{"collection":"folklore-oral-tradition","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_76974/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_76974","id":"gutenberg_76974","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/76974","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Archaeology & Anthropology","Category: History - Modern (1750+)","Category: Travel Writing","Fiji","Folklore -- Fiji"],"text":"[Illustration]\n\nAT HOME IN FIJI\n\n[Illustration: OUR HOME IN FIJI.\n\n_Frontispiece._]\n\n\n\n\n AT HOME IN FIJI\n\n BY\n C. F. GORDON CUMMING\n AUTHOR OF \u2018A LADY\u2019S CRUISE IN A FRENCH MAN-OF-WAR\u2019\n \u2018FROM THE HEBRIDES TO THE HIMALAYAS,\u2019 ETC.\n\n NEW EDITION, COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME\n\n _WITH MAP AND ILLUSTRATIONS_\n\n New York\n A. C. ARMSTRONG & SON, 714 BROADWAY\n MDCCCLXXXII\n\n\n\n\n TO\n\n DEAR LITTLE NEVIL\n\n AND\n\n GEORGE HAMILTON GORDON\n\n THESE NOTES OF ONE OF THE MANY SUNNY HOMES\n\n OF THEIR HAPPY CHILDHOOD\n\n ARE LOVINGLY DEDICATED\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n PAGE\n\n INTRODUCTION, 1\n\n CHAPTER I.\n\n The voyage out, 9\n\n CHAPTER II.\n\n Sydney\u2014Camellia trees\u2014Orange gardens, 12\n\n CHAPTER III.\n\n Life in the Blue Mountains\u2014Death of Commodore Goodenough\u2014Life\n in the bush, 19\n\n CHAPTER IV.\n\n Arrive in Fiji\u2014Tropical luxury in Levuka\u2014King Thakombau\u2014Plague\n of measles, 26\n\n CHAPTER V.\n\n Levuka\u2014The harbour\u2014Coral-reef\u2014Churches\u2014Animal life\u2014Plants\u2014How\n to brew yangona\u2014Picnics\u2014Spear-throwing, 35\n\n CHAPTER VI.\n\n Fijian spelling\u2014The future capital\u2014A planter\u2019s life\u2014Foreign\n labour\u2014Quaint postage-stamps, 53\n\n CHAPTER VII.\n\n A canoe adventure\u2014Sharks\u2014Fever\u2014The feast of worms\u2014Results of\n mission work\u2014No means of locomotion\u2014God\u2019s acre, 61\n\n CHAPTER VIII.\n\n Life on Viti Levu\u2014Suva\u2014A floral clock\u2014The Rewa river\u2014Obsolete\n customs\u2014First night in a native house, 70\n\n CHAPTER IX.\n\n Bathing _al fresco_\u2014The Upper Rewa\u2014Barter\u2014Native houses\u2014A\n funeral\u2014Weddings\u2014Grace, 80\n\n CHAPTER X.\n\n Upper Rewa\u2014Sunday among the converts\u2014School examinations\u2014A\n \u201cmissionary meeting\u201d\u2014Savage ornaments\u2014Red tape\u2014_M\u00e9k\u00e9s_\u2014Evening\n prayer\u2014Marriages, 85\n\n CHAPTER XI.\n\n Christmas in Great Fiji\u2014Pig feasts\u2014Weddings\u2014Fijian\n names\u2014Cannibal dainties\u2014Christmas chimes\u2014Sneezing\u2014\u201cOur Father\u201d\n in Fijian, 96\n\n CHAPTER XII.\n\n Quite alone in a mountain village\u2014Return to Rewa\u2014Basaltic\n pillars\u2014Rewa pottery\u2014Bau\u2014New Year\u2019s eve\u2014King Thakombau as an\n elder of the Wesleyan Church\u2014Pre-Christian times, 107\n\n CHAPTER XIII.\n\n A strange volcanic isle\u2014Joeli Mbulu, a Tongan apostle\u2014The\n conversion of the people of Ono\u2014Thakombau\u2019s canoe\u2014A royal\n gardener\u2014A small hurricane\u2014Early prayers\u2014Breakfast on\n Thangalei\u2014Between the breakers\u2014At home at Nasova, 121\n\n CHAPTER XIV.\n\n Life at Nasova\u2014Farmyard\u2014Convict thatchers\u2014Native festival at\n Bau\u2014Return to Nasova\u2014Battles with crabs\u2014Beginning of cannibal\n disturbance\u2014Fijian fairies\u2014A storm, 134\n\n CHAPTER XV.\n\n Government House\u2014Pets\u2014Curios\u2014Crabs\u2014Native police\u2014Death of Mrs\n de Ricci, 147\n\n CHAPTER XVI.\n\n Good Friday in Fiji\u2014Isle Koro\u2014Planters\u2019 Houses\u2014Labour\u2014Making\n native cloth\u2014Great feasts\u2014Weddings\u2014Salaries of Wesleyan\n missionaries and teachers, 156\n\n CHAPTER XVII.\n\n Isle Ngau\u2014Mud-crabs\u2014Albinos\u2014Bathing in the tropics\u2014An earnest\n congregation\u2014A typical village\u2014Fijian students\u2014The burnt\n waters\u2014A narrow escape\u2014Wreck of the Fitzroy, 173\n\n CHAPTER XVIII.\n\n Taviuni\u2014Tui Thakow\u2014Missionary perils\u2014Their fruit of peace\u2014Ratu\n Lala\u2014Rambi Isle\u2014Gipsy life\u2014Vanua Levu\u2014A mission conference\u2014The\n isle of Kia\u2014A village feast, 191\n\n CHAPTER XIX.\n\n The Chief of Mbua\u2014Feudal rights\u2014A night in a miserable\n village\u2014Church _\u00e0 la_ St Columba\u2014Night on a desert isle\u2014Savu\n Savu\u2014Boiling springs\u2014Their use\u2014Past and future, 211\n\n CHAPTER XX.\n\n Nasova\u2014The mountain war\u2014A year\u2019s progress\u2014Fijian homage, 219\n\n CHAPTER XXI.\n\n A planter\u2019s house\u2014Angora goats\u2014A lovely shore\u2014Sericulture\u2014The\n mosquito plague, 235\n\n CHAPTER XXII.\n\n The pottery districts of Viti Levu\u2014A cannibal\u2019s register\u2014A\n night in a corn-shed\u2014Funeral of Ratu Taivita, 243\n\n CHAPTER XXIII.\n\n Start for New Zealand\u2014Extinct volcanoes\u2014Sir George Grey\u2019s\n treasures\u2014Tree-kangaroos, 260\n\n CHAPTER XXIV.\n\n Gold-mines\u2014A new city\u2014Native defences\u2014Kauri forest\u2014A hard\n ride\u2014Kati Kati\u2014Tauranga Gate Pah, and cemetery\u2014Ohinemutu\u2014A\n volcanic region, 272\n\n CHAPTER XXV.\n\n Bewildering new surroundings\u2014The Maori dragon\u2014Breakfast at\n Wairoa\u2014The mission-house\u2014The hot lake\u2014White terraces\u2014Sulphur\n and mud volcanoes\u2014An unjust claim resisted\u2014Champions from the\n Antipodes, 290\n\n CHAPTER XXVI.\n\n Fijian rivers\u2014Samoan envoys\u2014Death of a true apostle\u2014A\n revival\u2014Making a race-course\u2014Mission to New Britain, 307\n\n CHAPTER XXVII.\n\n Various plantations\u2014Crotons\u2014Foreign labour\u2014Green beetles\u2014Loma\n Loma\u2014A Tongan colony\u2014Hot springs, 328\n\n CHAPTER XXVIII.\n\n Notes on Fijian folk-lore\u2014Legend of the rat and cuttle-fish:\n the crane and the crab: essay of roast-pig: of gigantic\n birds\u2014Serpents worshipped as incarnate gods\u2014Sacred stones\n worshipped\u2014Mythology and witchcraft, 345\n\n APPENDIX, 356\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\n PAGE\n\n OUR HOME IN FIJI, _Frontispiece_\n\n ISLES OF OVALAU, MOTURIKI, BAU, AND VIWA. FROM VITI LEVU, 111\n\n HOT SPRINGS, ISLE NGAU, 180\n\n A CHIEF\u2019S KITCHEN, 208\n\n MAP, _At the end_\n\n\n\n\nNOTE.\u2014CANNIBAL FORK.\n\n\nThe Cannibal Fork represented on the binding of this book is a facsimile\nof a fair average specimen. Some of the chiefs had forks eighteen inches\nlong, of dark polished wood, with handles richly carved.\n\n * * * * *\n\nWith reference to the vegetables specially reserved for cannibal feasts,\nDr Seemann describes the Boro dina (_Solanum anthropophagorum_) as a\nbushy shrub, seldom higher than six feet, with a dark glossy foliage,\nand berries of the shape and colour of tomatoes. This fruit has a faint\naromatic smell, and is occasionally prepared like tomato-sauce. The\nleaves of this plant, and also of two middle-sized trees (the Mala wathi,\n_Trophis anthropophagorum_, and the Tudano, _Omalanthus pedicellatus_),\nwere wrapped round the _bokola_ and baked with it on heated stones.\n\n\n\n\nAT HOME IN FIJI.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nIn the autumn of 1874 it was announced that Fiji had been formally\nannexed by Great Britain: in other words, that her Majesty\u2019s Government\nhad finally decided to accept the offer of cession of the group\nrepeatedly made by the highest chiefs of Fiji. To this course they were\nimpelled chiefly by the conviction of their own utter inability to cope\nwith certain unscrupulous white men, who had here established a footing\nbeyond reach of English law, and who, to promote their own selfish\nschemes, did not scruple, by every means in their power, to foster the\njealousies of the chiefs, and so to keep up the bloody intertribal wars\nby which the lands were laid waste, and the population decimated.\n\nIn the prolonged struggle for power, two great chiefs rose\npre-eminent\u2014namely, Maafu, a powerful Tongan chief, who ruled supreme in\none portion of the group; and Thakombau, who (at the instigation of the\nforeigners who had formed themselves into a government of which he was\nthe nominal head) had been formally crowned as Tui Viti\u2014_i.e._, King of\nFiji. The position thus assumed by Thakombau proved, however, untenable.\nAn adverse party of white men opposed every measure which the Government\nstrove to enforce; and at length this nominal king, then upwards of\nseventy years of age, wearied by these unprofitable contentions,\npersuaded the other great chiefs to crave the protection of England\u2019s\nQueen. Their petition was at first rejected; but, when repeated as an act\nof absolute and unconditional cession, it was deemed wise to accept it.\n\nSir Hercules Robinson, G.C.M.G., Governor of New South Wales, was\ndeputed by the Home Government to visit the group in person. Accordingly,\non 12th September 1874, he sailed from Sydney in H.M.S. Pearl, Commodore\nGoodenough, and arrived in Levuka (the headquarters of the white\npopulation of Fiji) on the 23d inst. Two days later he had a formal\ninterview with Thakombau, in which he explained her Majesty\u2019s willingness\nto accept the responsibility, and to endeavour to exercise her authority\nin such a manner as should best secure the prosperity and happiness of\nthe people; adding, that such conditions as had been at first attached\nwould render impracticable the proper government of the country. To this\nThakombau replied\u2014\n\n\u201cThe Queen is right; conditions are not chief-like. I was myself from the\nfirst opposed to them, but was overruled. If I give a chief a canoe, and\nhe knows that I expect something from him, I do not say, \u2018I give you this\ncanoe on condition of your only sailing it on certain days, of your not\nletting such and such a man on to it, or of your only using a particular\nkind of rope with it;\u2019 but I give him the canoe right out, and trust to\nhis generosity and good faith to make me the return which he knows I\nexpect. If I were to attach conditions, he would say, \u2018I do not care to\nbe bothered with your canoe; keep it yourself.\u2019\n\n\u201cWhy should we have any anxiety about the future? What is the future?\nBritain.\n\n\u201cAny Fijian chief who refuses to cede cannot have much wisdom. If matters\nremain as they are, Fiji will become like a piece of drift-wood on the\nsea, and be picked up by the first passer-by.\n\n\u201cThe whites who have come to Fiji are a bad lot. They are mere stalkers\non the beach. The wars here have been far more the result of interference\nof intruders than the fault of the inhabitants.\n\n\u201cOf one thing I am assured, that if we do not cede Fiji, the white\nstalkers on the beach, the cormorants, will open their maws and swallow\nus.\n\n\u201cThe white residents are going about influencing the minds of Tui Thakau\nand others, so as to prevent annexation, fearing that in case order is\nestablished a period may be put to their lawless proceedings.\n\n\u201cBy annexation the two races, white and black, will be bound together,\nand it will be impossible to sever them. The \u2018interlacing\u2019 has come.\nFijians, as a nation, are of an unstable character; and a white man\nwho wishes to get anything out of a Fijian, if he does not succeed in\nhis object to-day will try again to-morrow, until the Fijian is either\nwearied out or over-persuaded, and gives in. But law will bind us\ntogether, and the stronger nation will lend stability to the weaker.\u201d\n\nSir Hercules Robinson next proceeded in H.M.S. Pearl to visit the great\nchief Maafu at his capital, Loma-Loma. Tui Thakau, another powerful\nchief, was present; and both declared their full assent to the cession\nand to the document already signed by Thakombau, which runs as follows:\u2014\n\n\u201cWe, King of Fiji, together with other high chiefs of Fiji, hereby give\nour country, Fiji, unreservedly to her Britannic Majesty, Queen of Great\nBritain and Ireland. And we trust and repose fully in her that she will\nrule Fiji justly and affectionately, that we may continue to live in\npeace and prosperity.\u201d\n\nFinally, on the 10th of October 1874, all the great chiefs assembled at\nNasova (which was, and still continues to be, the seat of government, and\nis situated one mile from the town of Levuka), and there signed the deed\nof cession.\n\nThe signatures affixed are as follows:\u2014\n\n CAKOBAU, R.\n _Tui Viti and Vunivalu._\n MAAFAU.\n TUI CAKAU.\n RATU EPELI.\n VAKAWALETABUA.\n _Tui Bua._\n SAVENAKA.\n ISIKELI.\n ROKO TUI DREKETI.\n NACAGILEVU.\n RATU KINI.\n RITOVA.\n KATUNIVERE.\n MATANITOBUA.\n HERCULES ROBINSON.\n\nThus did Fiji pass from the dominion of misrule to the orderly position\nof a British colony,\u2014a change touchingly alluded to by the old king (or,\nas he is called by his own people, the Vuni Valu, or Root of War), who\non this occasion desired his Prime Minister, Mr Thurston, to present his\nwar-club to Queen Victoria. Mr Thurston interpreted the king\u2019s words as\nfollows:\u2014\n\n\u201cYour Excellency,\u2014Before finally ceding his country to her Majesty the\nQueen of Great Britain and Ireland, the king desires, through your\nExcellency, to give her Majesty the only thing he possesses that may\ninterest her.\n\n\u201cThe king gives her Majesty his old and favourite war-club, the former,\nand, until lately the only known, law of Fiji.\n\n\u201cIn abandoning club law, and adopting the forms and principles of\ncivilised societies, he laid by his old weapon and covered it with the\nemblems of peace. Many of his people, whole tribes, died and passed away\nunder the old law; but hundreds of thousands still survive to learn and\nenjoy the newer and better state of things. The king adds only a few\nwords. With this emblem of the past he sends his love to her Majesty,\nsaying that he fully confides in her and in her children, who, succeeding\nher, shall become kings of Fiji, to exercise a watchful control over the\nwelfare of his children and people; and who, having survived the barbaric\nlaw and age, are now submitting themselves, under her Majesty\u2019s rule, to\ncivilisation.\u201d\n\nThe king then handed the club to his Excellency, who informed Thakombau\nthat he would not fail to transmit to the Queen the historic gift\nwhich he desired to present to her, and that he would at the same time\ncommunicate to her Majesty, _verbatim_, the trustful and gratifying\nmessage by which the gift was accompanied.\n\nThis magnificent club, together with Thakombau\u2019s huge _yangona_ bowl, is\nnow in the safe keeping of Mr Franks (of the British Museum), and is kept\nwith the Christie Collection in Victoria Street. Both club and bowl are\nat least twice the size of any others we have seen in the isles.\n\nFive days later Sir Hercules held a farewell meeting with the chiefs,\nmany of whom had hitherto met only as open foes. In closing his farewell\nspeech, he said\u2014\n\n\u201cI hope that all differences and animosities will now be forgotten and\nsubdued. The Vuni Valu\u2019s (Root of War) war-club has been sent with a\ndutiful and loving message to our Queen. I hope all other weapons of\nstrife have in like manner been buried at the foot of the staff upon\nwhich we have raised the Union Jack.\u201d\n\nTo this the two chiefs, hitherto rivals for the supreme power, thus\nreplied. First spoke Thakombau.\n\n\u201cI hope that all present will now understand that they are her Majesty\u2019s\nsubjects and servants, and that, as the Governor has said, their future\nis in their own hands. They will be judged according to their behaviour\nand their deserts, and according to such judgment they will stand or fall.\n\n\u201cWe know that we are not here now simply as an independent body of Fijian\nchiefs, but as subordinate agents of the British Crown; and being bound\ntogether by strength and power, that strength and power will be able to\novercome anything which tends to interfere with or interrupt the present\nunity.\n\n\u201cAny chief attempting to pursue a course of disloyalty must expect to be\ndealt with on his own merits, and not to escape by any subterfuge, or by\nrelying upon any Fijian customs, or upon his high family connections.\u201d\n\nMaafu then said\u2014\n\n\u201cWhat more can any of us say? The unity of to-day has been our desire\nfor years. I have now been twenty years in Fiji, and I have never before\nseen such a sight as I see to-day\u2014Fiji actually and truly united. We\ntried a government ourselves; we did not succeed. That has passed away.\nAnother and a better and more permanent state of things has been brought\ninto existence. I believe that I speak the mind of all present when I say\nthat we are really and truly united in heart and will, and we are all\ngratified with what we have heard. We are true men, and will return to\nour homes knowing that the unity of Fiji is a fact, and that peace and\nprosperity will follow.\u201d\n\nOn the eve of Sir Hercules\u2019s departure, a deputation of the Wesleyan\nMission waited upon him to express their intense satisfaction with the\ndeed of cession; but for which, they considered that their work as\nChristian missionaries would have received serious injury. They added:\n\u201cWe venture to remind your Excellency that it is not forty years since\nmissionaries representing the British Wesleyan Churches came to Fiji,\nthen in a state of savage heathenism; and that, but for the blessing of\nGod upon their labours, there would have been no British Fiji at the\npresent day.\u201d\n\nSir Hercules\u2019s reply must have been truly gratifying to his hearers. Its\nconclusion was\u2014\n\n\u201cI fervently trust that a new era has now dawned upon Fiji, and that\nunder British rule the moral as well as the material progress of the\nnew colony may, by the blessing of Providence, be effectually secured.\nThe great social advances which have already been made within the last\nforty years from savage heathenism, are due to the self-denying and\nunostentatious labours of the Wesleyan Church; and I can therefore\nheartily wish to your missionary enterprise in this country continued\nvitality and success.\n\n\u201cWith renewed thanks for the good wishes which you are pleased to express\nfor myself personally, I have, &c.,\n\n \u201cHERCULES ROBINSON.\n\n \u201cTo the Rev. JOSEPH WATERHOUSE,\n \u201d SAMUEL BROOKES,\n \u201d D. S. WYLIE.\u201d\n\nWith reference to the provision to be made for the chiefs who had thus\nvoluntarily resigned their rights, without knowing to what extent these\nmight be really taken from them, Sir Hercules suggested that Thakombau\nshould receive a pension of \u00a31500 a-year, and a present of \u00a31000 to buy\na much-coveted little vessel for his own use; that in the event of his\ndeath, his queen, Andi Lydia, should continue to receive \u00a31000 a-year\nfor her life. Their three sons would probably find employment under\nGovernment, with suitable salaries; as would also be the case with the\nprincipal chiefs, all of whom would continue to hold their office of\nRokos of the twelve Provinces\u2014a native dignity held in much reverence.\n\nIn January 1875 the Hon. Sir Arthur Hamilton Gordon, K.C.M.G. (son\nof George, fourth Earl of Aberdeen), was appointed first Governor of\nFiji,\u2014an archipelago containing seventy or eighty inhabited islands, some\nof which are of considerable size, the largest, Viti Levu, or Great Fiji,\nbeing about ninety miles long by fifty broad, nearly the same area as the\ncounties of Kent, Sussex, Surrey, Middlesex, Berkshire, and Hampshire.\nThe next in size, Vanua Levu, the Great Land, is upwards of one hundred\nmiles long by twenty-five wide, somewhat smaller than Cornwall,\nDevonshire, and Somerset. Taviuni and Khandavu are each twenty-five\nmiles long; while Bau, the native capital, is scarcely a mile in length.\nBesides these, there are upwards of one hundred and fifty uninhabited\nislets; and each of the principal islands forms a centre round which\ncluster from twenty to thirty minor isles, forming groups as distinct\nand as widely separated as are the Orkneys, the Hebrides, and the Scilly\nIsles, and their people are equally unknown to one another. The climate\nis, for the tropics, unusually healthy. At the time of the cession, they\nwere inhabited by about 1500 whites and 150,000 natives.[1] It was June\n1875 ere Sir Arthur reached the colony, and, to quote his own words[2]\u2014\n\n \u201cThe state of things which disclosed itself to me on my\n arrival was not encouraging. A terrible pestilence, heedlessly\n admitted, had swept away one-third of the entire native\n population. Though its violence had diminished, its ravages had\n not wholly ceased. Even where it had passed by, it had left\n behind it terror and despair. The same cause had carried off\n many of the imported labourers of the planters, who, from a\n variety of causes, were themselves, for the most part, reduced\n to the greatest straits. The revenue had fallen short of even\n the modest estimate of Sir H. Robinson, whilst the expenditure\n had largely exceeded his anticipations. The introduction of\n labour from other parts of the Pacific had almost ceased.\n The season had been unfavourable for agriculture, wet, and\n unhealthy, and gloom and discontent pervaded all classes.\n\n \u201cThe white settlers had apparently imagined that, by some\n magical process, the assumption of sovereignty by Great\n Britain was to be followed by an immediate change from\n poverty to wealth, from struggling indigence to prosperity;\n that their claims to land would be at once allowed; that an\n abundant supply of labour would be at once found for them;\n and that their claims to supremacy over the natives, which\n the Government of Cakobau\u2014whatever its faults\u2014had steadily\n refused to recognise, would be at once acknowledged. They\n were, therefore, bitterly disappointed to find their hopes not\n realised.\n\n \u201cThe natives were cowed and disheartened by the pestilence,\n which they believed to have been introduced purposely to\n destroy them,\u2014a belief encouraged, I am ashamed to say, by some\n of our own countrymen, and which was probably the main cause of\n the disturbances in the Highlands of Viti Levu in the following\n year. They were perplexed by reiterated assurances, from the\n whites living among them, that by the mere fact of annexation\n to Great Britain their own laws and customs had been abolished;\n that their rules of succession, and for the transmission of\n property, had no longer any existence; that many of their\n cherished habits were illegal; that their lands had become\n the property of the Crown; and that they would themselves\n be expected, if not required, to labour on white men\u2019s\n plantations. They were told, moreover, that all distinctions of\n rank among them were at an end,\u2014a notification more perplexing\n than pleasing, in its suddenness, to the people generally, and\n which naturally caused irritation and distrust among the higher\n chiefs.\n\n \u201cA third element in the population, the immigrant labourers\n from other parts of Polynesia, whose contracts of service had\n long expired, but whose employers had no means to send them\n back to their homes, and who had remained, in some cases, for\n many years in by no means voluntary servitude, were exasperated\n by the bad faith they had experienced.\n\n \u201cAt the end of the year 1875 I found myself with a revenue\n of \u00a316,000, from which I had to meet an expenditure of over\n \u00a370,000, and at the head of a dissatisfied and impoverished\n white population of some 1500 persons, in the midst of a native\n population nearly one hundred times as large, suspicious,\n watchful, and uneasy; while on but too many estates, bands of\n wrongfully detained immigrants formed a real, though apparently\n unrecognised, source of danger.