Chapter IV: Part 4

_9th._--We should have picked up Arorai yesterday at four o'clock, but somehow missed it and did not arrive until this morning. An atoll about six miles long, the first of the Kingsmills (or Gilberts). Natives swarmed round the ship in canoes built somewhat after the pattern of the American Indian birch-bark canoe. The pieces are tied together with cocoanut sennit and the boats leak like sieves. Louis, Lloyd, and I went on shore in the afternoon; Louis, to my distress, for it was very hot, with a hammer to break off bits of the reef for examination and Lloyd with the camera. Louis found the rock he wished to break but was a little afraid to use the force necessary. Seeing a powerful young man standing near, he offered a stick of tobacco for the job. The fellow smiled with delight, took the hammer, and struck one blow. "Too much work," said he, dropping the hammer.

Lloyd and I were taken in tow by an old man and led to the house of the missionary, who was himself on board the ship; but his wife and family, a handsome young Samoan woman with a pair of sickly twins, were at the door to give us welcome. We drank cocoanuts with her and took a photograph of the group.

There is very little soil on the island, which is subject to severe droughts; yet there are a number of breadfruit and jack-fruit trees growing luxuriantly, not many, however, old enough to bear. The village looked clean and prosperous. Children and women were pulling weeds and carrying them away in baskets. Lloyd and I strolled along a wide avenue that ran through the town for about a quarter of a mile, stopping once to photograph an old woman who had evidently dressed up for the ship. She was standing in the doorway of a neat house built of stockades tied together--the first I've seen in these islands. The house belonged to a trader who was abroad at the time. Returning, we saw two women, tall and superior in carriage and looks to the common people, marching abreast toward us; they were dressed in gala-day _ridis_ of smoked and oiled pandanus strips and swung the heavy fringe from side to side, as they walked, in the most approved and latest style. As they came nearer to us their four eyes were fixed on the horizon behind us, and they swaggered past as though unaware of our existence, though we were attended by a following of the greater part of the village. I stopped and looked after them, but neither turned a head.[13]

[13] At this island I remember that the women wore what looked like
doll's hats as ornaments on their heads. They were about the size
of the top of a tumbler.

At the veranda of the mission house we found Louis entertained by the old man and indignant at receiving no attention from the missionary people; we suggested that his chopping at the reef in the hot sun had convinced them that he was a lunatic.

We had heard of a sick trader, so we all three went to his house with an immense tail of followers, who seated themselves outside in a circle eight or ten deep while we talked to the sick man. A forlorn being he looked, lying on a mat, his head thrust out into the open through the thatched sides of the hut to catch what air there was. He had been ill a month and a half, he said; the whole population had been ill, also, his wife and children with the rest. With them it came first as a rash, then a fever, followed by convalescence. He had no rash, but after feeling very badly for a week or two, fell down in a fit, foaming at the mouth and black in the face. Since then he had been suffering from an intolerable pain in the head and could not stand for weakness. I asked if he had proper food, which Louis followed by asking if his appetite was good. When he could get anything to eat, he replied, he liked it well enough; but he could not get anything. A bit of fish or a chicken he could relish, but the people seldom fished and a chicken was impossible. His food consisted almost entirely of pounded pandanus seeds, in which there was about as much nourishment as in chopped straw. His hands and feet were pallid and bloodless and he looked very near the end. He was born, he said, in Colton Terrace, Edinburgh. "I'm frae Edinburgh mysel'," said Louis. "We are far frae hame," returned the poor fellow with a sigh. We went at once to the beach to get a boat, intending to consult "Hartshorn," our medical authority, as to his case, which I believed to be suppressed measles. Louis spoke to Mr. Henderson about sending the man a case of soups to begin with, anything heavier being dangerous in his weak state and semistarved condition. Mr. Henderson, who is generosity itself, seemed rather hurt that we had not taken it for granted that anything the man needed would be supplied him at once. Mr. Henderson's only fear was that the man would, in the usual native custom, give all the food away. He first divides with his family, and then they divide with the outside relations, so that provisions sufficient for a month may only last a day. It is an amiable weakness, certainly, but one could wish that the recipients of his bounty showed a little more gratitude. Fishing would be no more than play for them; but I fear neither fish, flesh, nor fowl can save him now.

The missionary who came aboard showed Louis his eye, in which he was blind, the effect of measles, and begged for a cure. Of course there was none, but Louis advised him to live as generously as possible and, instead of a continual diet of pandanus seeds, to try and get some fish. As soon as it was dark the sea was crowded with fishing-boats, lighted up with flaring torches, made by wrapping sennit round a dry cocoanut leaf; so we hope our poor trader may receive some benefit, also. We could see that they were scooping up in their nets many flying-fish. The light from the torch attracts the fish, which come to the surface of the water round the boats and are then dipped up in little nets on the ends of long poles.

