all the day. Nothing here seems possible to be done without a feast and a dance, and all work was postponed to-day to do my new fence the honour of having a supper prepared for it. Any excuse for eating and dancing. The women were kept busy at the ovens cooking, and the men away at the seaside endeavouring to get a meal of fish, seemingly the choicest compliment possible to be paid to the exterior decoration of my house. The fence making certainly was a most laborious business, and the result, if not strikingly beautiful, has the advantage of being strong and durable, and hitherto pig-proof.

The men returned in the afternoon with about thirty nice fish, which were at once consigned to the oven, and in the evening the feast was spread here in front of my house, and the whole village assembled to partake. Grace was said, and the huge quantities of food distributed, and eaten with very evident relish. Postprandial grace having been said, the company dispersed, and soon all the festal remnants, too, disappeared. The evening was one of the most glorious I have ever seen, and I sat outside my house for a long time talking with the people. Many were prevented attending by reason of sickness, and our numbers at Prayers and school were not so full as usual. After school a dance was proposed, but did not come off. Instead thereof, a few of the men came and serenaded me, very quietly and softly, and much more in consonance with my feelings than the noisy songs and clappings of the dance. It was one of those nights in which it was a “shame to go to bed,” but tired nature seeks repose, and soon the village was sunk in silent slumber.

_Wednesday, September 8th._--Another most glorious morning followed by a very hot and ennervating day. After our morning duties here, public and private, I went with some of the boys to Ruosi. It was very pleasant there by the water side, and one got a perfect freedom from the blue bottles, which invaded my house in such numbers, this morning, that I had to retire. The discomfort of these loathsome creatures is excessive, and one gets away from them as far as possible. Not having had a washing day for some days, I made one to-day, and myself turned washerwoman. The one idea of natives with respect to clothes washing, is to pile on the soap agony, and leave your garments as stiff as a board, and almost as uncomfortable to wear. I entrusted a pair of white flannel trowsers, and a white flannel coat to one of the boys to wash, but I tremble to think what the result will be. On our way homeward we were stopped by loud “cooes” from the rear rank, and Patrick came running forward to say “They are here.” Soon a white hat appeared, and I fancied at once it must be the “Southern Cross,” but wondered why she had come so quickly.

However, I was soon undeceived, and was greeted by Mr. Coates, Government Agent of the “Lord of the Isles” from Fiji. He was photographing the Falls, and the boys brought him on here. He was very amiable, and followed me on to the village. He took three views of different parts of the place, and after staying a short time returned again to the ship as night was rapidly approaching. It is so seldom that a white man ventures up here, that the sight of one is a seven days’ wonder. He came quite unarmed, and was evidently not frightened by the ferocity of our people. It is customary to look upon natives as naturally wild and ferocious, and few white men trust themselves among them without arms. However, of course we always go armed with a Power more protective than a Colt’s revolver, and we, I suppose, engender trust in the natives by trusting them.

The “Lord of the Isles” is a large ship of 300 tons, and has brought over two hundred natives from Fiji as returned labour.

Mr. Coates told me that the Conservative Government was in power with Lord R. Churchill as Premier, and that the English Government had sent an ultimatum to the French to withdraw their troops from the New Hebrides, or their action in sending them there would be looked upon as a breach of faith and an act of aggression. There will be troubles down here yet I fear, with all the shilly-shallying there is over the annexation of these islands. The French are evidently intending some forward step, for they have troops both in Havannah Harbour, and Port Sandwich (Mallicollo), and the Nouvelles-Hebrides Company are buying land right and left all over these islands. It would not be pleasant to find myself a prisoner in France instead of a free man in England, and I hope there may be no fear of such a criterion.

Our evening duties as usual ended with singing.

_Thursday, September 9th._--Another most glorious morning, and a bright warm day. My home duties kept me here till far on in the day, when I joined a large picnic party at Ruosi. Certainly these natives take life easily, and in their own way get a good deal of enjoyment out of it. They seem utterly devoid of that care and worry which kills so many of us, and certainly follow the Scripture injunction as to taking no anxious thought. Nature affords them all they want for their bodily comfort, and I trust religion supplies the rest. It is perfectly wonderful how far more merry and light hearted they are than their heathen neighbours, and I fondly hope the secret is within, such jolly, amiable, good-natured creatures they are, and so happy and friendly and harmonious among themselves. The sportsmen to the number of twelve or fifteen went off in search of wild fowl, or any other of the feathered tribe they might come across, the cooks setting to work to get the oven alight and start the cooking. Prawns were caught in abundance, and were eaten with roasted taro, as a sort of lunch, and green cocoanuts were secured as the refreshing beverage. It was an animated and picturesque scene, and in the evening the sportsmen returned with five fowls and one owl, an odd looking object, as the result of their day’s sport. These birds were soon consigned to the oven with the other food, and were partaken of in the evening. I came away beforehand and had my dinner here. It was a most gloriously still and beautiful evening and the native songs sung by the boys coming home, sounded very pretty in the distance. There seems to have been an exuberant joyous spirit about to-day, animating everyone, and never since I have been here, have I known so hearty and bright a service as we had this evening.

After school most of the boys and younger men went to “Unduna,” a _suburb_ of Tanrig, to a great dance, which is to be kept up till morning light. The occasion of it is the ‘nasu’ing of two gamals to-morrow, and nothing can be done without a dance. Arthur, who has neither the strength nor the inclination to go, has been keeping me company, and we have had some nice and profitable conversation. He has left me now, and in the stillness of the most glorious night, the song of the dancers breaks upon one’s ear, and makes one conscious that one is in the Melanesian Islands. Besides that one sound, nothing else is audible, and I myself am going to prepare for the quiet and rest of my humble couch.

_Saturday, September 11th._--Started this morning after breakfast for Tasmate by boat, and saw a vessel heading in for the watering place. This was the _Southern Cross_ from the islands, and before long she came to anchor and we were on board shaking hands. We were somewhat surprised to see the Bishop, but he was not well and was going for the change to Norfolk Island. None of the party on board looked very well, but they were going South and would soon feel the benefit of the colder weather. Mr. Turnbull came back with me and spent the night here. After service I held a consultation with the teachers as to Arthur’s going to Norfolk Island, and they were unanimous that he ought to go. A. P. Huqe offered to stay in his place. The vessel was much earlier than I expected her, but none too early. The news generally, very good.

There were five earthquake shocks to-day, one of which was very severe, felt equally on shore and at sea. The Captain fancied the ship was on a rock.