\n\n \u201cIt is not my object, in the present paper, to narrate the\n steps taken in the administration of the government since that\n time. Suffice it to say, generally, that the revenue of the\n colony has swelled rapidly from \u00a316,000 in 1875 to \u00a338,000\n in 1876; \u00a347,000 in 1877, and over \u00a361,000 in 1878,[3] while\n the expenditure has been reduced to a level with the income;\n that the receipts from customs, which were, in 1875, but\n \u00a38000, amounted in 1878, under practically the same tariff,\n to \u00a320,000; that the imports have nearly doubled in value,\n and the exports (which exceed the imports) have quite done\n so; that the Polynesian labourers, whose term of service had\n expired, have been conveyed home and replaced by labour newly\n recruited; that more than 800 land titles have been settled\n after laborious and minute investigation; that measures have\n been passed by the Legislative Council which do honour to those\n who framed them, and compare favourably with those of many\n older colonies; that the Government service has been organised,\n Courts of Law established; that a dangerous disturbance has\n been put down quickly, cheaply, and effectually; that capital\n is being invested; and that, after a careful investigation,\n extending over more than a year, it has been reported to me,\n by most competent and most cautious scientific authority, that\n the annual value of the agricultural exports of the colony,\n when its powers of production have been fully developed, will\n probably exceed \u00a310,000,000 sterling.\u201d\n\nAfter alluding to the purely native organisation of Bulis, Rokos, and\nother functionaries whom Sir Arthur found it desirable to continue to\nemploy in the same capacities, in the administration of local government,\nand in carrying out various measures, he goes on to speak of the system\non which these were framed.\n\n \u201cIt was always borne in mind that these regulations had, to a\n great extent, to be administered by the natives themselves, and\n that a code which they thoroughly understood and had taken part\n in preparing, and which was in harmony with their own ideas\n and modes of thought, would be far more easily worked, and\n far more willingly and intelligently obeyed, than much better\n regulations imposed by external force, but which they might\n neither comprehend nor appreciate, and which would therefore be\n of far less real utility....\n\n \u201cI may say that I have no reason to be dissatisfied with\n the results. I have no doubt that the native magistrates\n make mistakes, and sometimes grave mistakes; I have no doubt\n that in individual instances the Roko Tuis are harsh and\n overbearing; but it is, I think, far better that they should\n now and then be so than that all share in the administration\n should be taken away from them. The employment of natives in\n the administration of the government was, indeed, a financial\n necessity, for the means did not exist, and do not yet exist,\n for the payment of such a staff of white officials as would\n have been required had the services of natives been dispensed\n with. But had no such imperative cause existed to render\n their employment inevitable, I should equally have deemed it\n to be required by considerations of policy. Unless removed\n from their habitual places of residence, and treated with a\n harshness wholly incompatible with the understanding on which\n the islands had been ceded to England, chiefs of intelligence,\n high rank, and great social influence, would have become, if\n stripped of all authority, and deprived of all employment\n except that of brooding over their own changed condition, very\n dangerous elements in the colony. For, be it remembered, the\n legal non-recognition of their position would not have in any\n way deprived them of the power they possessed over those who\n yielded to them an instinctive and unquestioning obedience.\n As it is, they are cheerful and willing assistants to the\n Government in the performance of its duties.\n\n \u201cThe results of the system actually adopted were apparent when\n the mountaineers of Viti Levu attacked the Christian villages\n of the Singatoka. I appealed to the Rokos for help, and named\n thirty men as the contingent each was to send. Had the same\n state of mind existed that I found on my arrival, sullen and\n reluctant submission would at best have been given to the\n order, and more probably excuses would have been made for the\n non-appearance of the force; the mischief would have spread,\n and a long and costly war would have resulted. What was in\n fact the answer to the appeal? From almost every province came\n double the number of men asked for\u2014picked men out of a host of\n volunteers\u2014and the troubles were suppressed by native forces\n alone, without delay and at a trifling cost....\n\n \u201cI will only say one word on the future prospects of the\n colony\u2014namely, that I believe Fiji to be an admirable field for\n the investment of large capital, whether in sugar or coffee\n estates. Sugar grows spontaneously, is of the first quality,\n and has a practically boundless market in Australia. As regards\n coffee culture, Fiji is now in much the same position as Ceylon\n thirty or forty years ago, and I have no doubt that those who\n now found estates there will find them in no long time amply\n remunerative. I have never seen finer tobacco than that raised\n in Fiji, and the cotton produced there is admitted to be of the\n best description.\u201d\n\nFiji lies 1760 miles N.-E. of Sydney, and 1175 miles N. of Auckland. The\nvalue of its principal exports may be gathered from the following table:\u2014\n\n Coppra. Cotton. Sugar.\n 1875, \u00a340,003 \u00a328,706 \u00a33,417\n 1876, 45,908 21,122 10,433\n 1877, 79,403 15,690 16,170\n 1878, 122,194 20,700 18,640\n\nAt the close of 1878 the area under cultivation was as follows:\u2014\n\n Coppra\u2014_i.e._, cocoa-nut, 9166 acres.\n Cotton, 2390 \u201d\n Sugar, 1772 \u201d\n Maize, 1000 \u201d\n Coffee, 1219 \u201d\n\nThe cultivation of coffee is as yet in its infancy.\n\nTobacco, arrowroot, cocoa, cinchona, tea, vanilla, rice, pepper, &c.,\nhave been produced as yet only in small quantities, experimentally.\nThe export of green fruit for Australia and New Zealand is a rapidly\nincreasing item. Thus in 1877, 3100 bunches of bananas were exported; in\n1878, 21,316 bunches; in 1879, 43,062 bunches.\n\nThe form of Government is that of a Crown Colony, with Executive and\nLegislative Councils.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n THE VOYAGE OUT.\n\n\n ON BOARD THE MESSAGERIES MARITIMES S.S. ANADYR,\n NEARING POINT DE GALLE, _April 17, 1875_.\n\nMY DEAR FELLOW-ARAB,\u2014You see I am \u201conce more upon the waters,\u201d but\nwhither I am now bound is a problem which I defy you to guess. I had not\ntime to write to you before my hurried departure from England, but you\nsee my locomotive demon has allowed me a very short spell of rest (if\nrest it can be called, to rush all over England and Scotland, visiting\ninnumerable friends and relations! Practically, I find such visiting\ninvolves more wear and tear of mind and body, than any amount of\ntravelling in distant lands).\n\nWell, as you know, it is not yet six months since I returned home, after\neighteen months of the most delightful wanderings in every corner of\nbeautiful Ceylon. It needed all the warmth of family affection to make\nthe bitter cold of an English winter even endurable, and my yearning for\ntropical heat and sunlight was for ever being reawakened by aggravating\nacquaintances, who invariably asked me, \u201cWhere are you going next?\u201d As\nI had not the smallest prospect of ever again escaping from my native\nshores, I always answered, \u201cTo Fiji,\u201d as being the most absurd answer\nthat suggested itself to so foolish a question,\u2014a place known to me only\nas being somehow associated with a schoolboy song about the King of the\nCannibal Islands. Judge, then, of my amazement, when, one morning, I\nreceived a letter to tell me that Fiji had been annexed, and that Sir\nArthur Hamilton Gordon had been appointed first Governor, and gravely\nsuggesting that I should accompany Lady Gordon to her remote home. I need\nscarcely tell you that the temptation proved irresistible.\n\nTo begin with, a cruise in the South Pacific has been one of the dreams\nof my life; and the idea of going actually to live for an indefinite\nperiod on isles where there are still a number of ferocious cannibals,\nhas a savour of romance which you can imagine does not lack charm. And\nthen to do it all so comfortably, gliding into the adventure so easily,\nwithout the slightest exertion on my own part, is far too rare a chance\nto be lost, in spite of the remonstrances of my sisters, who consider it\nquite unnatural of me to care to leave home again so soon.\n\nNaturally, when I announced my intention of really going, every one\nreplied, \u201cOf course you are only joking!\u201d And indeed, even now, I myself\nfind it difficult to think of Fiji or anything connected with it in any\nother light than that of a great joke; its very name has always been\nconsidered funny!\n\nIts whereabouts, and everything connected with it, are evidently matters\nof the vaguest uncertainty to all my friends. I did my best to appear\nastonished at their ignorance, but, between ourselves, I honestly confess\nto having possessed the very haziest ideas on the subject, up to the\nmoment when that letter reached me, when, of course, I got an atlas and\nhunted Fiji up. As you probably have no map at hand, and are certain to\nbe equally in the dark, I may as well tell you that it is a group of\nabout 250 islands, of which about 70 are inhabited. That it is in the\nSouth Pacific, about ten degrees south of the Equator, thirty degrees\neast of the north coast of Australia, and twenty degrees north of New\nZealand. This is a very rough description, but it is sufficient to make\nyou realise the position.\n\nAs yet, I only know of two people who have been there\u2014one of whom, Harry\nLeefe, started from Cresswell last year to join an uncle who owns an\nisland there, and grows cotton and cocoa-nuts. This Robinson Crusoe of\nthe South Seas has for years past been to us enveloped in a halo of\nromance; and now I am looking forward to seeing him in his own home,\nand myself becoming \u201ca resident in the South Seas.\u201d Does it not sound\ndelightful, and don\u2019t you envy me? Before leaving London, I managed to\nget up some information by reading a cleverly compiled book on Fiji,\nby a man who has never been there; but he vouches for the group being\na terrestrial paradise, where the soil need only be scratched to yield\nabundant harvests of every sort, and where every form of volcanic crag\ncombines with tropical foliage to produce endless beauties. So I have\ninvested in a goodly stock of drawing paper, and enough paints and\nbrushes to last me a lifetime, and look forward to a most interesting\nsketching tour. The ground will have the advantage of being altogether\nnew, which is an immense charm.\n\nAnd now we are fairly started, and a very large pleasant party we are.\nWe (the Fijian family) assembled in London on the 22d March, for a\nshort special service at King\u2019s College Chapel, Somerset House, and\nnext morning started for Paris, where we halted four days, embarking at\nMarseilles on Easter morning\u2014an unsatisfactory moment for starting, but\ntravellers cannot always choose their own times and seasons. This is a\nsplendid steamer, 3600 tons, most comfortable in every respect, and with\na capital table for such as appreciate French cookery.\n\nOur party consists of Sir Arthur and Lady Gordon, and two particularly\nnice little ones\u2014namely, Nevil, a picturesque girl of six, with silky\nbrown curls, and dark thoughtful eyes; and George, aged four, who is\nalways called Jack, because from his boyhood he has worn real sailor\u2019s\nclothes, made by a man-of-war\u2019s tailor. Then comes their cousin, Arthur\nGordon, who has a fine talent for drawing, and is Sir Arthur\u2019s secretary.\nCaptain Knollys, A.D.C., only joined us at Aden, bringing with him a\nvery important member of the family\u2014namely, Snip, a tiny black and tan\nterrier. Dr Mayo, Mr Mitchell, Mr Eyre, and Mr Le Hunte, at present\ncomplete our party, the latter being a young lawyer, and, moreover,\nour typical Briton,\u2014a stalwart combination of Ireland and Yorkshire.\nMr Mitchell was a tried friend in the West Indies. And Dr Mayo is a\nkeen, clever man, a fellow of New College, Oxford, who has followed his\nprofession in every camp in Europe, and in some in Asia, and now hopes\nto find an ample field for studying new forms of the ills that flesh is\nheir to among the various races of the Pacific. He is a good botanist and\nantiquarian, and is a mine of information on all topics. All these spend\nseveral hours a day learning Fijian, with the most exemplary patience and\ndetermination, by the help of vocabularies and dictionaries. Last but not\nleast come the excellent Welsh nurse and faithful Portuguese under-nurse;\nand Mr and Mrs Abbey, major-domo and general heads of all departments,\nwho have already lived with the Gordons in Trinidad and Mauritius, and\nthere proved themselves pillars of Government House: a most comfortable\nand reliable couple, warranted to take good care of everything and\neverybody. They have two little boys\u2014the youngest, Arky, a sunny-headed\nlittle mite.\n\nCaptain and Mrs Havelock, and Dr and Mrs Macgregor, are to join us at\nSydney, as are also the Judge and Attorney-General, Sir William and Lady\nHackett, and Mr and Mrs de Ricci, so that the white population of Fiji\nwill receive a large accession.\n\nI will add no more at present, except to say that, with my usual luck at\nthis point, it was bitterly cold and very grey coming through the Suez\nCanal and down the Red Sea. There had been a heavy storm, which turned\nthe sea to mud for some miles ere we reached Port Said, which was dirty\nand dull as usual,\u2014heavy waves dashing over the breakwater, and Lake\nMenzaleh looking grey and dreary....\u2014Ever yours.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\n SYDNEY\u2014CAMELLIA TREES\u2014ORANGE GARDENS.\n\n\n SYDNEY, NEW SOUTH WALES, _June 2_.\n\nDEAR NELL,\u2014My last letter home was posted at Rockhampton, two days before\nwe reached Brisbane. The latter lies twenty miles up a river, so a little\nsteamer comes down to meet the big one and carry letters and passengers\nto and fro. On this occasion there was a special one for Sir Arthur,\nand he and his party were hospitably entertained by the Governor, Mr\nCairns. His private secretary at present is Mr Maudslay, a son of the\ncelebrated engineer. He has already travelled far and near for his own\namusement, and we think it probable that some day he will find his way\nto Fiji and become one of our band of brothers, or Knights of the Round\nTable, if you think that sounds better. I should scarcely think Brisbane\nwas a congenial atmosphere. It seemed to us a singularly uninteresting\nplace, its botanical gardens being almost the only resource. Of course,\nin a semi-tropical climate like that of Queensland, there is always the\nattraction of very varied foliage; but we thought even this was somewhat\nstunted.\n\nWe had lovely weather on our two days\u2019 voyage from Brisbane, and also the\nday we arrived here. Unfortunately we just missed seeing the festivities\nfor the Queen\u2019s birthday, when every ship in the beautiful harbour was\ndressed, and there was an immense volunteer review. There are no military\nhere, and the volunteers only meet on this one day. Lady Robinson is,\nhowever, to have a great ball to-night, when she promises to show us any\nnumber of Australian beauties.\n\nThe accommodation of Government House is so very limited, and the family\nparty so large, that it was as much as she could do to find room for\nLady Gordon and the children. All the gentlemen have found quarters at\nan hotel; and Commodore and Mrs Goodenough, a most hospitable and kind\ncouple, have managed to take me in. Never was there a better illustration\nof the old proverb that \u201cwhere there is heart-room there is hearth-room,\u201d\nfor their house is tiny and yet shelters many friends. Lady Robinson\nkindly says that, though not living under her roof, I am nevertheless her\nguest. So I dine there most nights.\n\nHow you would revel in the exquisite loveliness of the camellias! The\ndinner-table is most often decorated with delicate pink camellias and\nmaidenhair fern; and the loveliest white ones are abundant as snowdrops\nin an English spring. Beautiful as these are, I am not enamoured of what\nwe have hitherto seen of Australia as contrasted with Ceylon and India.\nTo begin with, I have contrived to catch a severe cold, not improved by\nall these starlight walks to and from Government House, which is just too\nnear to be worth driving to; and the climate is apparently as changeable\nas in England. We have had four consecutive days of incessant rain and\ncold, raw air, so on every side you hear people coughing and sneezing;\nand we are glad to cower over fires\u2014for which, by the way, the coal comes\nfrom Newcastle.\n\nIt is so absurd to hear the old familiar names out here. A man tells you\nhe has just come from Morpeth, Oxford, or Hyde Park, Norwood or Sydenham,\nWaterloo, Waverley or Paddington, Birkenhead or Liverpool, Brighton or\nCremorne, Clifton, St Leonard\u2019s, Darlington, Anglesea, &c. It is quite a\nrelief to hear so wholly novel a name as Wooloomoolloo!\n\nBut truly all the attractions which have hitherto delighted me in foreign\nlands are here conspicuous by their absence. Apparently no native\npopulation. Certainly no rich colour; no statuesque tropical undress; no\ngraceful cocoa-palms. Everything is British, even to the ploughman riding\nhis horses home at night, and the four-horse omnibuses, and the hansom\ncab which drives you about the town at 4s. an hour, and the genuine\nunadulterated cockney accents of men born and bred in the colony. Of\ncourse it is interesting to see this Greater Britain mushroom, but it is\ndifficult to believe that we are 14,000 miles from London! and I hope,\nbefore long, to get glimpses of bush-life.\n\nBut of Sydney itself we run some danger of getting more than we wish,\ninasmuch as the difficulties of getting ready a house in Fiji are very\ngreat, especially from lack of hands to labour\u2014a difficulty which has\nbeen sorely increased by a frightful plague of measles, which, by news\njust received, have (at the lowest computation) carried off one-fifth\nof the whole population of the Isles. Some rate it far higher. And\nthe survivors are all disheartened and miserable, and unfit for work.\nSo, although Sir Arthur is buying his doors and windows and planking\nready-made here to facilitate his building, it may be months before he\nhas a house ready for us; and meanwhile we must have one here, and a very\ndifficult article it is to find. The gentlemen are house-hunting all over\nthe place, with very bad success; and the worst of it is that there is so\nlittle time, as Sir Arthur must start for Fiji within ten days, and leave\nus settled here,\u2014a dull prospect for Lady Gordon, and doubly so as she\nmust be anxious at his running into such a sink of measles, he being the\nonly one of the party who has never had them.\n\nWe went to the opera last night. The most remarkable thing about it was\nthe drop-scene, which was simply a huge advertisement sheet, with puffs\nof all sorts, from the newest sewing-machine to the most efficacious\npills! Imagine the effect of this descending between each act of Anna\nBolena! I regretted much that I had not rather accompanied Commodore and\nMrs Goodenough, who spent the evening with a large party of blue-jackets.\nIt is quite touching to see their cordial kindness to all the men, and\nextreme interest in all that concerns them; and yet the Commodore has\nthe name of being stern. I can only say I never saw a face which more\nthoroughly revealed the genial nature within.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _June 10._\n\nWe have had several pleasant expeditions in the neighbourhood. Last\nMonday, Sir Hercules having ordered a special train to take us to see the\nBlue Mountains, we started early and went as far as the wonderful zigzags\nby which the rail is carried across the mountains. I had the privilege of\nsitting on the engine, so I obtained an admirable view.\n\nThe following day Mr Gordon, Capt. Knollys, Dr Macgregor, Dr Mayo, and\nMr Eyre started for Fiji in H.M.S. Barracouta, so our first detachment\nis fairly under weigh. Sir Arthur is waiting for telegrams from England,\nand is to follow in H.M.S. Pearl with Commodore Goodenough. It has been\ndecided that we are to remain at Pfahlert\u2019s Hotel till he sends us orders\nto follow, which we hope may come soon.\n\nMeanwhile we find some attractions here. To-day we drove out to the South\nHeads, and had a most lovely walk along the cliffs. At the entrance to\nthe harbour we came to a pretty little church perched among the rocks,\nand listened to the choir practising \u201cThe strain upraise,\u201d while we sat\nbasking in the sunshine, the whole air fragrant with the honeyed blossoms\nof the red and white epacris, which grows in profusion, and is suggestive\nof many-coloured heaths. Though the everlasting gum-tree is apparently\nthe only indigenous growth, there is lovely foliage of all sorts in the\ngardens of innumerable villas, which lie dotted all over the countless\nheadlands, and along the shores of the many creeks which branch off from\nthis immense and most lovely harbour.\n\nIn these gardens you find clumps of bamboo growing beside\nweeping-willows; holly-bushes, with clusters of scarlet berries,\novershadowed by stiff date palms; broad-leaved plantains, contrasting\nwith leafless trees; frost-dreading heliotrope beside wintry\nchrysanthemums and withered oak; while dark Norfolk Island pines\nserve as a background to large camellia-trees, literally one blaze of\nblossom, pink, white, crimson, and variegated. These grow in such rank\nprofusion wherever they receive the slightest care, that we marvel to\nfind them in so comparatively few gardens, especially as their value\nis so fully recognised that good blossoms fetch about 6d. a-piece; and\nmarket-gardeners allow millions to drop unheeded, rather than lower their\nprice.\n\nThere are lovely ferns in many of the little gullies, and delightful\nspots at which to land for picnics. One of the favourite \u201cploys\u201d here is\nto start armed with a small hammer, a bottle of vinegar or some lemons,\nand slices of bread and butter, and find a feast of oysters on the rocks!\nTwo days ago, the weather being warm and sunny, Lady Robinson took us\nin her steam-launch fourteen miles up one of the creeks. It was like\na beautiful Scotch lake; and we caught glimpses of many lesser creeks\nbranching off to right and left, all tempting us to explore. Now I must\ndespatch my letter. So good-bye.\u2014Your loving sister.\n\n * * * * *\n\n PFAHLERT\u2019S HOTEL, SYDNEY, _Sunday, June 20, 1875_.\n\nI told you in my last that the first detachment of our party started\nfor Fiji in the Barracouta. Now so many have followed that we feel\nquite forsaken. This day last week Sir Arthur and Lady Gordon went to a\nfarewell lunch on board H.M.S. Pearl with Commodore and Mrs Goodenough,\nand on Monday the Barracouta sailed. We sat in the beautiful botanic\ngardens to watch her pass down the harbour, carrying away so many of our\nfriends\u2014Sir Arthur, Mr Mitchell, and Mr Le Hunte of our own set, and the\ngood kind Commodore and his officers. I do so envy them going off to\nthe Isles, and of course it is a sore trial to Lady Gordon to be left\nhere: it will be fully three months before we are allowed to follow. On\nWednesday another detachment followed\u2014namely, Mr and Mrs de Ricci, Mrs\nMacgregor and her little girl, Mrs Abbey and her two little boys. They\nwent by the Meteor, a very small sailing ship, and I fear they are likely\nto have a very uncomfortable passage, lasting fully a fortnight.\n\nThe people here are not encouraging as to our prospects. Many of them\nhave lost a great deal of money which they had invested in Fijian\nplantations; and those who have had friends or relations there, in some\ncases ladies and children, give us most lamentable accounts of the\nhardships they had to undergo from want of the commonest necessaries of\nlife, and dangerous voyages in open canoes. From all we hear, I think\nthere can be no doubt a planter\u2019s life in the Isles must be a most\nunenviable lot; but of course, as far as we individually are concerned,\nthe way will be made smooth.