While I was resting after my excursion to the island I heard a great commotion; a native had been discovered trying to stow away in the hold among the coal. Two large men could not overpower him, and for a long time he refused to come out. One of the white firemen finally leaned over the open hatch and held out a stick of tobacco. "Won't you come out for that?" he asked with an insinuating smile. "He is making signs that he will," he continued, looking at me quite proud of his cleverness. Sure enough, up came the native, a beautiful youth with a sullen face and blazing eyes. He strode haughtily past the fireman, looking neither at him nor his proffered tobacco, sprang upon the side of the ship, where he balanced himself a moment, and then jumped into the sea and swam ashore. I sympathised with the boy and was sorry he was caught, the more especially that another man had chosen a better hiding-place and was not discovered until we were well at sea.

When we left the island we should have signalled a boat, but a canoe lying at hand, we took that instead. We waded out toward the canoe, but, as the water began rising above my knees, I stopped in alarm when a native caught me up in his arms, unawares, before I had time to arrange my skirts, and I was carried out, willy-nilly, my legs waving frantically in the air. I tried to shield them from the view of the ship with my umbrella, which I was unable to open, but I fear my means were inadequate. The canoe was a fourth filled with water; its owner sternly commanded Louis and me to bail and Lloyd to paddle.

From the last island we took on some passengers--two cats in an onion crate--and at this island exchanged them for a woman and a sickly baby. I was much amazed at seeing the mother spread a thick, dry mat on the wet deck for her own comfort, her baby being planted on the cold boards. I made her take it up and lay it beside her on the mat, which seemed to amuse her a great deal. As the baby still shivered, I got an old _lava-lava_ of Tin Jack's and wrapped it up in that, charging the mother not to dare remove the _lava-lava_.

This is the island where, in 1871, three slave-ships, the _Moroa_ (bark), _Eugenie_ (schooner), and a barkentine, name unknown, came for "recruits." The King, in his fright, offered them all his people except the very young, the very old, and a few young girls reserved for his harem. It is needless to say that his offer was accepted. I have since met and conversed with a man who was on board one of these ships.

_12th._--Arrived early this morning at Onoatoa. The missionary's child is named Painkiller.

_13th._--Noukanau in the morning. Met the German "labour" brig _Cito_, after recruits, doubtless for Samoa; then ran over to Piru and back again to Noukanau at night. At Piru we met the American schooner _Lizzie_ with two passengers.

At Piru came on board a man named Cameron, another named Briggs, and a person with an Italian name I forget. Briggs said he made much more money by "doctoring" than by trading. A strange disease, he told us, had broken out in the island; the Samoan wife of a trader had died the night before and many others were down with it. It is contagious, and the natives take no care to avoid infection. I said it was measles, which Briggs denied, declaring it was typhus. I asked him where he got his knowledge of "doctoring." "Straight from my father," said he; "my father was the celebrated Doctor Briggs, and if you buy a bottle of his patent medicine you can read an account of his life on the wrapper."

Cameron is a Scotsman with a twinkling, hard blue eye, the daft Scotch eye. He followed every word we said with sly caution (partly, no doubt, in consequence of drink) as though he feared being trapped into some dangerous admission. He was one of the men of the _Wandering Minstrel_ that was so mysteriously wrecked on Midway Island, and was afterward charged by the captain with not reporting the fact of there being other starving castaways left on Midway when he was rescued. To us he denied this vehemently, and said he at once delivered a letter written by the captain. Louis tried to get a hint of how and why the vessel was wrecked, but failed. "Mosey," the Chinaman who was in the boat with Cameron, was afterward wrecked again on the _Tiernan_, the schooner we so nearly took passage in ourselves.[14] Louis got this much from Cameron--but I am sure very little, if any, of it is true--that he had written an account of the wreck which, with the log he kept on the boat, had been left on one of the islands we are about to visit, for safe-keeping. Before Cameron left he had given Louis a signed order for the apocryphal manuscript. Of the two men we brought one back with us, Captain Smith, who, having lost his schooner on this island, remained as a trader. He seemed a modest, intelligent young man, rather above the South Sea average. Tom Day, however, is--must be--the "flower of the Pacific." Tom is fifty years of age, with a strong, alert figure and the mobile face of an actor; his eyes are blue-grey in deep orbits, blazing with energy and drink and high spirits. "Tom Day" is not his real name, he says, and Tom Drunk would do quite as well; he had found it necessary to go to the expense of a shilling to have it changed, as he had three times deserted from men-of-war. "I've been in prison for it," he said cheerfully, "and I got the cat for it, and if you like you can see the stars and stripes on my back yet." He took pleasure in representing himself as the most desperate of ruffians. Tin Jack asked him to go back to Sydney with him. "I couldn't leave my old woman behind," said he; "and besides, you see, I got into trouble there. The fact is, I've got another wife there, and I think I'd do better to keep away." He then began to tell of a quarrel he'd had with his "old woman" when he took her to Auckland. How she chased him along the street with a knife in one hand and a bag of sovereigns--his entire fortune--in the other; he begged for the bag of sovereigns, trying to lay hold of it and at the same time avoid the knife wielded by the "old woman" (a young native girl, no doubt), who alternately lunged at him with the knife and cracked him over the head with the bag of sovereigns. The bursting of the bag, which scattered the sovereigns in every direction, fortunately ended the quarrel. He mentioned Maraki, on which Louis called to mind a story he had been told many times over.