\n\nI am preparing for emergencies by attending the infirmary several days a\nweek, to pick up a few ideas about simple nursing. It is under the care\nof Miss Osborne, a cousin of Florence Nightingale. Evidently her whole\nheart is in her work, and everything is done thoroughly; and kindness\nand order reign supreme. I have been very much interested in some of the\npatients, especially in one poor sailor who hails from \u201cthe parish of\nDyke.\u201d[4]\n\nNothing strikes me more here than the exceeding loyalty of the\ninhabitants. Every one speaks of England as \u201chome,\u201d though neither they\nnor their parents or grandparents ever saw the old country; and certainly\nour Queen has no more devoted subjects. To-day being her Majesty\u2019s\nAccession, the churches were crowded; and at the cathedral this afternoon\nwe had the \u201cCoronation Anthem,\u201d and then \u201cGod save the Queen.\u201d\n\nI find here that it does not do to use the word _native_, as we are wont\nto do, with reference to the brown races. Here it is applied exclusively\nto white men born in the country, the hideous blacks being invariably\ndescribed as _aborigines_. Hideous indeed they are, far beyond any race\nI have yet met with; and of so low a type that it is impossible, in\ntheir case, to regret that strange law of nature which seems to ordain\nthe dying out of dark skinned races before the advance of civilisation,\nand which is nowhere so self-evident as in Australia, where they have\nsimply faded away, notwithstanding the strict observance of their own\nmost elaborate marriage laws, which set forth the various degrees of\nrelationship between different tribes, and the rotations in which alone\nthey are permitted to marry. Perhaps, however, if all tales be true\nconcerning the ruthless policy of extermination practised by too many of\nthe settlers on the frontier, and the manner in which tribes have been\nshot down wholesale for daring to trespass on the lands taken from them\nwithout any sort of right the extinction of the Australian black may be\nfound to be less a law of nature than an illustration of the might that\nmakes right. But certainly the few specimens we have come across have\nbeen unspeakably wretched, living in gipsy camps far more miserable than\nthose of any British tinker, altogether dirty and debased.\n\nThe Commodore rejoices us by saying that our Fijians are a very superior\nrace, many of them really handsome, fine, stalwart men. He brought some\nFijian yams on his return from the Isles, and had a dinner party, that\nwe might all taste them. Anything Fijian is really as great a curiosity\nhere as it would be in London. You know the Pearl took Sir Hercules to\nFiji to make final arrangements about annexation; and when that business\nwas settled, King Thakombau and his sons came to visit Sir Hercules and\nsee something of civilisation. You can imagine how strange the great city\nmust have seemed to men whose notion of a king\u2019s palace is a one-roomed\nthatched house one storey high. The horses and carriages were still more\nwonderful; and as to the railway, that was beyond comprehension. But the\nold king took it all very philosophically, and was never so happy as when\nLady Robinson\u2019s little grand-daughter, a pretty little child with golden\nhair, crept on to his knee, whispering, \u201cYou won\u2019t eat _me_, will you?\u201d\nOr else he would lie down and rest on his own mat, keeping his big Bible\nbeside him,\u2014not that the old man could read it, for I believe his studies\ncommenced rather too late in life, but he said \u201cit made him feel so good!\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\n PFAHLERT\u2019S HOTEL, _July 15_.\n\nDEAR EISA,\u2014I have been all the morning waiting for the mail, sure of\na letter from you, but I again have drawn a blank in that tantalising\nlottery. You can scarcely realise what a matter of interest the mails\nbecome in a place like this\u2014the perpetual coming and going of the\nsteamers, the signalling of their approach from the Heads, then watching\nthem come up the harbour, right past Government House to their respective\ncreeks. Such a lovely harbour as it is, and every headland dotted with\npicturesque villas! We have had both time and weather to enjoy it, the\nlatter having been faultless ever since the rainy week which greeted our\narrival, when it did pour with a vengeance. Now it is quite lovely, only\nthe nights are too chilly sometimes for perfection. It is midwinter, you\nknow, and all the deciduous trees are leafless. Leafless oak and apple\ntrees beside camellia and orange trees in full flower and fruit! But the\nwillows have not lost _their_ leaves, but grow beside great clumps of\nbamboo.\n\nThe days slip away pleasantly. Many very kind friends plan delightful\nexcursions for us, by land or water; and I learn what carriage-springs\nare capable of enduring when I see the daintiest little pony-phaetons\ndriven, apparently at random, through the bush, across fields, or over\nthe roughest cart-tracks. When we come to a paling, we deliberately\ntake it down, and, of course, put it up again. Sometimes we come to\ndells where the loveliest maidenhair fern grows wild, and we fill the\ncarriage with it and the pink epacris. As to the sweet wild geranium\nwhich abounds, it is thought quite extraordinary that we should care to\ngather it! Yesterday we went by rail to Paramatta, and drove to the great\norange gardens, and noticed one group of trees from 40 to 45 feet high,\nthe stems being nearly a foot in diameter, and the lowest branch three\nfeet above my head. I do not remember any so large in Malta or elsewhere.\nIt seemed strange to see these gardens with such wealth of fruit and\nblossom, while the neighbouring peach and pear orchards were all\nleafless. We drove on to the camellia gardens, and paid five shillings\nfor quite a small basketful, though millions of blossoms were wasting\ntheir loveliness, and I would fain have carried off even those that lay\nunheeded on the grass. To-night there is a great ball at the Masonic\nHall, to which we go, being bound to see everything.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\n LIFE IN THE BLUE MOUNTAINS\u2014DEATH OF COMMODORE GOODENOUGH\u2014LIFE\n IN THE BUSH.\n\n\n FROM A TINY COTTAGE AT THE WEATHERBOARD IN THE\n BLUE MOUNTAINS, NEW SOUTH WALES, Begun _Aug. 19, 1875_.\n\nYou see I have contrived to escape from the region of fine clothes and\nprolonged meals! Oh dear, what a trial it is to be invited to luncheon at\nsome lovely place, where you go expecting a pleasant day out of doors,\nand find an immense party assembled for a stiff dinner of many courses,\nwhich takes nearly the whole afternoon! The donors of the feast console\nthemselves by a quiet evening stroll and late tea; but the poor guest has\nto return to undergo a second long dinner as usual. Nevertheless I have\nhad many delightful days in the neighbourhood of Sydney.\n\nYou have no notion what a size the harbour is, and how immense is the\namount of shipping always coming and going! Great ships, and steamboats,\nand yachts, and tiny steam-launches,\u2014sometimes I have counted eighteen\nor twenty steamers in sight at once. And then the out-of-the-way creeks\nare numberless. I think we have explored at least a score, sketching\nand picnicing, and I flatter myself I know the beauties of the harbour\nas well as the oldest Sydneyite. I learnt a good deal about it during a\nmost enjoyable fortnight I spent with the Wentworths, whose lovely home,\nGreycliff, is close to the water, near the Heads, which are grand crags\nguarding the entrance, about six miles from the town. The Wentworths and\nCoopers own all the prettiest places thereabouts. We were out almost\nevery day from morning till night, the boatmen making a fire and cooking\nour dinner in regular bush fashion,\u2014fish just caught, potatoes and chops,\n&c.; and always bush tea, boiled with milk in a kettle,\u2014and very good\nit is under the circumstances, though I do not advise you to adopt the\nfashion. Steaming a snapper is the summit of culinary art\u2014a snapper\nbeing a large fish, which is cooked (cut up) with potatoes and scraps of\nbacon and onion. I confess I prefer the various small fish fried. One\nof the boatmen is Joe, a most jocular old black from Cape de Verd; the\nother, Jamie Lee, a true gipsy. Of course kindred spirits fraternised at\nonce, and when he found I could pull a pretty strong oar, the conquest\nwas complete! So we had days of gipsying and evenings of melody, Mrs\nWentworth\u2019s sister being one of the most perfect musicians I ever met. I\nhave also spent some pleasant days with the Morts, whose lovely house,\nGreenoakes, is built as a dream of Alton Towers,\u2014all gables outside, and\ngood old carved oak inside. And such a garden of camellias, pink, red,\nand white\u2014great trees of them! Amongst other things, Mr Mort owns one of\nthe principal docks here, and an iron foundry; also a great dairy-farm on\nthe coast, with 500 cows, all in milk! But his all-engrossing interest\nis a great freezing establishment for conveying meat to England. He has\nit killed in the mountains, brought to Sydney in iced trucks, and there\nreceived into genuine arctic regions, into which you descend shivering,\nand see innumerable carcases, all frozen as hard as stone. These are\nto be conveyed, frozen, to England, about 200 tons at a time. It is a\ngigantic experiment, on which Mr Mort has already sunk nearly \u00a3100,000.\nEverything about it is on new principles, and it is now _all but_ in\nworking order. It has been the labour of years, and is now just about to\nsee daylight.\n\nYou perceive my writing is shaky. I am in the train, returning to Sydney,\nwhirling past orange orchards, and endless dull bush, all of gum-trees.\nBut everywhere there is an undergrowth of lovely bush flowers; and here\nand there, from the crevices of the rock, there hangs a veil of creamy\nblossom,\u2014 I think they are rock-lilies; and there are some scarlet\nlilies, like crowns of fire; and strange blossoms of the _waratau_,\nwhich I cannot describe, because it is so utterly unlike anything you\never saw,\u2014something between a scarlet dahlia and an artichoke. But the\nglory of the bush is the feathery mimosa, which takes the place of\nour broom, and is covered with sheets of fragrant gold. There is also\na lovely creeper (here they would say _vine_), with masses of lilac\nblossom\u2014the Kennedia\u2014which climbs the mimosas, and droops in richest\ntrails of bright purply red. You can best realise the effect by picturing\na bough of lilac wistaria overhanging a golden laburnum. Even the dull\ngum-trees, the eucalypti, become beautiful when covered with delicate\nyellowish blossoms. The sheep-farmers glory in the dreary tracts of land,\nthe monotony of which is not varied by one gay flower. Happily the bush\nrevels in colour, and I find upwards of fifteen totally different sorts\nof epacris\u2014crimson, white, pink, and yellow. I call them heaths, but I am\nrebuked for so doing. Some are so fragrant that they scent the air like\nhoney. But when I revel in wild flowers every one says, Oh, wait till you\nsee the bush a month hence! It will be one carpet of many colours.\n\nI must account for being so much away from Lady Gordon. Captain and Mrs\nHavelock have now joined us, and they were old friends in Mauritius.\nLatterly Captain H. has been acting as Governor of Seychelles, but Sir\nArthur requested that he should be appointed to Fiji, where, I believe,\nhe is to act as treasurer. Mrs Havelock shares Lady Gordon\u2019s taste for\nremaining quietly at home with the children, so they stay together at\nSydney, while I do the sight-seeing. Mrs Havelock has one little girl,\nRachel, Lady Gordon\u2019s god-child,\u2014such a quaint, nice, tiny child, whom\nJack and Nevil regard as an interesting doll, requiring great care. They\nare the very nicest little couple possible,\u2014coaxy, loving little things,\nand most picturesque. They are quite inseparable, and Lady Gordon has\nnever left them for one night. Sir William and Lady Hackett have also\narrived from Penang. He is to be judge in Fiji. Mr Maudslay, whom we\nmet at Brisbane, has also joined our party. He is to be Sir Arthur\u2019s\nextra secretary, and if he finds the country suits him, will perhaps get\npermanent work in the Isles. He is devoted to botany, natural history,\nand kindred subjects of interest. Mr Maudslay and another gentleman\nescorted me to the Blue Mountains last week, where we put up at a very\ncosy inn and expeditionised. The gorges with great cliffs are very\nfine, and the valleys densely wooded. Sometimes we went down into deep\ngullies with tree-ferns far above our heads\u2014very beautiful. When my two\ncompanions had to return to Sydney, I went to the tiny cottage where I\nbegan this letter. My host was a wood-cutter, with a clean, tidy wife,\nand a number of very neat children. Such nice people! More independent\nand outspoken and self-respecting than English of the same class; and the\nchildren are all so well brought up. I had spent a long day alone on the\nverge of a gorge edged with great precipices, and was walking home calmly\nin the clear moonlight, when I perceived a small regiment coming to meet\nme. These were all the sturdy youngsters, in age ranging from five to\nten, coming in search of my remains! The lion and the mice! They escorted\nme home cheerily, chatting right out on all subjects! It does seem odd\nto think of my being so at home, alone in these wild mountains, sitting\nall day by myself, miles from any human habitation, only seeing a pair of\ngreat eagles soaring overhead\u2014no other living thing.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _August 29, 1875._\n\nThe mails brought letters from you and your mother\u2014both most welcome.\nBut alas! my pleasure in receiving them was marred by terrible tidings,\nwhich reached us at the same moment, of a most horrible tragedy (of which\nyou must have heard ere now)\u2014namely, the treacherous murder of Commodore\nGoodenough, who, as you know, was the one to welcome me on my arrival in\nSydney, and to give me house-room for the first fortnight of our stay.\nOne of the sunniest-hearted, most genial men I ever met, universally\npopular, and justly loved by all under his command. He was quite out of\nthe common,\u2014clever, the noblest type of an English naval officer, and\nas good as good could be. I mean, thoroughly religious,\u2014the religion of\na life showing itself in such care for his men, and for whatever could\nadvance Christianity in the Isles, where he was constantly cruising\nabout, and of which his knowledge was very great. Personally, he had\nendeared himself to us all as a genuine good friend. His last cruise was\nto take Sir Arthur to Fiji, where he was present at his installation,\nwhen King Thakombau formally made personal submission to him as the\nQueen\u2019s representative. After this the Commodore took Sir Arthur in the\nPearl to various Fijian isles; and then, dropping him, went off to look\nup some other groups. And I particularly want to impress upon you that\nthese groups are as distinct as Russia, England, and India; and that the\npeople of one may be incarnate devils, while the next are positively\ndove-like. Our Christianised Fijians are of the latter sort. But alas!\nthe Commodore\u2019s cruise was to Santa Cruz\u2014the same group in which, in\n1871, Bishop Patteson was murdered. (I suppose you have read that most\ntouching story.) Those islanders have always been difficult to deal\nwith, not understanding good white men, and ready to avenge on them the\nkidnapping practised by the scum who haunt these seas in the labour\ntraffic. So on this occasion the Commodore, as usual, landed unarmed,\nand went among the natives in friendly conversation, as he had done on\na previous visit. Something unusual in their manner struck him, and he\nproposed a retreat to the boat, when suddenly, without a moment\u2019s notice,\none of them deliberately shot him with an arrow, which pierced his side.\nHe was able to walk to the boat; but a second arrow struck him in the\nhead, and four of his young sailors were wounded. Even then, with what\nseemed mistaken kindness, he would not allow any bloodshed in revenge,\nbut made his men fire blank-cartridge to frighten away the people, and\nthen set fire to their wretched huts as a sufficient punishment. Well,\nat first, none of the wounds were considered dangerous, but, as almost\ninvariably happens in that climate, after a few days _tetanus_ (_i.e._,\nlock-jaw) set in, which means certain death in torture. The Commodore\nlingered eight days. When he found he could not recover, he called each\nof his officers in turn, and kissed them, and said good-bye. Then he made\nthem carry him on to the quarter-deck, where he said good-bye to all his\nmen, and prayed for them. Then came the bitter end. One young sailor died\njust before him; another next day. All this time the Pearl was sailing\nsouthward to get cooler climate for the sufferers, and so it came to\npass that they were within two days\u2019 sail of Sydney when, on Friday, his\nspirit passed away. On Monday the Pearl, with her ensign half mast, and\nyard-arms topped on end,[5] in token of her burden of sorrow, re-entered\nthe harbour, and the terrible news spread like wildfire. I think some\nblessed angel must have whispered the truth to poor Mrs Goodenough,\nfor she positively _knew_ the moment the Government House orderly came\nto summon her cousin, Mr Stanley of Alderley, whose departure had\nprovidentially been delayed. The only word he had to utter was \u201cSanta\nCruz.\u201d That afternoon she was able to go on board and sit for three hours\nbeside him (in the little cabin where they had spent so many happy hours,\nand where they always spent most of Sunday, going on board for service\nwith the men). That was the one great comfort. On Wednesday she was able\nto follow him to the grave, with her two little sons. It was an immense\npublic funeral. All the sailors, marines, naval reserve, training-ship,\nN.S.W. artillery, all public men, and thousands of citizens attended. His\ncoffin was on one gun-carriage; those of the two sailors on another. They\nwere laid on either side of him. He was only forty-four, and they were\neach about twenty years of age....\n\nI don\u2019t suppose you can fully realise how _home_ this comes to us all.\nWe have been so much thrown together, and we expected the Commodore\nto be so valuable an ally for Sir Arthur. To him the loss is not only\nthat of a reliable friend, but literally of a right hand. And it is so\ndisheartening that this second terrible shadow should overcloud the\nbeginning of his work. It was bad enough before, when the awful scourge\nof measles was sweeping over the Isles, which literally carried off\none-fourth of the whole population, marking the beginning of British\nrule for ever as a time of misery. You see my surroundings have become\nof awful earnest, instead of the merry little joke which I thought I\nwas taking up in coming to Fiji. Not that I regret having come. On the\ncontrary, I only rejoice to think that about ten days hence, if all\nis well, we shall be on our way there. A company of Royal Engineers\nare expected by the Whampoa in a few days, and as soon as they arrive,\nthe Egmont is to take them and us to Fiji. I am glad to hear they are\ncommanded by our old friend Colonel Pratt.\n\nI will write again in a few days.\n\n * * * * *\n\n DUNTROON, NEAR THE MURRUMBIDGEE HILLS, N.S. WALES, _Sept. 2_.\n\nDEAR EISA,\u2014Here I am really in the Australian bush, though I find it\nhard to reconcile the term with living in a fine large house, with every\nappliance of the most advanced civilisation. I can assure you we were\nglad to find such comfort at the end of a long and very cold journey.\n\nThe last detachment of our Fijian party started about three weeks\nago\u2014namely, the Havelocks and Sir William and Lady Hackett. Since their\ndeparture, Lady Gordon and the children have been living at Government\nHouse with the Robinsons; and Mr Maudslay and I have improved our time,\nfirst by exploring the Blue Mountains, where there is some grand scenery;\nand then we joined the Bishop of Grafton and Armadale and Mr Turner, and\nwe came about two hundred miles, half by rail and half posting, to this\nplace to see a true station. It is the property of the sole descendants\nof the old Campbells of Duntroon, on the Crinan Canal\u2014most hospitable\nScots. There are about 30,000 sheep, 500 horses, and 1000 head of cattle\non the station; a most comfortable house, and everything most luxurious;\nlots of horses for riding or driving; and I am getting over my belief\nthat all Australian horses are buck-jumpers. Yesterday we had a great\npicnic to a waterfall eighteen miles off. I drove there, sketched, and\nrode back over fine grassy country. It was characteristic; for, as we\nwent along, we picked up recruits till we numbered in all seventeen\nriders\u2014the brake with four horses, a dogcart, a buggie, and a cart. As\nto roads, no one here thinks of them. Without the slightest hesitation\nabout springs, the brake and four will turn off into the bush, drive\nin and out among the trees, grazing the old stumps which stick up in\nevery direction, and the felled or half-burnt timbers with which the\nground is everywhere strewn, dodging morasses, and choosing the easiest\nbits of creeks (where you think you _must_ overturn), through fords,\n&c., &c., for mile after mile. In short, I shall never again believe in\nthe possibility of breaking springs; for all carriages out here do the\nsame thing, and they are all English built. An English coachman would\nutterly refuse to take the same carriage over a cart-road. A good deal\nof the country here is open, rolling downs, which afford very pleasant\nriding\u2014miles and miles without a fence. We have just been to a ploughing\nmatch, at which the chief noteworthy fact was seeing all the farm lasses\nriding. Every lass has her pony; and a good many household servants\narrive at their new situation on their own horse, just turn it out in\ntheir master\u2019s paddock, and catch and saddle it whenever they want to\nride to the town. (This is necessary for fords rather than distance.)\nThe country is moderately pretty; but the weather is so bitterly cold\nthat I have been driven in almost every time I have tried to get a\nsketch, generally by sleet, one day by downright snow. Doesn\u2019t that\nsound strange to you, who are basking on heathery hills? One great charm\nof the bush here lies in the multitude of lovely cockatoos of every\nconceivable colour, especially pure white ones with lemon-coloured\ncrests, or pearly-grey, \u201ctrimmed\u201d with delicate pink. Some are very dark\nand handsome; and the green parrots are legion. The gentlemen have shot\nseveral, and given us their plumes. They have also shot several small\nbears,\u2014most harmless little beasts.\n\nSir Arthur writes to Lady Gordon that the house he found ready at Nasova\nis very tolerable, and that he has begun to build the new rooms, so we\nhope to find our Fiji home ready when we arrive. Good-bye.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\n ARRIVE IN FIJI\u2014TROPICAL LUXURY IN LEVUKA\u2014KING THAKOMBAU\u2014PLAGUE\n OF MEASLES.\n\n\n FROM MRS HAVELOCK\u2019S HOUSE, LEVUKA, ISLE OF OVALAU,\n FIJI, _Sunday, Sept. 26, 1875_.\n\nHere we actually are, safely landed in Fiji! We embarked on the Egmont on\nthe 9th, and left Sydney at midnight. The Egmont was specially chartered\nto carry the Engineers. Their officers are Colonel Pratt, Captain\nStewart, Mr Lake, and Dr Carew. Our only other companions were the Rev.