[14] When we were accidentally marooned at Apemama during a former
cruise.

"You are the Tom Day who had a native's head cut off," said he; "now tell me the story," which Tom presently did. A native had shot at him without provocation. Some one said: "Don't shoot; it's a white man." "A white man can cut a bullet as well as another," was the native's reply as he fired. Tom put his hand to his ear, found that the shot had grazed it and his head, and the blood was running from the wound. Infuriated, he rushed into the house for his rifle, but when he got back, the man frightened at what he had done, had disappeared. Tom tried to persuade the people standing about to go after the man, pinion him, and fetch him back to be tried. To this they objected; they could not get him, they said, as he was a chief and had people to protect him. One of the men came close to Tom. "Better we kill him," he said in a low voice, which Tom imitated. "If you do," was Tom's answer, "fetch me the head." Then turning to us with an apologetic air he explained that "If I had not asked to see the head they'd just have gone and killed some poor, inoffensive fellow and I'd never have known the difference." That night he was called up by the men who had the head, sure enough. "I made 'em stick it up on the wall," said Tom, "and then I got a light and looked at it. I jerked it down and slung it as far as I could; and, by golly, the old woman was in the way, half scared to death, and it took her on the side of the head and knocked her down, and I had to pour three or four pails of water over her, for she had fainted dead away."

"And after that," he continued with an air of virtuous indignation, "they wanted to make trouble about it in Sydney--they said I had killed a man. What did they mean by it, I'd like to know? I never killed no man; I only told them to fetch his head so I could be sure it was him."

It was very cold last night and my bed and tent and things nearly blew away; I could not leave them and go below where it was warmer, but had to stay and hold on to my belongings lest I should lose them entirely; so to-day I lashed everything securely. No one stayed on the hatch but Lloyd and me. The onions alongside Lloyd's and my beds are decaying, and smell horrid, as do a great lot of sharks' fins drying over our heads.

_15th._--Waked to find that we were lying off Tapituea, Tin Jack's station. He had packed the day before and was all ready to land, his pig tied up and lying on deck. Tapituea looks a large and dreary island, the whole lee side submerged, making it very dangerous. We could not venture inside the lagoon, and even if we did we should have to anchor far away from the landing-place. It was a long time before any one came on board, but finally a Hawaiian who spoke a little English came out in his canoe. As Tin Jack appeared to be rather depressed with the news from his place, and it was almost impossible to land his stuff, we left Tapituea and ran on to Nanouti, where he thought he might prefer to stop. He has a sort of partner at Nanouti, known as "Billy Jones's cousin." The partner was soon on board, a man with a big head and one hand blown off by dynamite. A new arrangement was made with Tin Jack, who said he preferred staying in the ship as long as possible. We are now to carry him on with us, and land him at Nanouti as we return. A pleasant-looking young native came on board with the trader. He wore a rosary round his neck, which reminded me that there were Catholic missionaries on the island; I therefore made a little parcel of four Catholic pictures for them, and Louis put in his card; Tin Jack added a bag of garlic.

We left Nanouti before dinner, had a beautiful golden sunset, and are now steaming on to somewhere else, Apemama,[15] I trust. To-night the evening star is extraordinarily brilliant, with the blue fire of a diamond. Last night Mr. Hird came to the hatch and called out in a most excited voice: "Osbourne, we are just passing the equator!" Lloyd jumped out of a sound sleep and ran aft, crying: "Where is she? I don't see her!" It was a sorry joke; we were crossing the line, and it was not Captain Reid's schooner, on which we had passed so many delightful months.

[15] It seems easier to explain our relation with Tembinoka, King of
Apemama, at whose island I hoped we would call, by giving an extract
from a former diary written on the trading schooner _Equator_:

We have been now about a month on the island of the redoubtable
Tembinoka, an absolute monarch, who holds the lives of his subjects
(our own also) in the hollow of his hand. He says: "I kill plenty
men, him 'praid (afraid) now. I no kill any more." That he does not
mean to kill any more his subjects do not believe, nor I, quite,
myself. He once shot five men, one after another, as they sat in a
"_moniap_" (native house) where they had been brought to be examined
by him concerning some breach of his laws. There were seven men in
all, but two escaped and are still at large in another island. He
says his father had a head house where he hung up the decapitated
heads of his enemies--or in other words, people who differed in
their opinion from him or whom he did not like (a friend of ours
afterward saw this _moniap_ with its grisly decoration of skulls).
No missionaries and no white people are allowed on Tembinoka's
islands (he rules over three) with the exception of Johnny, an
inoffensive, dying "poor white," who lives some four miles from the
village. We did not know in the least whether we should be allowed
to remain, and waited with some anxiety for the appearance of his
Majesty. In the meantime the whole ship was in a commotion, scouring
the decks and getting everything into apple-pie order. I did not
know that the _Equator_ could be brought to such a pitch of
cleanliness. Finally the King's steps arrived, were made fast to the
sides, and the royal boat was seen to put out. We thought it more
dignified to remain in the cabin and show none of the curiosity we
felt concerning this very remarkable man. We had been told
that he was grossly stout, and that was all the description we had
been able to get from the stupid people we had talked with;
consequently, we were not prepared to meet the most magnificently
royal personage that it has yet been our lot to behold, a gentleman
by nature and a king every inch of him. He gave us a long and
careful study; afterward he said it was first the eyes and then the
mouth he judged by. We passed muster, Louis's eyes being specially
commended, and were told to come ashore and remain as long as we
liked as his guests. The next day we chose a spot where we thought
it would be pleasant to live, and Tembinoka ordered his men to carry
houses and set them up there for us. The captain and Lloyd stayed at
the King's palace all night; the next morning they were alarmed to
see Tembinoka shooting into the village with a rifle. He explained
that his men were lazy and should be at work, so he was reminding
them that accidents were possible. The whole trembling village set
to work like bees, and by the time I came over, one sleeping house
was up, a little thatched bird-cage with flaps on all sides to raise
or lower as one likes, and an opensided cook house for Ah Foo (a
Chinese servant we brought from the Marquesas). The King
sat on a mat and directed proceedings. He motioned me to sit beside
him and asked for a cigarette, of which he is very fond. Whenever a
native has to pass the King, or come near him for any purpose, he
must crouch and crawl; even his Majesty's own sister did so when she
came to join our party.

* * * * *

We have had a little ripple of excitement on the usually smooth
current of our existence. To go back to the beginning: Soon after we
were settled in "Equator town," as we call our hamlet, the King
proposed sending the royal cook to learn from Ah Foo. The man was an
insolent, handsome fellow, with no intention of either learning or
working, and either lay on the floor of the kitchen or squatted
smoking, while Ah Foo, who was in mortal terror of Tembinoka,
prepared the dishes which the royal cook, without doubt, passed off
as his own productions. This went on for some time, and as the
King's meal hours are the same as our own, interfered a good deal
with Ah Foo's work and consequently our comfort. The climax was
reached when the cook, too lazy to walk down to the well for a can
of water for himself, came softly behind me as I was watering my
plants and impudently snatched a dipperful from my pail. We then
took the first opportunity to let the King know how things
were going, advising him to send a man who was willing to learn.
Since then his Majesty's steward, a capable, serious man, has
accompanied the cook. Shortly after our complaint we heard several
rifle-shots from the palace, and soon after met the cook, who
passed us hurriedly, without the usual salutations, his countenance
bearing the marks of furious anger and fear. It seems that he had
been the King's target, running and crouching behind piles of
stones, the bullets flying after him. Tembinoka came over a few days
later and apologised for having possibly alarmed or annoyed us. He
said he had no intention of killing the man, which he might have
done easily, being a dead shot, but only wished to frighten him. He
said he had killed enough people to show the rest what he could do,
but thought it a good plan to remind them occasionally that he had
a rifle and the power to use it as he pleased. "More better him
'praid" (afraid), were his words. As may be imagined, the cook bears
us no good will, knowing that our complaints had turned that fearful
rifle against him. However, he dropped his insolent airs and became
almost obsequious.

* * * * *

Since we have been here, the schooner _Tiernan_ came in for copra.
While she was lying in the lagoon, the King spent most of his time
aboard and some seven hundred dollars of his money (he spent neatly
one thousand on the _Equator_); then he got very drunk, going on
steadily a little worse or a little better, according to his
headaches. Day before yesterday, he gave a feast and dance to which
he did not invite us. At noon he came to say he would lunch with us.
His eyes were wandering and his voice excited and almost boisterous.
It was plain that royalty was not far from being vulgarly drunk. We
could see that he had been worried by our visits to the palace
having ceased and wished to have an understanding that there was no
ill feeling on either side. He demanded beer, saying that he had
been drinking gin and port wine, and dozed off in his chair,
starting up in a few moments much mortified. I noticed that even in
this stage of semi-intoxication, he used his knife and fork in our
fashion, and not as he had learned from the "South Sea merchants."
It is an unending pleasure to hear the King say: "I want to go
home." There is an element of appeal in it, reminding one of a
child who can bear the tedium no longer. It is always directed to
Louis or, he being absent, to me as his representative. He wanted
to go home very soon after that luncheon. In the evening we could
hear the dancers in the big "speak house," clapping, stamping, and
singing. The sounds were so savage, so like an immense pack of dogs
fighting in a mass, that we did not realise what it was, but thought
that some form of riot was going on. An absolute tyrant like
Tembinoka walks amid dangers of which he is fully conscious.
Tembinoka dead drunk was not an idea to contemplate with serenity,
and the sound of a single shot did not tend to reassure us, so we
laid our pistols where they would be handy. Louis's idea is that no
one would attack the King unless he were absolutely certain of
killing him instantly, in which case we had better wait here until
the enemy came for us. I think on the contrary, that the commission
of so enormous a crime would make a pause. The terrors of the deed
would fill the childish minds of the natives to the exclusion of
anything else and there would be a short time of confusion in which
nothing would take place but shoutings and aimless running about;
then would be our time to rush in and take possession of a stout
wooden house inside the palace walls, and the King's arms, and
really the King's throne. There would always be the chance, a very
slight one, to be sure, that we might still be in time to save the
King's life. I do not quite understand what Louis's tactics would
be, but aside from any other consideration, there must be but one
commander and he should be absolute even though the others do not
agree with him.