\nFrederick and Mrs Langham, superintendent of the Wesleyan Mission, who\nhave lived in the group for seventeen years, and have seen Fiji in all\nits changes; and many a tale of horror they have told me. They are a\nkind, genial couple, while she is a gentle little woman, whom it is hard\nto associate with such scenes as she has had to go through. Mr Langham\nmade great friends with some of the Engineers; and a few of the more\nthoughtful men told him they were thinking that perhaps they might be of\nsome use to the poor ignorant people,\u2014perhaps teach some of them to read\nand write. Mr Langham expressed his pleasure at their good intentions,\nbut added, \u201cI think that you will find that some of them can read a\nlittle. We have already established some schools in Fiji,\u2014_about fourteen\nhundred schools and nine hundred churches_!\u201d I think the Engineers were\nnot the only people who opened their eyes at this statement, which is\nstrictly true!\n\nOur voyage was not altogether pleasant. The Pacific proved false to its\nname, and favoured us with \u201ca northerly buster,\u201d which is a much more\nrare occurrence than the \u201csoutherly buster,\u201d of which we have heard so\nmuch, and which did not seem to find much favour with any one except\nthe beautiful albatross, who evidently gloried in the gale. We were all\nmore or less ill\u2014even the captain; and we liked it all the less, as the\nwind drove us out of our course and allowed us no chance of touching at\nNorfolk Island, as we had hoped to do.\n\nTen days\u2019 steam brought us to Khandavu, a remote isle lying far to the\nsouth of the group, and rarely visited by the regular white inhabitants,\nyet the only Fijian isle ever seen by casual travellers, and\nconsequently the text for many a lengthened description of the group.\n\nOn the following morning, Sunday 19th, we neared Ovalau, and found\nourselves surrounded by many isles, of which we caught glimpses from\ntime to time; but thick mist alternated with downpours of rain, and the\nisles looked grey and cold, like many much nearer home! It was early dawn\nwhen we found ourselves lying off Levuka, the capital; but the land was\nshrouded in dense mist, and not a glimpse could we obtain of the hills,\nwhich rise to a height of 3000 feet just behind the town. What mattered\nmore, we were for nine hours in rough water outside the coral-reef (which\nencircles the isle of Ovalau at about a mile from the shore), and were\nactually within sound of the church bells, though we could see literally\nnothing till a lull in the storm revealed the passage\u2014_i.e._, the opening\nin the barrier reef, through which we passed into the quiet harbour of\nLevuka.\n\nJust then a bright gleam of sunshine fell like a ray of promise on the\nlittle town, with its background of richly wooded hills, and dark craggy\npinnacles far overhead, appearing above the white wreaths of floating\nmist. It was very lovely, and we were duly charmed; but our delight on\narriving was somewhat damped by finding ourselves utterly unexpected.\nGreat was the perturbation in Levuka when the inhabitants, coming\npeacefully out of church, perceived the Egmont quietly steaming in!\nGreater still was the excitement at Nasova, for no one seemed to have\nbelieved Lady Gordon was really coming, and her new house is still a mere\nskeleton. Even the Engineers were not expected for some days. Indeed, the\nofficial information of their having left England arrived about an hour\nafter themselves, by a mail _vi\u00e2_ New Zealand!\n\nAfter some delay Sir Arthur came and took us ashore to Nasova, where\nwe had lunch in the house which was built to be the council-chamber of\nThakombau\u2019s Government\u2014a place of many memories, the last being its use\nas a hospital-barrack during the recent terrible scourge of measles, from\nwhich, in spite of most tender nursing by Captain Olive, R.N., several of\nhis men died. (I must explain that Captain Olive came here with Commodore\nGoodenough, and liked the place and people so much that he was appointed\nhead of the native constabulary; and now he is a sort of additional\nA.D.C. to the Governor.)\n\nIn the evening we all returned on board the Egmont, as no other quarters\nwere ready for us. Early next morning Lady Gordon and the children\nwent ashore, but I stayed on board, thinking I might as well secure a\nsketch of the town from the ship, as the view thence was lovely. In\nthe afternoon Captain Knollys brought back the children, and Captain\nHavelock came to say that his wife had prepared a corner for me in her\nwee bungalow, charmingly perched on a breezy headland overlooking the\nharbour. This was pleasant news; and I soon found myself cordially\nwelcomed to a most cosy little nest, very small, but one of the nicest\nlittle homes here.\n\nYou need not imagine that the bungalows here are like those bowers of\ndelight I have described to you in other tropical countries. There are\nno wide verandahs, over which veils of luxuriant creepers weave garlands\nof delight, and no heavy scent of tropical blossoms perfumes the night\nair. Here few people have had time, or care, to cultivate flowers; and\nsomehow those who have, have only succeeded on a _very_ small scale.\nEven the fireflies, which we demand as a positive right in all tropical\nlands, are very few and very dim. As to the houses, they are all alike\nhideous, being built of wood (weatherboard is the word), and roofed\nwith corrugated iron or zinc, on which the mad tropical rains pour with\ndeafening noise; or else the burning sun beats so fiercely as wellnigh to\nstifle the inmates, to whom the luxuries of punkahs and ice are unknown;\nand even baths are by no means a matter of course, as in other hot\ncountries.\n\nWe have not come to a land flowing with milk and honey in any sense.\nDaily food is both difficult to obtain and expensive. Fish is scarcely to\nbe had at any price, though the sea swarms with many good kinds. Foreign\nvegetables are not to be got for love or money. The supply of fruit is\nvery scant, consisting only of indifferent bananas, pine-apples, and\noranges; and such as are brought to market are very poor. Milk is 1s. a\nquart; eggs, 3s. a dozen. Indifferent meat is about the same price as\nin England; poultry a good deal dearer. Washing varies from 4s. to 6s.\na dozen, not including dresses or petticoats; and any lady who ventures\nto have her cuffs and collars, or other small pieces, washed at home,\nfinds that not one of the scrubbing fraternity will undertake her work.\nTo people accustomed to washing in India and Ceylon at 1s. a dozen, this\nis of itself a startling item. As to house-rent in Levuka, it is simply\nexorbitant: four guineas a-week being the moderate price paid, though\ntaken by the year, for this tiny little one-storeyed bungalow, the whole\nof which, offices included, would easily fit into a moderately large room\nat home. And this is the country to which the Colonial Office sends men\nat ridiculously small salaries, because, as they were told ere leaving\nEngland, living would cost them nothing, and they could save all their\npay! Why, a man without private fortune could hardly live here at all!\nOf course, all imported goods are necessarily expensive, having to pay\nfreight first to Sydney and then to Levuka.\n\nBut oh, above all, the miseries every housekeeper must daily endure in\nwrestling with a household of utter savages, even supposing her to be\nfortunate enough to get a good well-meaning set! Hitherto my ideas of\nnative servants have been derived from the faultless cooks and other\nexcellent attendants of India, quick, wide-awake, and neat-handed;\nwhereas here you probably begin by having one or two Fijians, who look\nvery intelligent, but prove hopelessly stupid, or rather utterly careless\nabout learning our strange new ways. Day after day you must show them\nexactly how everything is to be done, and may be certain that each time\nit will be done wrong, and that the moment your back is turned they will\nproceed to twist up a bit of tobacco in a banana-leaf, and deliberately\nsmoke their cigarette before touching the work you have given them.\nProbably they will follow you to ask where the matches are, and the\nonly answer to any remonstrance is \u201c_malua_\u201d (by-and-by), a universal\nprinciple which is the bane of Fijian life. They are very honest, though\nsometimes they cannot resist borrowing large English bath-towels, which\nmake most tempting _sulus_ (_i.e._, kilt); and nice cambric handkerchiefs\nare a tempting covering for carefully-dressed hair. It would be quite\nright and proper that they should use things belonging to their own\nchiefs, so we need not wonder that they cannot always discriminate. But\nthe would-be housekeeper certainly needs boundless patience and unfailing\ngentleness. Any other course would make a Fijian altogether give up the\nattempt to learn anything.\n\nMost people seem to prefer engaging servants from among the \u201cforeign\nlabour\u201d\u2014_i.e._, men who have been brought from other groups on a three\nyears\u2019 engagement to work. Most of these are truly hideous, but they\nare generally more diligent, and more anxious to learn their work,\nthan the Fijians, who, as a rule, seem to be chiefly taken up with the\ncontemplation of their own beauty: certainly many of them are unusually\nfine men, with strong muscular frame and good features, set off by a\nsplendid head of frizzy hair\u2014not so big as the gigantic mop they wore\nin heathen times, but still very large and carefully dressed. Some have\nreally silky hair.\n\nBut in the matter of servants, the chief difficulty is to get a cook who\nknows anything at all. The very unsatisfactory person known as an English\n\u201cplain cook\u201d would here be a household treasure, compared with the\nEnglish or Chinese wretches who by turns experiment on your unfortunate\ndigestion, at not less than \u00a31 per week. I cannot tell how many changes\nMrs Havelock, Mrs Macgregor, Mrs de Ricci, Lady Hackett, and Mrs Abbey,\nhave already had in their respective households; but anyhow, it would be\na long list. Mrs Abbey and her husband have already done wonders towards\ngetting Nasova made habitable, and have also started a farmyard and a\ngarden; so, eventually, we shall have poultry and vegetables secured.\nA room has been found for Lady Gordon\u2014very noisy and uncomfortable,\nhowever; and the children are for the present living in a pretty little\nhouse close by, belonging to the Thurstons, who will scarcely care to\ngive it up for long; so the work at the new rooms is being pushed on in\nearnest. Good-bye for the present.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _September 29, 1875._\n\n... You may tell the boys that at last I really have seen the King of\nthe Cannibal Islands, and a fine stately old fellow he is, with a bright\nintelligent countenance, and very chief-like, commanding carriage. I am\ntold he was born about 1815, but he certainly appears older; his grey\nhair looks so strange round the brown face. He and several other high\nchiefs from various parts of the group have been staying at Driemba,\na village of native houses just beyond Nasova, where they have been\nexchanging counsel on affairs of the State. I am told that he never\nappears so dignified as when he is addressing his brother chiefs on\ndisputed questions. This afternoon they all came to Nasova for a farewell\nmeeting with Sir Arthur ere returning to their respective dominions. Of\ncourse they had a solemn drinking of yangona, and one chief was appointed\nRoko of his district (_i.e._, chief officer in charge); after which there\nwas a very pretty _m\u00e9k\u00e9_,[6] when a number of the people assembled to\ndance and sing, dressed in native cloth, gracefully worn as drapery, with\nkilts and fringes of black water-weed, long reedy grass-coloured leaves\nor climbing ferns thrown over one shoulder and round the waist, also\nround the arms and below the knee. They danced a circular dance, turning\nsunwise, with many varied figures, and with immense action, while the\nnon-dancers stood in the middle, making vocal music and beating time on\na drum. The words of these songs are very old, and never alter from the\ndialect in which they were at first composed, so they are not understood\nby the singers themselves. It was a very interesting scene.\n\nBut I do regret not having seen the grand ceremony of Sir Arthur\u2019s\narrival, when (on the 25th June) Thakombau and all his sons, and five\nhundred vassals, came to Nasova, and formally did homage to him,\u2014the\nfirst time the old chief has acknowledged any earthly superior. They\nbrought the customary offerings of yams, turtle, &c. Then Thakombau\u2019s\nherald carried a yangona root, of which the Vuni Valu (_i.e._, Root of\nWar, as the old chief is generally called) broke off a small piece, which\nhe placed in Sir Arthur\u2019s hands, with a few words of greeting. Sir Arthur\nformally accepted the root, and the Vuni Valu then addressed his people,\nsaying he was glad to welcome the Queen\u2019s representative, and that he and\nall his people would obey her law as their only safeguard. Sir Arthur\nthen addressed the chiefs, entreating them to put away their rivalries\nand jealousies, and work together for the common weal, suggesting to them\nas a parable, a canoe paddled by many men, some pulling backwards and\nsome forwards; what would become of canoe and people?\n\nA week later, Sir Arthur was invited by Thakombau to a great\nmeeting of chiefs at Bau, where there was a very solemn ceremonial,\nyangona-drinking, when all present formally acknowledged him as their\nfeudal lord, and solemnly pledged him as such. There were about two\nhundred chiefs present, a greater number than had probably ever assembled\nbefore; indeed, hitherto, the majority had lived in such a condition\nof ceaseless warfare, that they had never met save as foes. Even the\ntiny isle of Bau, on which the meeting was held, was formerly divided\ninto seven antagonistic communities, at war one with the other. So this\nmeeting really was a very important act of feudal homage, and all present\njoined in the _tama_, a curious deep-toned acclamation of _ndua woh! ndua\nwoh!_ which is the vassal\u2019s salutation to his feudal lord, and which on\nthis occasion proclaimed the Queen\u2019s representative as their superior,\nthe first chief of Fiji. Now all the people who pass Nasova (Government\nHouse), either by sea or land, shout this greeting.\n\nCertainly these brown men are a fine race. Such a contrast to the\nhideous blacks, of whom we saw a few, in Australia. The latter are such\na wretched race, that it seems rather an advantage to humanity that they\nshould die out; but it is a very different matter with these stalwart\nintelligent fellows and bright friendly women. And really it is too sad\nto hear of the awful ravages of the measles in the early part of this\nyear.\n\nDo you realise that one-third of the whole population has died?\u2014that\nis to say, 40,000 have died out of a population of 120,000. And the\nsaddest thing of all is, that the terrible scourge was brought here in an\nEnglish man-of-war, H.M.S. Dido, in which, last January, Thakombau and\nhis sons returned from Sydney, where they had gone to visit Sir Hercules\nRobinson, and so prove their implicit confidence in their new friends\nand protectors. At Sydney, Ratu Joe and Ratu Timothy, the king\u2019s younger\nsons, took measles of a mild type, as did also two servants; and on\nthe return voyage the old chief was slightly unwell,\u2014so slightly, that\nthe question of quarantine was never even suggested, and on reaching\nLevuka he was allowed at once to go ashore. Vassals and kindred came\nfrom all parts of the group to receive him, and, according to custom,\nfervently sniffed his hand or his face, thereby, alas! breathing the\nunsuspected poison. A few days later Mr Layard held a meeting on the\nRewa, to which came chiefs from all parts of the interior of Viti Levu,\nrepresenting the mountain tribes; there were about a thousand people\npresent. To this meeting went some from Levuka, who had already caught\nthe measles, without being as yet unwell. The infection spread, and the\nseeds of the disease were thus carried by the mountain chiefs to their\nrespective districts, where it rapidly extended, proving fatal to a vast\nnumber of the people, and to nearly all the chiefs who had been present\nat the meeting with the white chief (Mr Layard). Of course it was only\nnatural that they should attribute this to poison or witchcraft, and\nthat the tribes who had only recently accepted Christianity, or were\non the eve of doing so, should conclude that this was a Heaven-sent\npunishment for forsaking the gods of their fathers and giving up their\nlands to the white men. So they retreated to their mountain strongholds,\nbanished their teachers, returned to heathenism, and openly repudiated\nthe recently accepted British rule. We heard of an instance in which\none of the teachers having died, even the Christian villagers deemed it\nexpedient so far to return to their old customs as to bury his wife and\nchildren in the same grave with him as a propitiation to the spirit of\nthe murrain. But, as a rule, the Christians stood their ground firmly,\nand the marvel is that so very few should have relapsed. Among the first\nvictims was a very good man, Ratu Savanatha, one of the most able and\nintelligent of the chiefs, and who had done all in his power to explain\nto the Kai Tholos (_i.e._, people of the mountains) the advantages of\nEnglish rule.\n\nSo from every corner of the group came tidings that the plague was\nraging. Whole villages were stricken down\u2014young men and maidens, old\nmen and children, lay dead or dying. The handful of white people, as\na rule, did their utmost to help, and gave all the food and medicine\nthey possessed; but their own labourers and their own children were\nstricken, and needed more care than they could give; nor were there\nlacking bad white men who went about telling the natives that the disease\nhad been purposely introduced to kill them and get their lands. So the\nplain medical directions which were at once published were ignored, and\nthe white man\u2019s medicine too often refused, from a conviction that it\nwould cause certain death. Native medicines, and bad, ill-cooked food,\nmade matters worse. Of course anything like isolation of the sick was\nimpossible; nor could they be prevented from rushing to the nearest\nwater to cool their burning fever. How could men who are continually\nbathing and swimming be persuaded that this could harm them? So the rash\nwas thrown in, and congestion of the lungs and dysentery of the most\nmalignant type were brought on in thousands of cases.\n\nApart from this irresistible craving to lie down in cool streams, it\nwould have been a hard task for the poor sufferers to keep themselves\ndry, for an unparalleled rainfall converted whole districts into dreary\nswamps, where dysentery and starvation completed the work of death. The\npeople were too weak to go to their gardens (which are often far away\non some steep hillside), and so there were none to carry food; besides,\na cold wretched walk through the long wet reeds was almost certain\ndoom. At last the few who were well began to herd together, forsaking\nthe sick, and scarcely exerting themselves to give them a drink of\nwater, or prepare such food as they had. In some districts, as in the\nisle of Ono, the people were literally starving, digging up wild roots,\nand eating old cocoa-nuts only fit for making oil. Then they lay down,\nall alike stricken, for the most part awaiting the fate they deemed\ninevitable, with that strange apathetic calm which characterises a race\nwholly indifferent to life. At last the living were unable to bury the\ndead, and there was good cause to dread lest a worse pestilence, in the\nform of typhus, should be produced by the horrible putrefaction which\npoisoned the air. On the king\u2019s little island of Bau (the special home of\nthe nobles, and which is small and overcrowded), all were ill at once.\nCanoes bearing the dead were ceaselessly crossing to the mainland, where\nthe graveyards lie; the cries of mourners and the death-drums resounded\nday and night. There, too, the people were starving; they had no strength\nto go ashore to the mainland for food. Many of the finest chiefs and\nteachers died.\n\nAt the Missionary Institute all the students were down; but thanks to\nunwearied nursing day and night, most of them recovered.\n\nOf course all the native constabulary were seized; but, thanks to\nthe devoted care of Lieutenant Olive, late of the Royal Marines,\ncomparatively few died. He turned Nasova into a great hospital, and\ndistributed his 150 patients all over it, appointing those who were less\nill guards over the very sick, to prevent their yielding to the fatal\nimpulse to rush into the cool blue sea, which lay so temptingly at their\nvery door. By dint of indefatigable exertions, and a generosity that\nspared not the utmost expenditure of his private means on comforts, and\nindeed necessaries, for his sick men, he had the unspeakable satisfaction\nof saving all but ten, and these fell victims to their own craving for\nthe cool waters. They managed to escape from their guards, and lay down\nin the sea, thus sealing their own doom.\n\nAll the details that come from every isle are alike harrowing. Whole\ntowns are deserted, every house closed. The dead have been buried in\ntheir own houses, and these having fallen, the raised foundation on which\nevery Fijian house is built has now become a platform on which lie the\ngraves of the whole family, marked by the red leaves of drac\u00e6na or other\nplants. Perhaps one wretched orphan alone survives. The coast towns\nseem to have suffered more severely than those in the mountains, owing\nto the fact of their being generally built in mangrove-swamps, or some\nother morass, as being better concealed and more easily defended in the\nintertribal wars which have hitherto been of ceaseless occurrence. We are\ntold of some teachers who fled from their villages, but were overtaken\nby the disease and died. The majority acted as noble examples to their\nflocks, but many died at their posts; indeed one district alone has lost\n_ninety_, and the district next to it _forty_, native ministers and\nteachers, all carefully trained men,\u2014a loss not to be quickly replaced.\nOf the 40,000 who are computed to have perished, 35,000 were personally\nknown to the Wesleyan teachers as being either professedly Christians or\nunder instruction.\n\nIt appears that the measles, which we consider such a simple and\ninfantile complaint, invariably assumes a character more like the\nplague when first introduced in one of these South Sea isles. In 1860\nit was unfortunately taken to the Mare Loyalty group, and one-fifth of\nthe population died. The Dido unfortunately put three persons ashore on\nNorfolk Island, on her way to Fiji; they also carried the measles, which\nspread to the whole community. Afterwards she landed some time-expired\nlabourers at the Isle Malicolo, and there too, it is reported that many\nhave died.\n\nThis is the first epidemic of any sort that has visited Fiji, and\nits results naturally make the introduction of any other infectious\ndisease a thing to be dreaded. Just imagine how appalling would be the\nresults of small-pox, for instance! And as hitherto there have been no\nquarantine laws, this might have been brought by any vessel. Even now\nthere is the greatest anxiety lest it should be carried by the large\nsteamers which call at Khandavu every month, on their way to and from San\nFrancisco, Australia, and New Zealand. Of course the strictest quarantine\nregulations have now been issued; and Dr Mayo is stationed at Khandavu\nto enforce them, as also to vaccinate the whole population, and very\nmonotonous work he finds it, however necessary. Happily the people take\nrather kindly to the operation. They have a fancy for making scars on\ntheir skin, both as a remedy and an ornament, so the process is rather\nattractive; and they come voluntarily to the doctor (whom they call\n_matai-ni-mate_, \u201ccarpenter of death\u201d) to request his good offices. Now\nyou will think I am never going to stop writing, so I may as well say\ngood-bye.