After the shot (which was only aimed at a dog, though that we could
not know) we listened and found that there was no interruption to
the singing and dancing, which reassured us. In the night, Louis,
being restless and not sleepy, took his flageolet and wandered off
into the woods, playing as he walked, until I lost hearing of him.
About midnight, or a little later, I was out a short distance from
the house watching with some anxiety for his return. Pretty soon I
saw him coming along the main path toward our house. I also saw a
dark figure dogging his steps. I called to him, telling him what I
had seen. He was convinced that it was an hallucination of mine and
I was quite ready to believe him, but as we talked I caught sight of
the man running toward the palace. I pointed him out to Louis, who
dashed off in pursuit. When the man saw he was outdistanced, for
Louis is a fine sprinter, he turned the face of the cook, smiling
suavely. I heard "sea language" in Louis's biggest voice, and saw
him leaping strangely in the moonlight, like a grasshopper. He came
back in fits of laughter, saying he had kicked the cook, who fled
in terror.

Ever since the cook found we had turned against him I have had an
uneasy feeling that some one was about our sleeping house in the
night, and several times I was certain a hand was cautiously feeling
about inside our door flap. It seemed a foolish notion, so I had
said nothing about it until this night, then Louis said he, too, had
distinctly heard the same thing. We cannot complain to the King for
he would kill the man instantly, and we do not go so far as to
desire his death. We have not seen or heard from him since. Ah Foo
thinks he has gone away in fear of his life. I have it in my heart
to be sorry for the fellow, for his terror must be extreme, and we
who have brought this upon him belong to the feared and hated white
race.

* * * * *

We are getting to be rather anxious concerning the _Equator_. She
was to be gone two weeks, but it is now over a month since she left
us. The _Tiernan_ met her at Butaritari, she leaving the day before
Captain Saxe of the _Tiernan_. Captain Reid intended to go to Maraki
to take a man known as "the poisoner" over to another island,
Taravao, I think. Now Taravao is so near to Maraki that Peter Grant
had been over there in a small boat. There may have been trouble in
Maraki--certainly it was imminent--which has kept the captain, but
still it is a long time. He promised, if the schooner were lost and
he was saved, that he would make his way here somehow. In these
dangerous and uncertain waters one is easily made uneasy. Fortunately
for us, the _Tiernan_ was able to let us have some stores. Our salt
beef was finished, and we were absolutely sickened of wild chickens
shot by Ah Foo with the King's gun.

I had a little strip of coral dug out, got rotted leaves from under
a tree, put them into the hole, and into this I emptied the
half-decayed filth that was left in the onion basket. I should think
I have nearly two dozen onions now growing finely. I have invented
a salad for Louis of which he is extremely fond. In all these
islands there is one cocoanut that has a sweet husk, used for
cleaning the teeth. In Butaritari the baron often caused me great
embarrassment by chewing a brush for me. This sweet nut when green
has a little crisp portion at the stem end which I cut up and made
into salad with oil and vinegar, or rather oil and lime-juice, as
we have no vinegar. We have put out a bottle of sour toddy hoping
to get vinegar from that.

* * * * *

My diary ends here, abruptly; I had too much on my hands to find any
further time for writing diaries, for Ah Foo fell ill, and I must be
cook, purveyor, housemaid, and what not, as well as nurse. Ah Foo
announced his illness (something alarmingly like diphtheria) in
these words, "Me sick: no can work; no can cook--no good any
more--more better you kill me, now," offering Louis, as he spoke, a
large, keenly sharpened carving knife and his bared throat ready for
the sacrifice. He was severely ill for some days, needing almost
constant attention. His undisguised surprise that I would stoop to
nurse a Chinaman was pathetic, and his gratitude afterward was
sometimes shown in unexpected and embarrassing ways, as, for
instance, when he insisted on shooting several men who waked me
from an afternoon nap by singing Christmas songs beneath my window;
or when he proposed to burglariously enter a trader's house to steal
something for me that could not be procured otherwise.