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\n LEVUKA\u2014THE HARBOUR\u2014CORAL-REEF\u2014CHURCHES\u2014ANIMAL LIFE\u2014PLANTS\u2014HOW\n TO BREW YANGONA\u2014PICNICS\u2014SPEAR-THROWING.\n\n\n WITH MRS HAVELOCK, LEVUKA, _Saturday, October 2, 1875_.\n\nDEAR NELL,\u2014I cannot say how I long to have you here to share the delight\nof sitting on this high headland overlooking the lovely sea. The air is\nbalmy, and we almost always have a faint delicious breeze (sometimes\nit is anything but faint!) From this tiny garden we look down through\na veil of glittering palm-leaves, brightened by a foreground of rosy\noleanders, and vivid scarlet hybiscus; and between these glimmer the\nblue waters of the Pacific, and dreamy isles which seem to float on the\nhorizon. I think, on a clear day, we can count eight or ten of these.\n\nJust below us lies the harbour, like a calm sea-lake, on which ride\nvessels of all sizes: trading schooners and brigs, which carry the\nproduce of the isles to Australia and New Zealand. Larger vessels trade\nwith Germany. Then there is an occasional man-of-war or merchant steamer,\nand always native canoes passing to and fro, with great three-cornered\nyellow mat sails, and brown men, who often sing quaint _m\u00e9k\u00e9s_ as they\napproach the town, with an odd sort of accompaniment on their _lali_,\nor wooden drum. The chiefs\u2019 canoes carry a flag, and sometimes a fringe\nof streamers of native cloth floating from the sail; and the canoe\nitself is adorned at both ends with glistening white shells like poached\neggs (_Cyprea oviformis_). Sometimes several canoes pass us racing, or\nthey meet, and their sails at different angles form pretty groups. How\nstriking a scene it must have been, when, in the old days, the chiefs\nsailed forth to war at the head of a large fleet of these! On one such\noccasion, when Thakombau went to attack Verata, he mustered a hundred\nand twenty-nine canoes. Only think how bravely they must have flown\nbefore the breeze, with the golden sunlight on the yellow sails! These\ncanoes are balanced by large outriggers\u2014that is, a beam of wood, or piece\nof cocoa-palm stem, floating alongside, and attached to the canoe by\nbamboos. They are most picturesque, and the great mat sails, seen against\nthe intense blue of the water, are a valuable addition to the scene.\nIndeed the eye that loves exquisite colour can never weary here.\n\nThe rich blue of the harbour is separated from the purplish indigo of\nthe great ocean by a submarine rainbow of indescribable loveliness. This\nis caused by the coral-reef, which produces a gleaming ray as if from\na hidden prism. The patches of coral, sea-weed, and sometimes white\nsand, lying at irregular depths, beneath a shallow covering of the most\ncrystalline emerald-green water, produce every shade of aqua marine,\nmauve, sienna, and orange, all marvellously blended. The shades are\ncontinually varying with the ebb and flow of the tide, which at high\nwater covers the reef to the depth of several feet, while at low tide\npatches here and there stand high and dry, or are covered by only a few\ninches of water; treacherous ground, however, on which to land, as the\nsharp coral spikes break under the feet, cutting the thickest leather,\nand perhaps landing you in a hole several feet in depth, with still\nsharper coral down below. The highest edge of the reef lies towards the\nocean, and a line of dazzling white surf marks where the great green\nbreakers wage their ceaseless warfare on the barrier; but the passage\nthrough the reef is plainly marked by a break in the white line, and a\nbroad roadway of deep blue connecting the inner waters with the great\ndeep; and this, again, passes in gradual gradations of colour, from the\nintense blue of the harbour to the glittering green of the shallow water\non the inner side of the reef. Altogether it is most fascinating. The\nscene is loveliest at noon, when the sun is right overhead, and lights up\nthe colours beneath the water on the coral caves. Also you must be some\nway up the hill to get a good view of the reef. Of the radiant opal tints\nwhich overspread sea, isles, and sky, at the outgoings of morning and\nevening, I need not tell you; our own northern shores supply sunrise and\nsunset colours more vivid than we often see in the tropics.\n\nThis afternoon has been one of unmitigated enjoyment spent on the\nreef, where for so many days I have enviously watched the Fijian girls\ndisporting themselves at low tide, and bringing back baskets full of all\nsort of curious fish, many of them literally rainbow-coloured. Some are\nmost gorgeous, and are called parrot-fish. They have large bony beaks,\nrather than ordinary mouths, to enable them to feed on the coral, which\nat certain seasons are said to be \u201cin flower,\u201d and very unwholesome; so\nwe always eat these radiant fish with some qualms, and not without good\nreason, for some people have had the ill-luck to get poisoned, and have\nsuffered severely in consequence.\n\nOur great authority on all questions of natural history is Mr Layard\n(brother of Nineveh Layard), who, before annexation, held the office of\nBritish Consul in this place. He and his son have a special talent for\ncapturing strange monsters of the deep, and I never call on Mrs Layard\nwithout her showing me some new object of interest. They live in a large\nold wooden house, built on the very edge of the water; in fact, the sea\nwashes up underneath the verandah, which opens on to a long wooden pier\nin the last stages of decay. I should think the position most unsafe,\nin view of possible tidal waves, especially as a small mountain stream\n(which occasionally becomes a torrent) washes one side of the house,\u2014so\nthat from one window the inmates can have fresh-water fishing, and from\nthe other salt. That old pier has been a source of infinite pleasure to\nmany. It enables Mrs Layard to have a little fresh air, and a small\nwalk, without venturing among the broken bottles and mud which form the\nbeach; and her husband and son thence capture many strange creatures\nwhen they have not time to row off to the reef, which is, of course, the\nvery ideal of a naturalist\u2019s happy hunting-grounds, and there they took\nme this afternoon. You really cannot imagine anything more lovely than\nit was. The first essential is to go in a boat which draws very little\nwater, and which has no new paint to be considered. Then when the tide is\nlow, and the sea without a ripple, you float idly over the coral-beds,\nsuffering your boat to lie at rest or drift with the current, as a stroke\nof the oars would disturb the clear surface of the water, beneath which\nlie such inexhaustible stores of loveliness. Every sort and kind of coral\ngrow together there, from the outstretched branches, which look like\ngarden shrubs, to the great tables of solid coral, on which lie strewn\nshells and sponges, and heaps of brain and mushroom corals.\n\nThese living shrubs assume every shade of colour: some are delicate pink\nor blue; others of a brilliant mauve; some pale primrose. But vain is the\nattempt to carry home these beautiful flowers of the sea; their colour is\ntheir life. It is, in fact, simply a gelatinous slime, which drips away,\nas the living creatures melt away and die, when exposed to the upper\nair. So the corals we know in England are merely skeletons, and very\npoor substitutes for the lovely objects we see and covet in their native\ncondition.\n\nBesides, like everything in that submarine garden, much of its charm is\nderived from the medium through which we behold it\u2014the clear translucent\nwater, which spreads a glamour of enchantment over objects already\nbeautiful, glorifying the scarlet corallines and the waving branches of\ngreen and brown weed, wherein play exquisite fish of all vivid hues and\nsizes, from the tiniest gem-like atoms which flash in the light like\nsapphires and rubies, to the great big-headed parrot-fish, which has\nstrong white teeth specially adapted for crunching the coral, and thence\nextracting the insects on which he feeds.\n\nThere are great red fish, and purple-green fish, and some of bright gold,\nwith bars or spots of black; but loveliest of all are the shoals of\nminute fish, some of the most vivid green, others of a blue that is quite\ndazzling. Some have markings so brilliant that I can only compare them to\npeacocks\u2019 feathers. These all congregate in families, and a happy life\nthey surely must have. Some of the loveliest of these are so tiny that\nyou can keep a dozen in a tumbler; others are about the length of your\nfinger. Only think what a prize they would be if we could convey them\nsafely to the great aquariums of Britain! Besides these myriads of minute\nfish, there are all manner of living creatures which peep out from their\nhomes beneath the ledges and crevices of the coral,\u2014vigilant crabs of all\nsizes and colours, and sea-anemones in endless variety, and wonderful\nspecimens of Echini.\n\nPicture to yourself first cousins of the fragile sea-eggs which used\nto rejoice our childhood, and make us marvel how they ever came\nashore unbroken. These Fijian relations are armed with spikes like\nslate-pencils, nearly as thick as your middle finger, and a good deal\nlonger. I think Mr Layard said their name is Acrocladia. To-day we\ncaptured a most extraordinary creature, a star-fish, which seemed as if\nit must be nearly related to the sea-urchin, for its fifteen arms were\neach covered with grey and orange spines, very sharp, precisely like\nthose of the echinus, while the under side was a mass of pale-yellow\nfleshy feelers, like those of a sea-anemone, with a sucker at the end of\neach. It was a strange and most interesting creature when we first beheld\nit, but looked very unhappy when it found itself in a bucket; and when\nreduced to \u201ca specimen,\u201d it will be a poor ugly object.[7]\n\nWe saw a great number of large star-fish, of the deepest Albert blue, and\ninnumerable other beautiful things, which gained greatly in interest from\nbeing shown to me by one so familiar with them all as is Mr Layard. How\nyou would delight in such an afternoon as this has been, and how the boys\nwould revel in it! It is not altogether pleasant, however, to try walking\non the reef, and you generally have to get natives to dive for anything\nparticularly good. They never seem afraid of the many sharp teeth and\nstinging creatures which may dart out from the coral; and not being\ntroubled by over-much raiment, they dive in and out like fishes (though,\nas a general rule, they do dislike wetting their hair). To them the reef\nis a source of endless amusement and profit, and at low tide there are\ngenerally some canoes lying in the shallow water; while the girls and\nyoung men are hunting for the spoils of the sea, which they carry in\nthree-cornered baskets, slung from the waist. Of course they do not care\nto spoil their simple raiment with salt water, so a considerable portion\nof their dress on these occasions consists of deep fringes and garlands\nof many-coloured leaves, which are a most becoming drapery, with their\nrich brown skin and tawny head.\n\nThe existence of these barrier-reefs is an unspeakable benefit to the\nisles, supplying them with natural breakwaters and harbours, surrounding\neach with a lagoon of calm, shallow water, on which the smallest boats\ncan ply as safely as on an inland lake, and within shelter of which they\ncan, in most places, pass from one isle to another. There is invariably\na passage through the reef opposite the mouth of any river, as the\ncoral insect cannot live within the influence of fresh water. Thus an\nentrance is secured to the haven of rest, and a very strait and narrow\nway it often is, and one which calls for careful steering, when the angry\nbreakers are dashing in mad fury on the reef on either side\u2014great rolling\nwaves curling upward in a succession of mighty walls of green water, and\nfalling in such a surging cataract of foam as would make short work of\nthe luckless canoe that should drift within their reach. Once inside the\nreef all is secure, save when some unusual storm troubles even these calm\nwaters, as it might ruffle the surface of any lake.\n\nIt is hard to realise that these mighty sea-walls are indeed the work\nof microscopic insects,\u2014star-like creatures, invisible to the naked\neye; but so it is. It is said they cannot live at a greater depth than\nthirty fathoms, yet the height of the coral-wall is in many cases double\nor treble this measurement, and in some cases a sheer descent of two\nhundred fathoms has been found. The inference is, that many of these\nisles, as well as the ocean-bed from which the coral rises, are gradually\nsubsiding, and the insects are continually working upwards. In some cases\nthe island has altogether disappeared, and there remains only a circular\nor crescent shaped reef, perhaps fringed with cocoa-palms, encircling\na calm lagoon of clear green water, the sea all round being of the\ndeepest blue. These are called _atolls_, and are sometimes many miles in\ncircumference. Some scarcely rise above the water-level, and only a ring\nof white coral sand betrays their existence.\n\nThe coral-reef gives us various hints of the rise and fall in the level\nof the ocean-bed, for while some islands have wholly disappeared, others\nare even now emerging from the waters. In some groups coral-cliffs have\nbeen found forty feet above the water-level\u2014in other words, above the\nheight where the insect could live, thus showing clearly that these rocks\nhave been gradually upheaved. But in the Fijian group there are few\nislands which are not almost encircled by a barrier-reef of considerable\ndepth, which would seem to indicate that they are actually subsiding.\nHowever, the process is likely to be a slow one, and a matter of no great\nmoment to the present generation, or their successors for many years to\ncome.\n\nI have spun a longer yarn than I intended, but it will help you to\nrealise the sort of things that I am daily looking at, and will make the\nboys wish they were with me.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _Monday, 4th October._\n\nDEAR JEAN,\u2014 ... I have just come in from such a scramble. Certainly\nthose hills of Ovalau are most tantalising. From the sea they do look\nso attractive, and not particularly difficult to ascend; but when it\ncomes to the attempt, you find that even in the rare instances where\nthe semblance of a footpath exists, it takes a very good scrambler to\nfollow it, over great boulders of rock, or up almost perpendicular banks\nof soapy mud. Should you attempt to leave the path, you find it almost\nimpossible to force a passage through the dense underwood; and even the\ntracks, which from the sea look like grass, turn out to be tall reeds,\nreaching far above your head, and matted together with strong vines\n(which totally prevent your advance), and large spiders\u2019 webs, which\ncling to your face and hair. Still, it is worth a considerable exertion,\nfor the reward of at length reaching some point whence you can look down\non the lovely sea and all the far-away isles.\n\nThis island is itself quite beautiful, though by no means a desirable one\non which to establish a capital, as it consists entirely of very steep\nhills, rising to a height of about 3000 feet, crowned with great crags,\nand rent by deep gorges densely wooded. The only available building land\nis a narrow strip on the edge of the sea; and though, of course, the\nlower spurs of the hills may gradually be dotted with villas, there is no\npossibility of extending the town unless by expensive terracing\u2014a game\nwhich would certainly not be worth the candle, as saith the proverb.\n\nI must say the little town greatly exceeds our expectations. We had\nimagined it was still the haunt of uproarious planters and white men\nof the lowest type, described by visitors a few years ago, instead of\nwhich we find a most orderly and respectable community, of about 600\nwhites, inhabiting 180 wooden houses. We are told that the reformation\nin the sobriety of the town is partly due to the Good Templars, who\nhere muster a very considerable brotherhood. Doubtless their work is\ngreatly facilitated by the increased price of gin, which in former days\nflowed like water, at the modest price of one shilling a bottle, but has\nnow risen to five times that sum. It used to be said that ships needed\nno chart to bring them to Fiji, for they would find the way marked by\nfloating gin-bottles, increasing in numbers as they approached the group.\nThose were the days when men meeting at noonday to discuss grave matters\nof business found their deliberations assisted by a jug of raw gin, to\nbe drunk in tumblers as other men would drink water! Certainly if the\nmultitude of broken bottles which strew the beach were any evidence of\nthe amount of liquor consumed, we might imagine that the old drinking\ndays were not yet wholly forgotten.\n\nThe principal shops (or stores, as they are called) lie along the beach,\nand, without much outward show, are fully stocked with all things\nneedful, which a European can buy at about one-third more than he would\npay in England. But by a singular phase of commercial morality, a native\nwishing to purchase the same article is invariably made to pay a very\nmuch higher price, and this is done quite openly, as a generally accepted\ncondition of trade! There are several respectable boarding-houses, and\ntwo or three hotels, where the planters find quarters when they come to\nthis great metropolis.\n\nI am rather afraid you will not have a very dignified idea of our\ncapital, when I confess that our great main street has only houses on one\nside, and the street itself is only a strip of rocky, muddy, or shingly\nsea-beach. Various attempts have been made to build up a low sea-wall,\nbut this is invariably washed away by the next high tide. How the houses\nescape is a mystery.\n\nOne thing that would strike you as peculiar would be to see a whole town\nwithout one chimney. There is a house which apparently has a couple,\nbut these are only ventilators. You would also be impressed by our\nmagnificent lighthouses\u2014two wooden pyramids, which, seen at a certain\nangle to one another, mark the passage through the coral-reef. These are,\nI think, the only representatives of lighthouses in this most dangerous\ngroup. But at present the colony is too poor to build any, and Mother\nEngland is too stingy to allow us any.\n\nBut whatever else is lacking, churches flourish. Besides the Wesleyan\nnative chapels, there are a large Wesleyan church for the white\npopulation, a Roman Catholic church, and an Episcopal one. We, of course,\nbelong to the latter; but at present our parson, Mr Floyd, is in New\nZealand, so all the Governor\u2019s staff take it by turns to officiate, two\nin the morning and two in the evening. They appear in surplices, and\ntake their part well. Last Sunday morning Mr Le Hunte read prayers,\nand Captain Havelock one of Robertson\u2019s sermons. Yesterday morning\nCaptain Havelock read prayers, and Mr Maudslay preached a Kingsley. In\nthe evening Mr Eyre read, and Mr Le Hunte preached; but I forget his\nsubject, for such a tremendous storm of rain came down on the zinc roof\nthat even his voice was drowned. After services we waited in vain for\nhalf an hour, and then waded home, fully a mile. Nurse and Mrs Abbey very\nsensibly left their dresses and bonnets in church!\n\nMr Floyd has one of Bishop Patteson\u2019s native clergy to assist him in a\nmission to the foreign labour, the Church of England most wisely judging\nit best to leave the Fijians wholly in the care of the Wesleyans, whose\nmission here has been so marvellously successful. But the foreign labour\ndoes seem almost a hopeless field. They are brought here from a multitude\nof isles, all talking different languages, and only remain three years in\nthe group, so that the very small numbers that can be reached, even of\nthose who find situations in Levuka, can scarcely be expected to learn\nmuch before they have to be sent back to their own isles as \u201ctime-expired\nlabour.\u201d Still, the little church does fill in the afternoons with a\nstrangely motley congregation, and doubtless some seeds of good are\ncarried back to the distant isles, which may bear fruit in due season.[8]\n\nThere is yet another congregation which I have forgotten to\nmention\u2014namely, our fellow-passengers, the company of Royal Engineers,\nwho, finding the little English church already crowded, hold service by\nthemselves in a thatched shed on the shore, open all round to admit the\nsweet sea-breeze, and overshadowed by large dark trees. It makes a very\ncool chapel, and we often linger as we pass to listen to the pleasant\nEnglish voices and hearty singing.\n\nAs I mentioned to you before, no preparation had been made to receive the\nEngineers on their arrival here, so they had to find temporary quarters\nfor themselves till they could decide where to place their barracks,\nand then build them. It was no easy matter to find healthy quarters for\nso large a body of men in such a place, and Colonel Pratt was at first\nsomewhat perplexed. By great good fortune a large empty storehouse was\nfound half-way between Nasova and the town, so there they are housed for\nthe present, and make the best of very uncomfortable quarters. They do\nlook so hot, poor fellows, going about in uniform, with small caps, under\njust such a sun as that which makes men in India wear solah _topees_ and\ncarry white umbrellas. Here (where the inhabitants take their ideas from\nAustralia or New Zealand) such precautions are considered as unnecessary,\nas are all the luxuries which others, coming from India or kindred\nlands, would deem necessaries. The Engineers, however, have sun-helmets\nsomewhere, but they are supposed to have gone on a little voyage by\nthemselves to Melbourne, and are expected to arrive in the course of a\nfew months! Colonel Pratt had considerable difficulty in getting either\ncool clothes or mosquito-nets for his men. The authorities could not\nunderstand why he should require them; and when he suggested that it was\nusual to supply such articles to troops on tropical service, the reply he\nreceived was\u2014\u201cWhy, you don\u2019t mean to say that Fiji is in the tropics?\u201d\nThat it is so we are all very well aware, but I think this is the best\ntropical climate any of us have yet found; there are few days when we\nhave not a balmy breeze and soft grey clouds, and even the midsummer\nheat of December rarely shows a thermometer above 90\u00b0. I cannot find out\nthat there is any especially rainy season, or any which is exempt from\nrain. Heavy thunderstorms are frequent at present, and I am told that\nabout Christmas there is often much rain and an occasional hurricane. The\nlatter, however, only happens once in several years; so you need not be\nin any special alarm for the safety of your dearly beloved sister,\n\n C. F. G. C.\n\n * * * * *\n\nIn one respect we are greatly disappointed in this place\u2014_there are\nscarcely any flowers_. This strikes us all the more, as we have come here\ndirect from Australia, where we left the whole country literally aflame\nwith blossom. You cannot fancy anything more lovely. And here in the\ntropics, where people always vainly imagine that flowers are so abundant,\nwe have fewer than in any place I have yet been to. Scarcely any house\nhas even a flower-bed round the windows; and the very best garden in\nthe place would, except for the beauty of its crotons and other shrubs,\nscarcely be dignified with the name in England; and yet infinite care is\nexpended on it, and a handful of roses or other blossoms of any sort is\nthe greatest boon its owner can bestow on us. As to wild flowers, I have\nwalked day after day till I was weary, without finding as many flowers as\nwould fill a small vase.