It seemed a rash thing to let the _Tiernan_ sail away without us as
we had finished, not only our own supplies, but the King's also.
True, Mr. Lauterbach, the mate of the _Tiernan_, let us have several
kegs of salt beef, and Reuben (which was the nearest we could come
to pronouncing his name), the King's majordomo, had fetched three
big hawkbill turtles from another island. The turtles were for the
King's own larder, but he sent us a generous portion of each; we, of
course, divided accordingly when we opened our kegs of beef. But
these provisions would soon be finished, and if, as we each feared
but dared not say, the _Equator_ were lost, "cocoanut steaks" might
become our sole diet. Indeed, I had packed the most of our
belongings in some large camphor-wood chests ready to go on board,
and we had even chosen our bunks when a picture of Captain Reid's
face if he arrived to find us gone rose before my mind's eye.
"Louis," I suddenly whispered, "I don't want to go." Without a
question Louis immediately cancelled our passage and the _Tiernan_
sailed away without us. Not many days afterward she capsized and
sank in a very odd way. A heavy gale that had piled the sea up into
enormous waves was followed by a dead calm. The _Tiernan_, lying
quite helpless, was rolled over, further and further, until she
"turned turtle" and sank. Years after the mate, Mr. Lauterbach,
whom I had supposed to be drowned, came to see me in San Francisco.
He, he told me, with some natives, managed to turn over a boat that
floated out upside down from the schooner. With only the carcass of
the ship's pet pig which they had picked up and what rain fell from
the sky for sustenance, the boat went drifting off. I am not sure
that they had an oar, but Mr. Lauterbach caught a native
sleeping-mat that was floating on the water; the castaways took
turns in holding up this mat, which thus served as a sail. They
could not hope for a rescue in these unfrequented waters, so
Mr. Lauterbach tried to work toward an inhabited island with only
the position of sun and stars for guidance. When he did make land,
after an incredible length of time to have lived without food or
water, there were, as I remember, only himself, one man and a
demented woman left living in the boat. None of our party, except,
perhaps, Ah Foo, would have been able to endure such hardships--if,
indeed, we had not gone straight down with the schooner--the most
likely thing to happen. So it was as well that I asked to go back
to our meagre fare to await the _Equator_.

_16th._--Early this morning we were lying outside the lagoon of Apemama, just alongside the little island at the entrance. There was no sign of life, so, after waiting awhile, a boat with Mr. Henderson, Tin Jack, and Louis went to find out the reason. They came back with the news that the King was away visiting his island of Kuria, so off we started to hunt for him. Arrived at Kuria, a boat came out to tell us that the King was ill from the sequelæ of measles; also it brought an insulting letter to Mr. Henderson, signed by the King but written in a white man's hand; Mr. Henderson, very angry, showed the letter to Louis, who proposed that he should be present at the interview with the King. To this Mr. Henderson consented. Of course we all went on shore; Louis and Lloyd and I took our presents with us; from Louis a chibouk, from Lloyd a filled cartridge-belt with a sheathed dagger, mine being the King's own flag after my design. I thought it very generous of Mr. Henderson that he advised me to keep my flag back in case the King came on board, so we might get a better effect by breaking his colours man-of-war fashion--this after the insulting letter and before what promised to be a very unpleasant interview.

Our black fellows pulled us across in splendid style, passing the King's returning messenger, who made a fine though unsuccessful spurt to catch up with us. As we rowed along the beach surprised cries of "Pani! Pani!" (Fanny! Fanny!) ran through the _moniaps_ (native houses) where the King's wives were sitting. The King, looking older and thinner, received us in the native fashion with no apparent astonishment. The presents were given, and then Lloyd and I left the party to get their explanations over, the King smoking his chibouk the while with great enjoyment, while the cartridge-belt hung over his shoulder.

We soon found the _moniap_ of the harem and sat down beside the King's mother. The women received us with fervent expressions of welcome and pleasure. We passed through several houses on our way, and in every one our attention was called to a "devil box" similar to one we bought from the medicine-man at Apemama, then the only one in the three islands. In the centre of the big _moniap_ was a circular piece of "devil work" with a ring of sacred white shells about it. Tin Jack followed after us, and we got him to act as interpreter. It seems they have been suffering here severely with measles, though there were only four deaths, two men and two women. Children escaped with slight attacks, but grown people were very ill, the King himself being at one time very near death. The first question put to us by the women was concerning Louis's health; then what had we done with our devil box? I fear that our accidental reconversion of Butaritari to Christianity[16] has been offset by our having inadvertently strengthened these Apemamans in their heathen superstitions. A sick foreigner comes, is cured by means of a devil box manipulated by a "dog-star" (doctor), and naturally he desires to possess an article so valuable, going so high in his offers for it as the worth of a ton of copra. The foreigner is a very clever and learned man. "He savee too much," they say. And when measles falls upon the land the first thought is the devil box, and a praying place for devil worship is erected in the very centre of their _moniap_. I wish I could find out if they really worship the spirit of evil or whether, having been enlightened by the missionaries, they have not given their god that name. If the latter, how much better to have accepted their god and shown them where they had mistaken his attributes? And that reminds me that when I heard the people with the scaly disease on the other islands erroneously called lepers I wondered if that could have been the leprosy of the Bible that was miraculously cured. The darkest people turn quite white when covered with the scales.

[16] Butaritari had lapsed into heathenism when we arrived there,
but, by showing a magic lantern which included some Bible pictures
among the slides, we quite unconsciously reconverted the whole
island, King and all.