\n\nThe ferns, however, are exceedingly lovely. Innumerable species grow in\nrichest profusion in every damp ravine, and great tufts of birds\u2019-nest\nand other ferns cling to the mossy boughs of the grey old trees. Every\nhere and there you come on a rocky stream or shady pool round which\nthey cluster in such luxuriance and variety, that it makes you long\nto transport the whole fairy-like dell to some place where all fern\nlovers might revel in its beauty. And this is only the undergrowth;\nfor the cool shade overhead is produced by the interwoven fronds of\ngreat tree-ferns\u2014their exquisite crown of green supported by a slender\nstem from twenty to thirty feet high, up which twine delicate creepers\nof all sorts, which steal in and out among the great fronds, and so\nweave a canopy of exquisite beauty. Loveliest of all are the delicate\nclimbing-ferns, the tender leaves of which\u2014some richly _fringed_\nwith seed\u2014hang mid-air on long hair-like trails, or else, drooping\nin festoons, climb from tree to tree, forming a perfect network of\nloveliness. It is a most fairy-like foliage, and the people show their\nreverence for its beauty by calling it the _Wa Kolo_, or God\u2019s fern.\n\nI ought to mention that though there are no flowers within reach, there\nare several flowering trees with unattainable, and, happily, not very\ntempting blossoms. They are all alike remarkable for having a most\ninsignificant calyx, and being almost entirely composed of a great bunch\nof silky stamens which fall in showers on the ground below. The most\nattractive of these is the _kaveeka_, or Malay apple, which bears tufts\nof crimson blossom especially attractive to certain lovely scarlet and\ngreen parrots with purple heads, and which in due season bears a very\njuicy though insipid crimson or white fruit. These parrots are few and\nfar between; and I miss the flocks of bright wings which so delighted me\nin my glimpse of Australian bush.\u2014Good-bye once more.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _Sunday, 31st October._\n\nDEAR EISA,\u2014The anxiously expected mail came in this morning and brought\nyour welcome letter.... I am still staying with Mrs Havelock, for the new\nrooms at Nasova progress slowly. It is very difficult to push on work in\na country where _malua_ (by-and-by) is the reigning principle in every\naction of life. But for myself, individually, I am most cosy here, and\nwe all meet continually. Lady Gordon has instituted weekly picnics just\nfor our own party, chiefly to get the gentlemen away from their incessant\nwriting.\n\nWe have already had three of these, so we have seen a good deal of this\nisle of Ovalau, and very lovely it is. We always go by boat; indeed there\nare no paths (except a footpath along the shore) where a sane man would\nventure to ride even if there were horses, which there are not. Only an\nenterprising butcher\u2019s boy ventures to clamber up day by day to bring\nneedful supplies to such houses as are perched on the steep hillsides.\nCaptain Olive also has a horse; and now Nasova owns a pony on which Abbey\ngallops into Levuka to forage for the house. The astonishment of the\nnatives at first sight of a horse knew no bounds. They gathered round it,\nexclaiming, \u201cOh, the great pig!\u201d and one rashly approached to pull its\ntail, and was considerably startled by receiving a very severe kick.\n\nI suppose you know that one of the remarkable peculiarities of these\nisles is the strange lack of animal life. There were literally no\nindigenous four-footed creatures except rats and flying-foxes, and even\nthe native rat has died out since foreign rats arrived from ships.\nEven the pigs, which in some places now run wild in the jungle, were\noriginally introduced by the Tongans, who also brought cats, ducks,\nand fowls. As to other animals, such names as _seepi_ (mutton), _goti_\n(goat), _pussi_ (cat), _ose_ (horse), _collie_[9] (dog), and _bullama\nkow_ (beef), sufficiently betray their foreign origin. Really I do miss\nthe troops of monkeys so familiar in India and Ceylon.\n\nHappily the list of Fijian reptiles is equally small, so that flies and\nmosquitoes are almost the only creatures we have to combat, and certainly\nthey are an irritating plague. We know that centipedes and scorpions\ndo exist, but they are very rare. I wish I could say as much for the\ncockroaches which infest every house, and are in their turn devoured by\nlarge spiders. I lay awake this morning watching the process. The unlucky\ncockroach contrived to get entangled in a strong web, and old Mr Spider\ndarted out and tied him up securely, and then feasted at his leisure. Of\ncourse we carefully cherish these spider allies, and glory in webs which\nwould greatly horrify your housemaids. The ants are also most energetic\nfriends, and organise burial parties for the cockroaches as fast as we\ncan kill them. Every morning we see solemn funerals moving across the\nverandah to the garden, and these are parties of about one hundred of the\ntiniest ants dragging away the corpse of a large cockroach.\n\nHappily serpents are almost unknown, and the few that exist are not\nvenomous. So we walk through densest underwood, among dead leaves and\ndecaying timber, without fear of meeting anything more alarming than\ninnocent lizards or an occasional land-crab. Of lizards I have seen a\nlarge green kind, and scores of a tiny blue and bronze, which flash like\njewels in the sunlight.\n\nEqually pleasant is the total absence of the countless species of thorny\nplants with which the whole jungle in Ceylon seemed to bristle. There I\nwas for ever being torn and scratched by cruel thorns, and every shrub\nseemed armed with sharp needles\u2014even the stems of certain kinds of\npalm-trees being covered with myriad little daggers and darning-needles\ntwo or three inches in length. Here the wild citron is the only thorny\ntree I have observed, and even that was not indigenous; so the contrast\nis highly in favour of Fiji, especially in the absence of serpents\nand other venomous reptiles. But, on the other hand, Fiji has traps\nfor the unwary quite peculiar to itself. The commonest of these is\nthe tree-nettle, which really is a large forest-tree. Beautiful but\ntreacherous are its large glossy leaves, veined with red or white, most\nattractive to the eye, but anguish to the touch;\u2014days will pass ere the\npain of that burning sting subsides. However, forewarned is forearmed,\nand you are in no danger of accidentally touching these large showy\ntrees, as you so often do the insignificant but obtrusive little nettle\nof our own woods.\n\nThere are, however, several other trees which are so intensely poisonous\nthat it is dangerous even to touch them accidentally. One of these is the\n_kaukaro_, or itch-plant, from which exudes a milky juice causing agony,\nespecially if the tiniest drop should come, even near the eye. Instances\nhave occurred when a man has ignorantly selected this wood, either as\ntimber from which to fashion his canoe, or a spar suitable for his mast;\nand incautiously sitting on the wood while carpentering, has discovered,\nwhen too late, that the subtle poison had entered by every pore, and\nthat his whole body was rapidly breaking out in angry spots, causing an\nirritation utterly unbearable, and lasting for months, sometimes years.\n\nAs regards the general foliage, it is almost identical with that of\nCeylon, though perhaps scarcely so rich. This, however, varies much on\nthe different isles, and Ovalau is more noted for cliffs than for rich\nfoliage. We shall see that in glory when we go to Taviuni. Here the only\npalm-trees are cocoa-nuts very much battered with the wind; and I miss\nthe beautiful _kittool_ and several other palms which I loved in Ceylon.\nBut I recognise various old friends, especially the large croton-tree,\nwith silvery leaves and tufts of white blossom. Here it is known as the\ncandle-nut, and reigns as monarch over an immense family of crotons\nof every shade of eccentricity both of form and colour. But the most\ngorgeous varieties are imported from isles nearer the equator.\n\nThere are several splendid trees which are quite new to me, being\npeculiar to the South Seas. Such are the _ivi_[10] (pronounced _eevie_),\nor Tahitian chestnut, and the _ndelo_,[11] with large glossy leaves like\nthe india-rubber tree. Both these are valuable as affording cool, deep\nshade. There is also the _vutu_,[12] with its blossoms like tufts of\nsilk fringe; the _tavola_,[13] or native almond-tree; and the _ndawa_,\nwhose young leaves are bright crimson, and give a gleam of colour to the\ngeneral expanse of green. Then there is the _mbaka_, which grows like\nthe sacred banyan of India, beginning its life as a humble parasite, and\nin old age presenting an intricate network of white stems, pillars, and\nroots. It bears a very small leaf.\n\nThe commonest scrub-foliage is a hybiscus, with bluish-grey leaf, and\npale primrose-coloured blossom, with a dark claret heart: it is a pretty\nflower on the tree, but dies when gathered. The inner bark yields a fibre\nwhich is greatly valued by the natives, and which they split and die\nyellow, red, or black, and make fringe kilts, to be worn either as sole\nraiment or over the _sulu_. It is also used by the fisher-folk for making\ntheir nets, especially the turtle-nets; but several other fibres are used\nfor this purpose.\n\nOn this island there really is no level ground at all; and you would\nmarvel where the people contrive to raise their crops, for the steep\nhills rise from the sea-beach. But if you were to follow the course of\nthe picturesque streamlets which find their way down dark-wooded ravines,\nyou would find that every available corner is laid out in tiny terraced\nfields, or rather miniature swamps, in which are cultivated the yams,\n_taros_, and _kumalas_ (sweet potatoes), which are the staple of native\nfood. In taste they somewhat resemble coarse potatoes, especially the\nyams, which sometimes attain a gigantic size\u2014from one to ten feet in\nlength\u2014and are said sometimes to weigh 100 lb. In some districts there\nare two yam crops in a year.\n\nThe _taro_ is of a bluish-grey colour, and both in appearance and\nconsistency resembles mottled soap. Still I rather like it. Its leaves\nare like those of our own arum on a large scale (it is of the same\nfamily, _Arum esculentum_). One kind grows to a gigantic size, and its\nhuge rich green leaves stand six or seven feet above their watery bed.\nYou may often see a few plants of this giant arum close to the door of a\nhouse, and very ornamental they are; but the object for which they were\nplaced there is to ward off the entrance of death or devils!\n\nThe leaves of the yam are like those of a convolvulus, as is also its\nhabit of growth, each plant being trained along a tall reed. There are a\ngreat many different kinds, including one the root of which is throughout\nof a vivid mauve.\n\nThere are also tiny banana-gardens in every little crevice of the rock,\nand their great glossy leaves look cool and pleasant. There are about\nthirty varieties grown on these isles, and some bear immense pendent\nbunches with from one to two hundred fruits on each. The young inner\nleaf, which has not unrolled itself, is like the finest silk, and when\nwarmed over the fire becomes quite waterproof, and is used as such. It\nis also used to tie up little bundles of sweet, oily pudding, in which\nthe people delight. Do you realise that a banana or plantain leaf is from\nthree to four feet long, and from ten to fifteen inches wide? Sometimes\nthe girls carry them as parasols, and a very attractive picture they make.\n\nThere is one fruit-bearing plant here which is just like a natural\numbrella\u2014namely, the _papaw_, which carries a handsome crown of deeply\nindented leaves on a tall curiously diapered stem, round which hangs a\ncluster of green and golden fruit, useful when unripe as a vegetable, and\nwhen ripe as a fruit. I am told that the leaves have the valuable quality\nof making tough meat tender if it is wrapped up or cooked in them; and\nalso that they are useful in washing, being saponaceous, so that if\nsoaked with dirty clothes they save a considerable amount of soap.\n\nAnother plant, which to you is familiar as ornamental greenhouse foliage,\nis the drac\u00e6na (or ti-tree, as it is called in the colonies), which\nhere is grown for the sake of its root, which is so large as sometimes\nto weigh 40 lb., and which answers the purpose of sugar. It is baked\nand used for puddings. It tastes like liquorice. The crown of long\nglossy leaves is useful as fodder where cattle exist; but here it is\nthe equivalent of so many yards of green silk, and supplies some pretty\ndamsel with a decent petticoat.\n\nThe crimson drac\u00e6na is sacred to the dead, and is constantly planted\non the graves, and very beautiful is the effect thus produced; while\noverhead droops the mournful dull green of the _noko-noko_, or\ncasurina-tree, which I can only describe as somewhat resembling the\nWeymouth pine, and which seems to sigh with every faint breath of wind\nthat stirs its pendent foliage.\n\nHere and there a small plantation of paper mulberry (_Broussonetia_),\nthe bark of which supplies material for native cloth, or a patch of\narrowroot, or perhaps a few tall sugar-canes or tufts of Indian corn,\ncomplete the common produce of the native gardens, and combine to produce\nan effect of rich and varied foliage.\n\nBut I must tell you about our picnics. As I before said, they are\nalways water-parties; so we muster several boats and canoes, and start\nas early as we possibly can to try and profit by the delicious cool\nof the morning. Our first expedition was to the neighbouring isle of\nMoturiki, which is Thakombau\u2019s own private property, specially reserved\nfrom Europeans, so the people see few white faces. There was, however,\nno staring or mobbing, and we set them down as a very polite race. The\nmoment we landed they brought us fresh cocoa-nuts to drink, and took us\nto a large native house with wide heavy thatch,\u2014and very grateful was\nits cool shade after several hours in the glaring sun. Fine mats were\nspread for us at one end of the house, which is slightly raised for use\nof \u201cthe quality\u201d\u2014an especially fine one, of a peculiar make called _tambu\nkaisi_ (forbidden to commoners), being placed for the white chief; and on\nthis, custom demands that he should sit alone, as it would be contrary to\nall native manners that even a chief\u2019s wife should sit on his mat. Not\nthat wives or women-folk are looked upon in Fiji as inferior animals:\nquite the contrary; their position is very good, and their influence\nacknowledged.\n\nSir Arthur considers that a punctilious observance of the principal\npoints in native etiquette is a means to secure respect and gain\ninfluence with the people who now hail him as their highest chief, so,\namongst other ceremonies that have to be observed, is the invariable\nbrewing of yangona (which you have heard spoken of in other groups as the\n_kava_). This, from a purely artistic point of view, is a very attractive\nscene, so I will describe it to you minutely. Picture to yourself the\ndeep shade of the house, its brown smoke-thatched rafters and dark\nthatch-roof, with a film of blue smoke rising from the fireplace at the\nfar end, which is simply a square in the floor edged with stones, round\nwhich, on mats, lie the boatmen, and a group of natives with flowers\ncoquettishly stuck in their hair, and very slight drapery of native\ncloth, and fringes of bright croton-leaves. A great wooden bowl, with\nfour legs, is then brought in. It is beautifully polished from long\nuse, and has a purple bloom like that on a grape. A rope is fastened to\nit, and the end of this is thrown towards the chief. The yangona-root\nis then brought in, scraped and cleaned, cut up into small pieces, and\ndistributed to a select circle of young men to chew. The operation is not\n_quite_ so nasty as might be supposed, as they repeatedly rinse their\nmouths with fresh water during the process, which occupies some time;\nwhile all the company sit round most solemnly, and some sing quaint\n_m\u00e9k\u00e9s_ (_i.e._, choruses), very wild and characteristic. They are so old\nthat many of them are incomprehensible even to the singers, who merely\nrepeat the words in an unknown tongue, as they learnt them from their\nparents.\n\nWhen the chewing process is complete, each man produces a lump of finely\nchewed white fibre. This is then deposited in a large wooden bowl, and\none of the number is told off to pour water on the yangona, and wring\nit out through a piece of hybiscus fibre, which is like a piece of fine\nnetting. A turbid yellowish fluid is thus produced, in taste resembling\nrhubarb and magnesia, flavoured with sal-volatile. It is handed round in\ncups made of the shell of large cocoa-nuts, the chief being the first\nto drink, while all the onlookers join in a very peculiar measured\nhand-clapping. When he is finished, they shout some exclamation in\nchorus, and clap hands in a different manner. Then all the others drink\nin regular order of precedence.\n\nThough no one pretends to like the taste of yangona, its after-effects\nare said to be so pleasantly stimulating that a considerable number of\nwhite men drink it habitually, and even insist on having it prepared by\nchewing, which is a custom imported from Tonga, and one which has never\nbeen adopted in the interior of Fiji, where the old manner of grating the\nroot is preferred. It certainly sounds less nasty, but _connoisseurs_\ndeclare with one voice that grated yangona is not comparable to that\nwhich has been chewed![14] The gentlemen all say that, sometimes when\nthey have had a very long day of hard walking, they are thankful to the\nnative who brings them this, the only stimulant which he has to offer,\nand that its effect is like sal-volatile. Confirmed drinkers acquire a\ncraving for it. Its action is peculiar, inasmuch as drunkenness from this\ncause does not affect the brain, but paralyses the muscles, so that a man\nlies helpless on the ground, perfectly aware of all that is going on.\nThis is a condition not unknown to the British sailor in Fiji.\n\nThis was the first time we had witnessed the scene, so of course we\nwere exceedingly interested. Afterwards I had a long walk through the\nbush with Sir Arthur, Mr Maudslay, and Mr Le Hunte, Lady Gordon and\nMrs Havelock preferring to rest. We had a grand scramble through\nrich vegetation, and we rested awhile in a quiet old graveyard partly\novergrown with tall grasses, the graves all edged with the black stems\nof the tree-fern; and on many there is a low, red-leafed plant; on\nothers, the tall red drac\u00e6na, with which the Fijians love to adorn the\nresting-place of their dead, as cypress or willow mark God\u2019s acre in Old\nEngland. From this calm spot we overlooked the blue Pacific, dotted with\nmany isles, chief of which is the clear-cut mountain outline of Viti\nLevu, the great isle, which I hope to visit ere long. How beautiful they\nall looked in the golden sunset light, as we rowed and sailed back to\nNasova!\n\nOur next picnic was to the romantic Levoni valley at the back of this\nisland. We sailed past Moturiki and two smaller isles, and then rowed\ntwo miles up a cool pleasant river with deep green shade till we reached\na landing-place, whence we walked a short distance to the clean, tidy\nlittle native town of Baretta. Mr Maudslay and Baron von H\u00fcgel walked all\nthe way across the mountains, a tough day\u2019s work. I walked up the valley\nwith Sir Arthur and Colonel Pratt, but stopped half-way to sketch the\nsplendid tree-ferns. We hurried back, intending to start at four o\u2019clock\nto catch the tide, but found all the children of both the Roman Catholic\nand Wesleyan schools assembled in separate flocks. They looked very nice\nwith their pretty necklaces and fringes of flowers and bright leaves worn\nover the little kilt of native cloth, and across the chest. Each party\nperformed a small _m\u00e9k\u00e9_, and did a little reading and writing, although\nCaptain Knollys, as admiral of our fleet, deemed the delay highly\nimprudent, for the tide was falling fast. As it was, we had to walk some\ndistance through mangrove-swamp and tall reeds, and it was 6 P.M. (the\ninvariable hour of sunset) ere we embarked. So we had to row home in the\ndark, in danger from many coral patches, but reached Nasova safely at 9\nP.M., the children pretty well tired out.\n\nLast Tuesday our picnic was at a pretty sandy bay, shaded by large trees,\nseven miles along the coast in the opposite direction; but Sir Arthur and\nMr Gordon were both unwell, and could not come, and Sir William Hackett\nalso failed. On our way back we landed at Waitova, where the native\npolice have their headquarters\u2014a pretty, shady place, with a pleasant\nstream, the upper pools of which were Commodore Goodenough\u2019s favourite\nbathing-place.\n\nCaptain Olive lives there with his men, in a regular native house, and\nsleeps on a pile of about twenty fine Fijian mats. He has no chair, and\nno furniture. His glass and crockery at present consist of one cup and\none tumbler. He feeds native-fashion, having his food brought to him on\nplaited trays and banana-leaves, the only remarkable object in the house\nbeing a large yangona-bowl. We went down to spend an afternoon there one\nday, and he fed us with sweet native puddings and pine-apples.\n\nWhen we landed there on Tuesday there was a large gathering of Fijians,\nplaying at throwing spears, and a game called _tinqua_\u2014which consists in\nthrowing reeds, with oval wooden heads, called _toa_, that skim along the\nground for 100 or 150 yards\u2014and other sports. They were all adorned with\nthe usual festal garlands and green leaves; their faces painted, some of\na rich black, which is truly hideous, though I do not consider scarlet\nor blue to be much better. One man was painted all over spots like a\nleopard; some wore white cloth _sulus_ as full as an opera-dancer\u2019s\nskirt; others wore little but the fringe of long black water-weed, with\na great bunch of white _tappa_, _en panier_. The Vuni Valu\u2019s daughter,\nAndi Arietta Kuilla (Lady Harriet Flag), was looking on. She is a huge,\ngood-natured-looking woman; very clever, I am told.\n\nThere was quite a stir in Levuka last Monday in honour of Miss Cudlip\u2019s\nmarriage to Mr Tucker. The bride\u2019s family being very popular in the\nisles, a large number of the planters came to it, and they had a\nmerry dance. The young couple started for their home on the big isle,\nthree days\u2019 journey in an open boat, _hoping_, if wind and tide prove\nfavourable, to be able to touch at a friend\u2019s house each night. No nice\nyacht-cabins here. I wonder how you would like such a life!\n\nNow little Rachel has come to carry me off to tea, so I must say\ngood-bye.\u2014Ever lovingly yours.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\n FIJIAN SPELLING\u2014THE FUTURE CAPITAL\u2014A PLANTER\u2019S LIFE\u2014FOREIGN\n LABOUR\u2014QUAINT POSTAGE-STAMPS.\n\n\n LEVUKA, _November 1, 1875_.\n\nMY DEAR GEORGE,\u2014We are settling down into the quietest of lives, and I\nhave no special news to give you; but the day is so lovely that I could\nnot stay in the house, so I wandered up the hill to a huge boulder of\ngrey rock, fringed with the loveliest ferns, on which I am now sitting,\nlooking across the bluest of seas to the great isle of Viti Levu, whose\nmountains lie dreamily on the horizon. I must tell you that Viti Levu\nsimply means Great Viti, which is the name by which these islands are\nalways called by their own inhabitants, the name of Fiji, which we have\nadopted, being simply the Tongan mispronunciation of the word. If you\nlook at a map of the group, you will see that this isle of Ovalau, though\nimportant by reason of its being the site of Levuka, the white men\u2019s\ncapital, is only a small isle lying off Viti Levu, as does also the tiny\nisle of Bau, on which is King Thakombau\u2019s own particular capital.\n\nOwing to the peculiarity of orthodox Fijian spelling, you must pronounce\nan _m_ before the _b_\u2014so that town is called MBau. Moreover, the sound\nof _th_ is represented by the letter _c_, so that I ought to spell\nThakombau, Cacobau; and Tholo, which is mountain, should be Colo.