But to return to Tembinoka, the King. Louis, fortunately, was able to clear up the misunderstanding caused, no doubt, by a white man, though the King loyally refused to give the name. Louis proposed that the King should apologise for the insulting letter, at which his Majesty looked very black, indeed; but when Louis told him that under the same circumstances an English gentleman would certainly offer an apology, his countenance cleared, the apology was handsomely made and accepted, and so, all being well, the King proposed to go on board. We wished some of our party to be on the ship to break out the flag at the right moment, so hunted up our black boys who were filling bags with grass for the ship's sheep; Mr. Hird went off with them, and the rest of us begged permission to accompany the King, who invited us to ride out with him to his boat in the royal litter. I was told to get in first, then Lloyd, then Louis and Mr. Henderson together, and then his Majesty. The black boys passed us on the way with Mr. Hird, and afraid that the flag might be forgotten by some mischance, Mr. Henderson shouted: "Hird, elevate the royal bunting." That was because the King would have understood had he said: "Break the flag." The black boys put their elegant backs into it and were in time to send up the flag in fine style. Every one cried out in admiration; it could not have had a better setting than the "long, low, rakish black" steamer. The King, who steered his own boat, and was greatly pleased to learn that the Hawaiian King was a good sailor as well as himself, had been smiling on Louis, and Louis on him, in the most melting way. He now directed his attention to the flag, and there was no doubt but the sight gave him the keenest gratification. We came down to the cabin, where "champagne was opened," and then Mr. Henderson left Louis and me alone with the King.

The moment that Mr. Henderson was gone the apathy that in these islands "doth hedge in a king" broke down. The dear old man clasped Louis in one arm and me in the other and kissed us and wept over us for joy. He told us how, day after day, he looked through his glass out over the sea pretending to himself that he could see us coming back. Sometimes, he said, he deluded himself so far that he beheld our very faces. This day he had been looking out as usual and was not surprised when our boat came near; he had seen it all like that before in his day-dreams. Suddenly he recognised a particular dress I wore that he had given me. "Then I felt like this," he said, making a gasping sound of surprise and emotion--"O-o-oh!"--and pressing his hand on his breast with a dramatic gesture. Often, he said, he made an errand over to his taro pits that he might look upon the place where our houses had stood. "I too much sorry," he said; "I want see you."

The time came to say good-bye until the _Janet_ came back on her return voyage; the flag was hauled down and presented to the King, and he went off in his boat with a very depressed countenance.

Reuben is now called "the governor." As we were sitting at dinner some one said: "The anchor's coming up. There's a man at the port wants to speak to you, Mr. Stevenson." We all looked up, and there, grinning like an ape, was "Uncle Parker!" (Uncle Parker was a servant the King had lent us when we visited him before.) He thrust as much of himself through the port-hole as was possible, and we all climbed up and shook hands with him. He told us that there had been further trouble with the impudent cook, and in consequence the King had shot him. Louis gave Uncle Parker a magnificent gift of six sticks of tobacco. The King said he had sent us ten mats by Captain Reid. On this island is a house of refuge, an octagon to which criminals may run. I am told that the people have a system of palmistry.

_17th._--Maraki. We stopped at the wrong settlement, and, as men were seen on the beach, Mr. Henderson sent a boat for them in case they wished to go on with us to the other settlement. One was a stranger, the other an old friend known as the "passenger".[17] We heard his meagre news and he heard ours, and drank stout with Louis and Lloyd. It was pleasant to meet him again. He expects to be in Samoa in a twelvemonth. Left the silk dress, "blackee coat," and other presents with him to forward to Maka and the Nan Toks, and I gave a gold ring to the Hawaiian missionary for his wife. This missionary expects to return to Honolulu on the _Morning Star_ in company with Maka, so our presents will fall in at the right moment. Louis also sent one of his photographs to a young Hawaiian I met under peculiar circumstances when we were here before.[18] We stayed a very short time, and then, with several sails set, took our way toward Jaluit. A sheep and a pig struck attitudes and dared each other to fight--a comical sight. Both were delighted when the strained situation was broken by a chance passerby. The black boys are playing cards in the forecastle. Mr. Hird and Foo-foo (black boy) sang in the evening.

[17] We were forced to kidnap "the passenger," Paul Hoeflich, a
very pleasant, agreeable German, when we were on the _Equator_.
Mr. Hoeflich had taken passage on the schooner from Butaritari
to another island, only a few miles distant, where he meant to
start business as an independent trader. All his worldly goods,
including the stuff for stocking his store, were on board the
_Equator_. It was the beginning of the bad season, and we had
continual contrary winds with heavy seas. In vain we cruised
round and round his island--we could not make a landing. We
were losing much time, so my husband informed Mr. Hoeflich
that he must join us in a trip to Samoa, our next destination.
It so fell out that Mr. Hoeflich, who had helped greatly to
lighten the tedium of a long voyage in bad weather (we arrived
at Apia in a somewhat wrecked condition, with one foretopmast
gone), took an immense liking to Samoa and remained there
instead of returning to the Gilberts. He has prospered
exceedingly and blesses the day he was kidnapped. At this
time, when we met him he had come back to the line islands
for a final arrangement of his affairs preliminary to settling
permanently in Samoa.

[18] As we neared the end of our walk we came into quite a
large village. The aspect of the people was more savage and
ugly than we had heretofore seen, the faces brutal and
unintelligent. Half-grown children, and, indeed, some more
than half-grown, were entirely naked. The young boys were
like little old men, their faces hard and their eyes haggard
and anxious. I saw one with St. Vitus's dance, several with
hydrocephalus, and a number who had affections of the
eyes. Many of the little girls had their heads entirely
shaved, with the exception of a small tassel at the nape of
the neck which gave a very curious effect. The older ones
wore their hair bushed out to a great size. Almost all wore
necklaces of braided hair with an oval bit of red or white
shell hanging to it like a locket. One haughty, impudent,
fat young fellow, evidently a beau, swaggered about with a
white handkerchief, twisted most ingenuously into a crown,
on his head. Almost all of the women wore a girdle of flat,
round beads (made of cocoanut shells) above the _ridi_.

As we walked along the village street the whole population
joined us. We stopped at the sight of a church neatly made
of wattled cocoanut leaves bearing at the peak of its front
gable a belfry of braided leaves. There was actually a bell
in this belfry which looked as though a breath would disperse
it. The floor of the church is covered with mats, which are
renewed each new year. A very odd thing was an arrangement
of strings which, inside of the building, crossed each
other with a sort of pattern just above a tall man's height.
All along these strings, at regular intervals, strips of
bright-hued calico were tied--I thought in an attempt at
ornamentation, but was told it was for a game of the
children. I should like to see the game played. Indeed, I
do not believe it to be a game. (We found afterward that
these decorations were for the purpose of propitiating
"chinch," a terrible evil spirit--the devil, in fact.) We
asked for the missionary; a fine-looking young Hawaiian
came up to us, saluting us with the pleasant "_Aloha!_"
His house was our appointed place of meeting with the
captain. The missionary, we were told, was in council
with the "old men."

This island is a republic governed by the "old men." To
arrive at the distinction of being an "old man," one must
be either very rich or have performed some prodigy of
valour in war time. Accompanied by the Hawaiian, we
wandered along to the Council House. The missionary
looked extremely like a mixture of native and Chinese--a
large, imposing man with a long, thin, white moustache
and thick, grey hair. As we sat outside in the circle
surrounding the Council House, conversing with the
Hawaiian, it occurred to me that I might buy one of the
cocoanut beaded girdles worn by most of the women. The
Hawaiian turned to one of them and asked what she would
take for her girdle; a dollar was the answer; at that I
handed a half dollar and two quarters to the young man
who, saying that it was too much, gave me back half the
money. "They sell them for two fish-hooks," he said,
"and this is simply extortion; however, as she has seen
the money she will do her best to get it, so you might
as well give her the half dollar." The exchange was made,
and after a moment's confabulation with a crowd of her
neighbours the woman demanded the other half dollar. At
this the Hawaiian asked for the piece of money she had,
took it, and gave back the girdle. In an instant the
whole place was in an uproar. Men bounded up with
furious gestures; the old men in the Council House
shouted with threatening yells, while the Hawaiian,
leaping to his feet, his eyes flashing like a cat's in
the dark, defied them all. Fearful that harm might come
to him after we were gone, I begged him to let me give
the people whatever they might ask for, but he would not
hear of it, and matters were the worse for my offer, as
the people evidently understood it had been made.
Finally, leaving the crowd in a state of ferment, we
walked away with the Hawaiian to his very pleasant house,
he entertaining us on the way with a list of the laws
made that day by the "old men." They were as follows:
"Dancing, one dollar fine; concealed weapons, five
dollars; murder, fifteen; stealing, twenty-five, and
telling a lie, fifty dollars." Pretty soon the crowd
began surging round us; there was more furious talk,
the Hawaiian looking very fine as he walked toward the
mass of people, shaking his fists and, I am bound to
say, interlarding his language with English oaths. When
he had forced the crowd back by, I really think, the
fire of his eye, he laughed in their faces contemptuously
and turned to me translating the meaning of the scene.
The "old men" had made another law, against him, placing
him under tapu so that he could neither trade nor be
traded with. I felt very miserable at being the innocent
cause of so much trouble. He said he did not care a rush
and meant to leave the island anyway. He had married a
native of Maraki, bringing her home to visit her people,
with whom she had proposed they should stop, but now, he
said, she was as eager to go as he was. When we left he
presented us with a girdle that he had somehow got hold
of and his wife gave me a young fowl. I, very fortunately,
had a handsome wreath of flowers on my hat which I took
off and gave the wife. It was amusing to watch the dandy
of the village, the haughty and insolent fat young man who
had been too languid to see us before, trying to keep all
speculation out of his eyes when I passed over the wreath.
He could not do it. The red imitation currants held his
gaze like fish-hooks.

We sailed away quite gaily from Maraki, fell into a calm,
and had to turn and come back again, so had yet another day,
and all together four, before we really got away. All the
time, more or less, we were overrun by the traders, who came
to beg drink and buy and sell.