\nMoreover, you must always sound the letter _n_ before _d_, _g_, and\n_q_. Now, isn\u2019t this puzzling? I think you will admit the wisdom of\nmy spelling Fijian words and names as you are expected to pronounce\nthem. Certainly you could hardly be expected to understand the delicate\ncompliment conveyed to Sir Arthur in the name of a new town which is\ncalled after him, Koro-i-aco, _aco_ being the equivalent of Arthur.\n\nSpeaking of new towns, one of the principal topics of conversation here\nis the probability of the site of the capital being changed ere long, as\nLevuka is manifestly unsuited to develop into a town of such importance\nas it is hoped the capital of this new colony will ere long become. The\nfirst whites were thankful to settle here, because of being so near to\nBau, and to friendly chiefs, and so it answered their purpose very well;\nbut it is a place where there is no room for extension, and what land\nthere is, is all in private hands; and the 180 houses, such as they\nare, look as if they had been accidentally dropped all over the small\navailable space. They are all temporary buildings, either reed houses\nwith thatched roofs, or wooden houses roofed with shingles or corrugated\nzinc,\u2014most of them are just poor little cottages. The best wooden house\nwill not stand this climate for more than eight or ten years, and then\ninvolves ceaseless repairs, so everything about the place looks poor and\n\u201cdisjaskit,\u201d as the old wives in Scotland would say.\n\nThen the situation is in every respect bad. There is no stone suitable\nfor building. The high hills of Ovalau attract the rain, and the\ntemperature is higher than on other isles, never lower than 70\u00b0, and\nrising to 90\u00b0. The town faces the east, so that from early dawn the full\nheat of the sun beats on the hard cliffs of dark conglomerate rocks,\nwhich rise abruptly close round the little strip of land\u2014in all not\nthirty acres\u2014on which Levuka is built, and which is only from five to\neight feet above the ordinary high-water mark. A considerable portion of\nthis is devoted to swampy _taro_-fields; and drainage on any system is\nimpossible, because a drain would simply find the water-level. Naturally,\nthe place is not very healthy, and various other sites are proposed. Each\nof these is said to have a multitude of advantages, all of which will\nhave to be officially reported upon.\n\nNandi is recommended as having an admirable climate, several fine rivers,\ngood stone for building, and as being a good riding country, and suitable\nfor rearing cattle. But the chances seem in favour of Suva on Viti\nLevu, which also has good building stone, and a thermometer down to 72\u00b0\noccasionally. It is said to be the best harbour of refuge and port of\ncall in the group, with abundant good anchorage for many vessels, and\ninvariably smooth water\u2014a place where hurricane waves are unknown, and\nwhich is a central position, and therefore suitable for all purposes. We\nare going to see this paradise before long, so you will hear all about it.\n\nMeanwhile the chance of any change is naturally most distasteful to the\npeople who have settled here, for poor as the houses are, still they\nare homes, and any move would involve expenses which few could possibly\nafford. I had no conception till I came here that any whole community\ncould be so poor. Before we arrived we heard much about the iniquities\nof the white population, and I have no doubt that there were many who\nwere originally attracted here by the freedom from all restraint of any\ncivilised government, and to whom the anarchy of the law was anything\nbut a drawback. But those days are now a tale of the past, and what we\ndo find are apparently good, well-intentioned people, struggling to keep\nup a respectable appearance, but utterly crushed by poverty. Many have\nbattled for years in exile, enduring sore hardship and privation of every\nsort.\n\nNothing can well be imagined harder than the present position of the\nplanting community in these isles. Many of them, gentlemen by birth and\neducation, came here long years ago and sank what money they possessed\nin purchase of land and the necessary outlay thereon. Or, still oftener,\nthey started with the terrible drawback of having to borrow money at\nhigh interest\u2014a yoke which, once assumed, could rarely be shaken off.\nThen followed long, lonely years of hard toil, too often resulting only\nin bitter disappointment from failing crops or devastating hurricanes,\nwhich in a few hours swept away the fruits of months of toil. Even when\nthese disasters have not occurred, low prices and enormous expenses\nof freight to the colonies, as they call Australia or New Zealand, of\nstorage there, and finally of transit to England, have reduced profits\nto a mere cipher. And thus it is that, utterly ruined and overwhelmed\nwith debt, with health shattered by privation, and lack of what we deem\npositive necessaries of life, a very large proportion of the planters are\nleft stranded,\u2014literally without the means to get away, helpless, and\nwellnigh hopeless,\u2014living just like the natives, on yams and wild pig,\nknowing no greater luxury than a bowl of yangona, and unable from sheer\npoverty to obtain the commonest comforts of civilised life. There are\nmany houses in which beef and mutton, rice, barley, or flour, wine or\nspirits, even tea or coffee and sugar, are wellnigh forgotten luxuries.\n\nI am told that on the occasion of Sir Arthur\u2019s arrival, when about two\nhundred of these gentlemen assembled at Levuka to meet him, many were\ncompelled to absent themselves from sheer inability to face such small\nexpenses as were involved by the journey and hotel quarters. Others could\nonly meet it by bringing with them supplies of poultry and vegetables\nfor sale in Levuka. Many are unable, from sheer poverty, to hire a\nsufficient number of labourers to work the estates, which at present they\ncannot sell,\u2014all land-titles being so insecure, that until they have\nbeen formally examined and acknowledged by the British Government (Lands\nCommission), no capitalist would dream of investing in what might prove\nso worthless a speculation; and though the Lands Commission are doing\ntheir utmost to push on their work, it is a slow and difficult task,\ninvolving endless patient inquiry, and weighing of conflicting evidence.\n\nSo, at the present moment, these people actually are worse off than they\nwere before annexation\u2014a sad discovery for men who had looked on that\nevent as a magic spell which would at once disentangle this disordered\nskein. And they are now more down-hearted than ever.\n\nOnce their land-titles are proved, and they can sell their estates to\nnew-comers with full purses and fresh energy, times will doubtless\nimprove, and it will be shown what these isles are really worth. As yet\nthe golden age cannot be said to have dawned, and the resources of the\ncountry are still unknown. The cotton trade, which for a while was so\nflourishing, has for the present utterly failed, the silky sort grown\nhere having lost favour with manufacturers. Coffee, sugar, and tobacco\nare all undeveloped. At present the principal articles of trade in the\nisles are a preparation of dried cocoa-nut known as _coppra_, from which\noil is afterwards extracted, and the B\u00eaches-de-mer, a species of hideous,\nlarge, black sea-slug, which, when dried, resemble lumps of india-rubber,\nand from which the Chinese make a rich soup, said to be equal in flavour\nto that produced from the far-famed gelatinous birds\u2019 nests. This,\nand the pearly shell of a huge oyster, being natural products, afford\noccupation to many who have failed in more settled work. Consequently\na large proportion of the white men who find life in Fiji so hard a\nstruggle, are more or less directly engaged in the B\u00eaches-de-mer and\npearl-shell fisheries; and there are not wanting croakers who foresee a\ntime when this supply will be exhausted.\n\nI believe the only new settlers since annexation are two Chinamen (as\nusual, always enterprising and cheerful in face of difficulties, and\nmaking money where no one else can do so). They have just rented ten\nacres of land here to start a vegetable garden, so we foresee an abundant\nsupply for the town, and wealth for the deserving gardeners. Strange that\nno European should have thought of trying this. I do not, however, think\nthat it could ever answer for poor working men to come here\u2014certainly not\nas simple workers\u2014for, of course, no one would dream of paying wages at\nEuropean, or still less at colonial, rates, when he can get black labour\nfor so little.\n\nThe sum at which \u201cforeign labour\u201d is usually to be had is about \u00a310 for\npassage-money, and \u00a39 for three years\u2019 work. This is generally paid in\nthe form of goods to be taken home to the distant isles, and is one of\nthe points found to require special Government inspection, the quantity\nand quality of goods supplied to the unsophisticated natives by sundry\ntraders (on receipt of a planter\u2019s order for \u00a39 worth of stuff per\nhead) being by no means calculated to give the onlookers a high view of\nwhite men\u2019s commercial morality. The importation of foreign labour is\nnow entirely in the hands of a Government immigration agent, to whom\nthe owners and captains of all vessels employed in the labour trade\nare responsible for strict observance of sanitary and other rules, and\nthrough whom every master must engage his men and make all payments, and\nto whom he must return them at the date when their engagement expires,\nthat they may be restored to their own homes at the time agreed on. Of\ncourse during the term of service the employer supplies food and tobacco,\nlodging (such as it is, in most cases), medicine, and a very small\namount of raiment. But the hideous stories of kidnapping and brutal\nill-treatment on board ship, or even on plantations, are now happily\ntales of the past.\n\nThe supply of labourers is one of the vexed questions of the present, as\neach year the labour vessels bring back a smaller number of volunteers\nfrom the other groups; and the employment of Fijians on the plantations\nof white men is in no way encouraged by Government, which recognises as\nits first duty the care and preservation of these, the true owners of the\nsoil, by whose own invitation, and for whose welfare primarily, England\nhere rules. Considering how invariably dark races have been found to die\nout before the advance of the white races, the problem of whether this\nevil cannot be averted in the present instance is one of the deepest\ninterest. It is therefore considered of the utmost importance that the\nnatives should remain in their own villages, subject to their own chiefs,\nand cultivating their own lands, both for their own benefit and to enable\nthem to contribute their just proportion of the Government taxes, which\nit has been found desirable to collect in produce from gardens specially\ncultivated for this purpose by each village. Now that the number of\nthe people has been so appallingly reduced by measles, it is the more\ndesirable that those that survive should not be encouraged to leave\ntheir homes. Consequently a comparatively small number of Fijians are\nin the service of white men, who, as a rule, are not anxious to secure\nthe labour of men from neighbouring villages, but endeavour to engage\nthose from other isles, who thus are virtually as much strangers in a\nstrange land are as the labourers imported from other groups. It is said\nthat only under these circumstances are Fijians found willing to work\ndiligently on the plantations\u2014no great wonder, considering how easily\nthey can supply their own simple needs in their own homes.\n\nIt is probable that arrangements will shortly be made for importing a\nlarge supply of Hindoo coolies from Calcutta, a measure which does not at\npresent meet with cordial welcome, as of course the cost of transporting\nthem to and fro will add materially to the expenses of the planters who\nengage them.\n\nMeanwhile, on all large plantations there are representatives of half\nthe Polynesian Isles, each lot living somewhat apart from the others,\nin separate quarters, and all having distinctive characteristics to be\ndealt with and considered, their dispositions being as diverse as are\ntheir features and complexions. There are Tanna men, with long hair done\nin a multitude of tiny plaits; straight-haired Tokalaus from the Line\nIslands, with sallow skin and large dark eyes; woolly heads and grizzly\nheads of every variety from the Banks Islands and the Loyalty group, or\nErromango.\n\nThe men most sought after as really hard workers come from Tanna, in the\nNew Hebrides; while some of their nearest neighbours in the same group\nprove utterly useless. But the least popular come from the Solomon Isles,\nthese being literally untamable, preserving the instincts of their race,\nwho are all ferocious cannibals and treacherous to a degree. Some even\ncome from Santa Cruz, that name of bitter association, which, twice\nover\u2014first in 1871, and again last August\u2014has thrilled all the world\nwith horror, when two of the noblest men who ever sailed the southern\nseas, striving so lovingly to do good everywhere, fell victims to the\ntreacherous arrows of the people they would fain have helped. Of course\nyou know I allude to Bishop Patteson and Commodore Goodenough\u2014names\nworthy for evermore to be enshrined side by side among the foremost of\nChristian martyrs.\n\nJust imagine what cheerful work it must be for a planter beginning life\nin Fiji to watch for the arrival of a vessel freighted with foreign\nlabour, the wildest-looking creatures you can possibly conceive; and\nthen, having engaged a number of these for three years, to start for\nsome remote estate on a distant isle, accompanied by a horde of utterly\nuntutored savages from a dozen different groups, all having different\ncustoms and different languages, alike only in their total ignorance\nof the work required of them, and requiring to be taught everything\nfrom the very beginning. Picture to yourself having these for your\nonly companions, and knowing that they are certain to leave you at the\nexpiration of their three years\u2019 service, just when you have, by dint\nof unwearied patience and trouble, succeeded in training them in some\nmeasure.\n\nThere would be some compensation in such dismal work if it were to result\nin coining gold, and so securing a speedy return to England, or even\nthe chance of making a really comfortable home out here; but the road\nto wealth in Fiji seems to be like the approach to heaven, strait and\nnarrow, and few there be that find it.\n\nSo you see that the prospect is not altogether inviting; and as regards\nthe present state of the Isles, I should certainly not advise any one\nto come here at present to settle unless he has a good lump of money to\ninvest in land\u2014say, at least, \u00a32000\u2014and plenty capital to work it. The\nplace is frightfully expensive, and for any one dependent on his pay is\nsimply ruinous. All Government _employ\u00e9s_ have very low salaries, and\nfind it almost impossible to live; and yet every post is eagerly sought\nby dozens of white men, craving a morsel of bread.\n\nOf course it is all very delightful for me who have nothing to think\nabout, but just what enjoyment can be got out of the beautiful\nsurroundings, with heaps of pleasant companions, and everything to make\nlife agreeable, including blessed good health, which, I am thankful to\nsay, is my invariable portion. I wish I could say as much for all the\nothers, most of whom have had some twinges of illness; and all have had\nsore feet, arising, I fancy, from scratching mosquito-bites, which, in\nthis moist climate, frequently results in very painful sores. So most of\nthe party take it by turns to be lame. Mr Gordon suffers horribly from\nneuralgia, which is much encouraged by the mode of building here, the\nwalls being merely made of reeds, through which the draughts blow freely;\nand though the air that thus comes in is generally celestial, sometimes a\nstorm blows up before morning, and a cold, wet, rainy wind blows in. Last\nnight we were all awakened by a noise like thunder on the roof, which is\nof zinc, as with all foreign houses here. It was a mad rain-storm beating\nright in at the open jalousies. Some people were fairly flooded out.\nTo-day the weather is clear and lovely.\n\nI am still living with the Havelocks, who are kindness itself, and\nmake me heartily welcome to a corner of their sweet little cottage\u2014the\nnicest situation here. I am most fortunate to be with them, as Nasova\n(Government House) is still in a horrible mess, full of builders,\ncarpenters, noise\u2014no rest for any one anywhere\u2014besides being much too\nlow for the breeze\u2014actually on the sea-level. I am going off soon to\nvisit another island, Nananu, the property of Mr Leefe\u2019s brother. Mrs\nL. most kindly wrote to invite me, and to say her husband would come in\nhis boat to fetch me. One of the drawbacks to these expeditions is, that\nyou may be becalmed and kept out at sea in a tiny schooner for several\ndays,\u2014which might be awkward, to say the least of it.\n\nWe have had alarming rumours of the unsettled state of the disaffected\ntribes on the Great Island, but later reports make us believe them to\nhave been greatly exaggerated. Sir Arthur intends going there in person,\nwithout even a body-guard\u2014only sending a small body of native police\nbeforehand. Now it is growing dark, for it is past six o\u2019clock, at which\nhour the sun sets all the year round. We regret the long summer evenings,\nespecially when returning from any distant expedition. However, we shall\nhave the gain of no short days in winter. Now I must climb down from my\nrocky perch and get home while I can see my way, so good-bye.\u2014Ever yours,\n\n C. F. G. C.\n\nAmong other peculiarities of this small colony, our postage-stamps would\namuse you. They were struck by the Government which crowned Thakombau\nking, and bear his initials, C. R. (Cacobau Rex). In the present\nnecessity for rigid economy no new stamps are issued, but the letters\nV.R. partially obliterate the C.R., or rather, blend with them. Another\ncuriosity is the bank-note of the late Government, which wisely eschews\nany binding \u201cpromise to pay,\u201d and merely states that \u201cthe bearer is\nentitled to receive\u201d his due, with the _sous entendu_, \u201cDon\u2019t he wish he\nmay get it!\u201d The suggestion may prove useful nearer home!\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\n A CANOE ADVENTURE\u2014SHARKS\u2014FEVER\u2014THE FEAST OF WORMS\u2014RESULTS OF\n MISSION WORK\u2014NO MEANS OF LOCOMOTION\u2014GODS ACRE.\n\n\n LEVUKA, _November 16, 1875_.\n\nThe happiest of happy birthdays to you, my dear Nell. I suppose you are\nnot even awake yet, for you know our time is twelve hours ahead of yours.\nI wish I could look in on you all and have a long, long talk. Certainly\nit is a weary expanse of sea that separates us at present. I was within\nan ace of bringing my journeys to an end last Saturday; and as I don\u2019t\nhave many adventures to relate, I may as well tell you about it.\n\nWe were going off for one of the Governor\u2019s pleasant little picnics along\nthe coast, but somehow one of the boats was not forthcoming, so, as I\nhad always been anxious to go in a native canoe, it was agreed that I\nshould go with Mr Gordon, Mr Maudslay, and Captain Havelock, and four\nFijians, in the canoe which carried the luncheon. A canoe is built on\nthe principle of having an outrigger alongside to balance her. When the\nbig mat-sail is up, she runs like the wind; but, of course, every small\nripple that breaks over the bow pours into her hold, so that a man has\nto stand astern bailing incessantly, which he generally does by kicking\nout the water with his foot. Some of the large canoes belonging to the\nchiefs are quite beautiful; but, as luck would have it, the luncheon-boat\non this occasion was a very bad one, and unusually small, so that really\nwe perhaps overweighted her. However, what happened was, that, as we\nwere running full speed, a strong puff of wind caught us, twisted the\nsail, and ran her head under water. Of course she immediately filled, and\napparently about thirty seconds might elapse before we foundered. The\ngentlemen instinctively tightened their girths to be ready for a swim,\nwhen happily the presence of mind of the Fijians in jumping overboard,\nand the sudden righting of the sail, changed the state of affairs,\nand after a deal of hard bailing our position became somewhat more\nsatisfactory. The men rigged up a humble little sail, with which we sped\nonward at a much less exciting, but, under the circumstances, a good deal\nsurer rate, and reached our destination in capital time for luncheon.\n\nOur halt this time was under one specially grand old tree close to the\nshore (white sand and large trees are both sufficiently rare to make them\nnoteworthy on this isle of Ovalau). Of course, in coming home, room was\nmade for me in the big boat, and the gentlemen agreed to walk home\u2014rather\na stretch for Mr Gordon, who, as I told you in my last, has had a very\nsharp attack of fever and neuralgia, and was still rather low when we\ncame out. However, he seemed quite brightened up by the day\u2019s exertions,\nand has now gone off with Mr Carew to the very wildest mountain district\nin all Fiji, where the cannibal and disaffected tribes live. Baron A.\nvon H\u00fcgel went there some time ago to study the natives in their wild\nstate, and try to buy some good specimens of their work. Of course these\ndistricts are the place of all others to collect curiosities. I don\u2019t\nmean that this is Mr Gordon\u2019s reason for going there. Sir Arthur is going\nvery soon, and it is well to make straight his path.\n\nAs concerns the boat incident, you may make your mind quite easy about\nits not happening again; for all the gentlemen are naturally in mortal\nfear of swimming in a sea swarming with sharks, and they\u2019ll take good\ncare not to incur such a double risk as having to look after me at the\nsame time![15]\n\nSince I last wrote to you there has been a good deal of sickness going\nabout of an unusual description; its principal feature being, that\nwhile your pulse continues quite steady, your temperature runs up to\nany extent, and you feel good for nothing. I\u2019ve had a sharp touch of it\nmyself, enough to pull me up for boasting about never being ill. I was\nlaid up for a fortnight, which you can imagine rather astonished me.\nReally it was worth a little touch of illness to see how dear and kind\nevery member of the Fijian family could be. You yourself could not have\ntaken more care of me than did Mrs Havelock; and Lady Gordon, to whom\nwalking is such an exertion in this hot climate, came toiling up the hill\nevery day to see me, and sent me the strongest brown soups and port-wine\nto take at short intervals. Knowing how unattainable such luxuries are\nto most people on these isles, I marvel how they contrive to shake off\nsimilar attacks. Dr Macgregor, too, has proved himself a most kind friend\nand skilful doctor. He is such a good fellow. He and his wife both hail\nfrom Aberdeen, then went to Mauritius, whence Sir Arthur persuaded them\nto come here. To them, as also to Colonel Pratt, the \u2018Inverness Couriers\u2019\nafford unfailing interest.\n\nI find another centre of north-country sympathy in Mrs Havelock\u2019s nurse,\na cosy woman who has taken great care of me during my illness. She lived\nin Scotland for many years, till her husband\u2019s regiment was ordered to\nSeychelles, where Captain Havelock was then acting Governor. She has a\nvivid recollection of Roualeyn; so has the carpenter who comes to work\nhere. But so it is wherever I find Scotchmen. As to Dr Macgregor, he has\nknown his book[16] by heart since he was ten years old! Now I really have\nnothing more to tell you. We are near midsummer, and have cold blustering\nwinds and sharp showers. A fine day is quite exceptional. Good-bye. Love\nto each and all.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _Monday, November 22, 1875._\n\nDEAREST BESSIE,\u2014I suppose Nell told you about my having an attack of\nfever. I\u2019m all right again now, though not very strong yet. While I\nremember, I want you to tell the boys about an extraordinary fact in\nnatural history, which, is, I believe, peculiar to these islands. It\nis called \u201cThe Balolo Festival\u201d\u2014in other words, The Feast of Worms\u2014and\noccurred yesterday. The balolo[17] is a small sea-worm, long and thin as\nordinary vermicelli. Some are fully a yard long; others about an inch. It\nhas a jointed body and many legs, and lives in the deep sea.\n\nOnly on two days in the whole year do these creatures come to the surface\nof the water. The first day is in October, which is hence called \u201cLittle\nBalolo,\u201d when only a few appear. The natives know exactly when they are\ndue, and are all on the look-out for them. They make their calculations\nby the position of certain stars. After this no more are seen till the\nhigh tide of the full moon, which occurs between the 20th and 25th of\nNovember, which hence takes the name of \u201cGreat Balolo,\u201d when they rise to\nthe surface in countless myriads, always before daybreak. In the Samoan\nIsles the day occurs about a fortnight earlier. At certain well-known\npoints near the reefs, the whole sea, to the depth of several inches, is\nsimply alive with these red, green, and brown creatures, which form one\nwrithing mass, and are pursued by shoals of fish of all sizes, which come\nto share the feast with the human beings. The latter are in a state of\nthe wildest excitement, for it is the merriest day of the year, and is\nlooked forward to from one November to the next by all the young folk.\n\nAbout midnight they go out in their canoes, and anxiously await the\nappearance of the first few worms, and great is the struggle to secure\nthese, which herald the approach of untold myriads. For several hours\nthere is the merriest sport and laughter, every one bailing up the\nworms and trying who can most quickly fill his canoe, either by fair\nsport or by stealing from his neighbour. All is noise, scrambling, and\nexcitement, the lads and lasses each carrying wicker-baskets with which\nthey capture the worms without carrying too much salt water on board. As\nthe day dawns, these mysterious creatures with one accord sink once more\nto their native depths, and by the moment of sunrise not one remains on\nthe surface; nor will another be seen for a twelvemonth, when, true to\nits festival, the balolo will certainly return. Never has it been known\nto fail, in the memory of the oldest inhabitant, white or brown. Nor is\nthere any record of any one having seen one rise to the surface on any\nsave the two appointed days, which are known as the \u201cLittle Balolo\u201d and\n\u201cGreat Balolo.\u201d\n\nWell do the natives know how needless it would be to look for one after\nsunrise, so all the canoes then return to land, wrap their balolo in\nbread-fruit leaves, cook them in ovens dug on the beach, and have a great\nfeast\u2014a regular whitebait dinner, in fact. So now you know the true\nmeaning of the \u201cDiet of Worms.\u201d So great is the quantity taken, that the\nsupply generally lasts for several days, being warmed up when required;\nand basketfuls are sent to friends at a distance, just as we in Scotland\nsend a box of grouse. Such is our prejudice against all manner of worms,\nthat few Europeans appreciate this dainty, which nevertheless is really\nnot nasty, especially when eaten like potted meat, with bread and butter.\nIt is rather like spinage, with a flavour of the sea,\u2014perhaps I should\ncompare it with the laver of the Scilly Isles. Captain Olive brought us\nsome to taste, which had been given him by some of the Roman Catholic\nsoldiers.\n\nSad to say, both this year and last year the full moon tide occurred on\nSunday morning, notwithstanding which, the irreligious little worms rose\nto the surface with their wonted punctuality. So rigid is the obedience\nof all the Wesleyans in the matter of Sabbatical observance, that not one\nof their canoes went out; whereas their Roman Catholic brethren, to whom\nmore laxity is allowed, went forth rejoicing. The latter, however, are a\nvery small minority, and you can imagine what an act of self-denial it\nmust be to give up this highly-valued harvest of the sea on two following\nyears. So rigid is the adherence to the letter of the old Sabbatical law\nthroughout the group, that not a canoe will put to sea except to carry a\nteacher to a place of worship; nor will a native climb a tree to fetch\na cocoa-nut, even when bribed with much coveted silver; in fact, the\noffer of silver is considered as a Satanic temptation to trade on _Singha\ntambu_, the holy day. Of course, to us this seems an overstraining of\nobedience, but then these people are still like children, for whom a\nstrictly defined law has many advantages; and, moreover, many of them are\nstill in the fervour of their first faith, and they certainly are the\nmost devout race (_for Christians_) that I have ever seen.\n\nStrange indeed is the change that has come over these isles since first\nMessrs Cargill and Cross, Wesleyan missionaries, landed here, in the\nyear 1835, resolved at the hazard of their lives to bring the light of\nChristianity to these ferocious cannibals. Imagine the faith and courage\nof the two white men, without any visible protection, landing in the\nmidst of these bloodthirsty hordes, whose unknown language they had in\nthe first instance to master; and day after day witnessing such scenes as\nchill one\u2019s blood even to hear about. Many such have been described to\nme by eyewitnesses.\n\nSlow and disheartening was their labour for many years, yet so well has\nthat little leaven worked, that, with the exception of the Kai Tholos,\nthe wild highlanders, who still hold out in their mountain fastnesses,\nthe eighty inhabited isles have all abjured cannibalism and other\nfrightful customs, and have _lotued_ (_i.e._, embraced Christianity) in\nsuch good earnest as may well put to shame many more civilised nations.\n\nI often wish that some of the cavillers who are for ever sneering at\nChristian missions could see something of their results in these isles.\nBut first they would have to recall the Fiji of ten years ago, when every\nman\u2019s hand was against his neighbour, and the land had no rest from\nbarbarous intertribal wars, in which the foe, without respect of age or\nsex, were looked upon only in the light of so much beef; the prisoners\ndeliberately fattened for the slaughter; dead bodies dug up that had\nbeen buried ten or twelve days, and could only be cooked in the form of\npuddings; limbs cut off from living men and women, and cooked and eaten\nin presence of the victim, who had previously been compelled to dig the\noven, and cut the firewood for the purpose; and this not only in time of\nwar, when such atrocity might be deemed less inexcusable, but in time of\npeace, to gratify the caprice or appetite of the moment.\n\nThink of the sick buried alive; the array of widows who were deliberately\nstrangled on the death of any great man; the living victims who were\nburied beside every post of a chief\u2019s new house, and must needs stand\nclasping it, while the earth was gradually heaped over their devoted\nheads; or those who were bound hand and foot, and laid on the ground to\nact as rollers, when a chief launched a new canoe, and thus doomed to\na death of excruciating agony;\u2014a time when there was not the slightest\nsecurity for life or property, and no man knew how quickly his own hour\nof doom might come; when whole villages were depopulated simply to supply\ntheir neighbours with fresh meat!\n\nJust think of all this, and of the change that has been wrought, and\nthen just imagine white men who can sneer at missionary work in the way\nthey do. Now you may pass from isle to isle, certain everywhere to find\nthe same cordial reception by kindly men and women. Every village on\nthe eighty inhabited isles has built for itself a tidy church, and a\ngood house for its teacher or native minister, for whom the village also\nprovides food and clothing _Can you realise that there are nine hundred\nWesleyan churches in Fiji_, at every one of which the frequent services\nare crowded by devout congregations; that the schools are well attended;\nand that the first sound which greets your ear at dawn, and the last at\nnight, is that of hymn-singing and most fervent worship, rising from each\ndwelling at the hour of family prayer?\n\nWhat these people may become after much contact with the common run of\nwhite men, we cannot, of course, tell, though we may unhappily guess. At\npresent they are a body of simple and devout Christians, full of deepest\nreverence for their teachers and the message they bring, and only anxious\nto yield all obedience.\n\nOf course there are a number of white men here, as in other countries,\nwho (themselves not caring one straw about any religion) declare that\nChristianity in these isles is merely nominal, adopted as a matter of\nexpediency, and that half the people are still heathen at heart. Even\nwere this true (and all outward signs go to disprove it), I wonder what\nsuch cavillers expect! I wonder if they know by what gradual steps our\nown British ancestors yielded to the Light, and for how many centuries\nidolatrous customs continued to prevail in our own isles! Yet here all\ntraces of idolatry are utterly swept away.\n\nI wonder, too, if they ever remember that out of the four million\ninhabitants of London, one million are not recognised as even nominal\nmembers of any Christian sect; that of that million an exceedingly\nsmall number have, even once or twice in their lives, entered any place\nof worship; and of the remainder, I think, the largest charity could\nscarcely recognise many by any mark of special uprightness or devotion!\nIt would be strange indeed, therefore, if these new converts had suddenly\nacquired a monopoly of Christian virtues.\n\nIt is painfully suggestive to know that the thing chiefly deprecated\nby all who have the welfare of the people at heart, is their acquiring\nEnglish, or being thrown in the way of foreigners.\n\nI hope you won\u2019t think this a very long-winded letter. It is the last\nI shall write to you from Mrs Havelock\u2019s pleasant little home, for the\nworkmen have been getting on with the new house at Nasova, and to-day\nI am going to rejoin Lady Gordon there. Of course we have been meeting\nalmost every day, as this house is on a small hill close by. In fact,\nthis is the better situation of the two, being on a headland which\ncatches every breeze; whereas Nasova is too much sheltered, and actually\non the sea-level. There are only a dozen steps from the dining-room to\nthe pier, from which, by the way, the gentlemen bathe every morning, in\nutter defiance of the sharks, which have been seen quite close to them.\nIt certainly is risky.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NASOVA, _November 30, 1875_.\n\nMY DEAREST NELL,\u2014Immense excitement prevailed here last night, the\nColonial Secretary coming down to rouse up the Governor and staff, just\nas they had got comfortably to bed after a grand Levuka ball, to announce\nthat, after all our doubts and fears, a large steamer has come with mails\nfrom San Francisco. We fear she has only come once in a way, not knowing\nthe cruel decision of the New Zealand Government not to call here.\nAnyhow she will take our letters this time, so I may as well begin one,\nespecially as it may be some time before I write again; for, two days\nhence, I am going with the Governor, Lady Gordon, Mr Maudslay, and the\nchildren, in the new little Government steamer to Suva, on Viti Levu[18]\n(Great Fiji). There is a good deal of work going on here, such as pulling\ndown of old native huts, and levelling of earth, and painting the new\nhouse; and Dr Macgregor wants to get rid of us all till it is finished,\nso Sir Arthur has taken the so-called hotel, an empty house, at Suva, the\nproposed site of the new Capital. It will be very good for the children\nto have change of air. When they are snugly settled we are to go on to\nthe Rewa, a very fertile district. If we have such lovely weather as this\nlast week has been, it will be pleasant. But last night it poured, and\nlooks as if it meant to do so again, which would spoil everything.\n\nFrom Rewa I am going on a grand expedition with the Langhams. Mr L. is\nthe head of the Wesleyan Mission here. He and his wife travelled with us\nfrom Sydney, and we made great friends, and now they have asked me to\ngo with them on a three weeks\u2019 cruise up the Rewa river. We shall sleep\nevery night in Fijian houses\u2014large reed-huts\u2014so we shall travel really in\ncorrect style, and yet quite comfortably. It is a great thing for me to\nhave this chance, as none of our own set (Lady Gordon, Lady Halkett, Mrs\nde Ricci, Mrs Havelock, or Mrs Macgregor) ever care to leave their own\nroofs.\n\nSince I last wrote I have moved down from Mrs Havelock\u2019s house to Nasova,\nwhere the new house is so far on that the children are sleeping in the\nlarge new drawing-room, and I am in possession of their nursery. But my\nown room is now quite ready; and I was busy yesterday, with the help of\nan acute darkie (Hindoo), in making it all cosy, putting up shelves, and\nhooks, and brackets, and pictures; and by the time I come back the garden\nin front of the windows will be quite in order and full of flowers.\nThey do grow well here when any one takes any trouble; and Sir Arthur\u2019s\nhead man, Abbey, is possessed of an unbounded energy, which delights in\norganising everything. He works himself, and struggles to make a troop of\nidle careless Fijians do likewise, so garden, farm, and everything else\nare taking shape. He goes with us to Suva. Captain Knollys remains here\nin charge of everything, and to try to get the work done. He has command\nof a large body of Fijian police, or soldiers, who are always on guard\nhere\u2014picturesque people\u2014who keep the place alive, and are to us a source\nof endless interest and amusement. There are also a lot of Engineers\nliving in a native house on the green in front, so there is no lack of\nhuman beings about the place.\n\nTwo days ago a large German man-of-war came in, the Gazelle: her band\ncame and played here, and the Levuka world came to listen. Last night\nthe German residents gave them a ball; but our distance from the scene\nof action (a long mile of vile footpath, and no alternative but walking)\nfranks us ladies from appearing at any of these festivities.[19] There is\nliterally no means of being carried, such as we are accustomed to find\nin all Eastern lands. Palanquins, sedan-chairs, dandies, kangos, and\nall such substitutes for carriages, are alike unknown, and if imported,\nit would be impossible to induce men to carry them (at least so we are\ntold). So there is nothing for it but to tramp, either in the fierce sun,\nor, if after sunset, carrying lanterns to enable us to avoid the many\nsnares and pit-falls of the great highroad. Some of the officers of the\nGazelle lunched here yesterday, and some more dine to-night. They talk\nvery good English.\n\nThe only other events of the week have been two very sad deaths. One\nwas that of the contractor for part of this house, a young man, only\nmarried three months ago; the other, a fine boy of twelve, who climbed a\n_keveeka_-tree, overhanging a rocky burn, to get bunches of red blossoms,\nand, alas! fell off on to the cruel boulders, fracturing his leg and arm,\nand doing internal injury besides. For a week they thought he might live,\nbut the lock-jaw set in, as it commonly does in these climates, from\nvery slight wounds (as in the cases of Bishop Patteson and Commodore\nGoodenough, and their men), and the poor fellow died. He is one of a\nlarge family; they are in dire grief, as you can fancy. His little\nbrother was in the tree with him, and says he almost fainted with terror\nwhen he saw his brother fall, and can\u2019t think how he got down himself.\nIt made us all think of \u2018Misunderstood\u2019! The cemetery lies on a pleasant\nhill, one mile further along the shore, so we saw both funerals go past.\nThe poor carpenter\u2019s coffin was rowed in a boat, his friends following\nby the shore. But the boy\u2019s funeral, which was a Roman Catholic one, was\nmore ceremonial, and followed by a great number of children carrying\nflowers. I think the poor little brothers and sisters go to the grave\nalmost daily.\n\nI don\u2019t think there\u2019s anything else to tell you, and I must get on with\nmy preparations for the trip. I have got your photograph in the white\nframe, just in front of me, with such a lovely red rose and gardenia, and\nbit of stag\u2019s-horn moss, beside it.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\n\n LIFE ON VITI LEVU\u2014SUVA\u2014A FLORAL CLOCK\u2014THE REWA RIVER\u2014OBSOLETE\n CUSTOMS\u2014FIRST NIGHT IN A NATIVE HOUSE.\n\n\n SUVA, IN VITI LEVU (GREAT FIJI), _December 10th_.\n\nDEAR EISA,\u2014I find there is a chance of a mail to England, so, though I\nam dead beat, I send just a line to say I am flourishing and in lovely\nscenery, with many kind folk. Perhaps by the time this reaches you, you\nwill have seen my last to Nelly, written just as we started on this\ncruise. The children wanted change, so Sir Arthur rented this big house,\nwhich was formerly a hotel, and brought us all here in the Government\nsteamer. The house would all go into one average room at home, but by\nmeans of partitions half-way to the ceiling, the upper floor is divided\ninto a sitting-room and six stalls for sleeping in. Of course it is\npractically all one room.\n\nThere is only one other house here, the home of Mr Joski, a\nsugar-planter. His family are very kind, and do all in their power to\nmake us comfortable. There is a large sugar-mill here, and the near\nhills are covered with cane; but this is, unfortunately, one of the\ndistricts where sugar has failed, and the planters are hopelessly ruined.\nIt is so sad to see the deserted sugar-mill, and the fields of cane that\nare not considered worth cutting. It was absurd folly ever to plant cane\nat this place, the soil being scanty and utterly unsuitable. But this is\none of the sites which runs the best chance of being chosen as the new\ncapital (of the pauper colony), in which case the landowners will some\nday be rich.\n\nThis harbour is simply lovely. From the flat (which is the site of the\ntown in the air) we look across to hills in form like those of Torridon\nin Ross-shire, but covered with densest tropical vegetation, and watered\nby many rivers, each lovelier than the last. There are four of these\nquite near together, and every afternoon we explore one or other in the\nGovernor\u2019s charming boat, rowed by half-a-dozen brown beings with great\nfuzzy heads, and wearing a becoming dress of white, trimmed with crimson.\n\nThis morning I had a good walk in the early morning to get a sketch\nfrom a lovely site. Then after breakfast we rowed up one of the rivers,\nand lunched on a grassy bank under a shady citron-tree, as far up as we\ncould take the boat. The vegetation was too exquisite. We found several\norchids new to us, and a lovely pink-and-white wax-like creeper. I never\nsaw such wealth of ferns of every sort and kind, specially hundreds of\ntall tree-ferns, with stems about thirty feet, and masses of one like a\ngigantic Osmunda. I never can find seeds of the grandest, but I send you\nsuch as I have.\n\nWe had an amusing expedition yesterday. I started early with Miss Joski,\nand our route lay along the top of the ridge, tall reeds far over our\nheads. Before we were aware of its approach, a tropical shower came on,\nand we were drenched (of course my dear shiny waterproof kept me dry, but\nmy companion was soaked), so we made for a house where a good old Irish\ncouple lived, with a troop of babies. They were just getting up. But in\nwe marched, and prayed for dry clothes; and the good woman clothed Miss\nJoski from head to foot, and supplied me with dry stockings and boots.\nThen we joined our picnic breakfast to theirs. They insisted on killing\na chicken in our honour; and our mutton sandwiches were a rare prize in\na district where butcher-meat is unattainable. By this time the day was\nglorious, and we sketched till afternoon.\n\nSuch a view, and such a flight of stairs down to the sea\u2014a quarter of a\nmile, and almost perpendicular!\n\nTo-morrow early we all start for the Rewa, another district, where there\nis a great native gathering to meet the Governor. Half of the charm of\nwandering in these mountains is the knowledge that two years ago we\nshould certainly have been eaten!\n\nAn express arrived yesterday from Levuka with English mails, and brought\nme a letter from Janie. Tell her I nearly lost my rings last Monday. We\nhad been lunching up the inner harbour; the gentlemen had all gone off\nexpeditionising, and Lady Gordon and I were sitting by the river with\nonly Jack and Nevil, when a native woman came and crouched beside us. We\ngave her cakes and biscuits to encourage her, as we could not exchange\nwords. Then she pointed admiringly to our rings, wishing to try them on;\nso I put mine on her hand, little dreaming that Fiji custom sanctions\nasking for anything you happen to fancy, and that it is an unheard-of\nbreach of manners not to give it. So a moment later I looked up from my\ndrawing just in time to see the proud woman disappearing in the bush with\nher prize! Of course I rescued my treasures, but fear she will think we\nwere very ill bred!\n\nOn Sunday we walked along the shore, and then by a path through the\nabandoned sugar-fields, till we came to the little native church, where,\nmuch to our amusement, the teacher told us that he regulates the hour\nof service by the opening of a Bauhinia blossom. He has no clock, but\nwhen the flower opens he beats the wooden _lali_, or drum, and then the\npeople assemble. We watched this floral timepiece expand its blossoms to\nthe early light; and then the congregation came trooping in to a quiet,\nearnest service, with singing, prayer, and preaching\u2014all very devout. Of\ncourse the words spoken were to me only a sound, but rich and musical,\nfull of vowels, and very like Italian. There is a great charm in such\na scene; and as we sat on the mats during the sermon, it was pleasant\nto look out from the cool shade of the church, through the many open\ndoors, to the calm blue sea and sky, seen through a frame of golden-green\nsugar-canes, the leaves just rustling in the faint breeze. Now I must\nstop; so good-bye.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NAVOUNINDRALA,[20] ON THE REWA _Monday, 13th Dec._\n\nDEAREST EISA,\u2014In my last letters home I mentioned that we were just\nstarting for Rewa, where there is a great meeting of chiefs to welcome\nSir Arthur and Lady Gordon, and it was arranged that I was then to join\nthe Langhams on a voyage far up the river, where they are going to visit\nseveral new mission stations, among tribes who only a few months ago\ndetermined to become Christian, and requested that teachers might be sent\nto them. Native teachers were accordingly sent, and it is partly to judge\nof their progress that this expedition was planned.\n\nStarting from Suva in a head wind, about six hours\u2019 hard rowing brought\nus to the Rewa, which is certainly a very fine river\u2014the largest of the\nmain island, Viti Levu, and navigable for fifty miles. It receives the\nwaters of various mountain-streams (navigable only by canoes), and itself\nbecomes so large a body of water, that, ere reaching the town of Rewa,\nits width is about equal to that of the Thames at London Bridge. Here it\ndivides into a network of streams, and enters the sea by many mouths, all\nbordered with the monotonous green of the mangrove, which overspreads the\ndreary swamp with its extraordinary and intricate network of roots. We\npassed through some miles of this strange mangrove country, starting an\ninnumerable number of wild duck, and at last reached Rewa,[21] which is\na large village of the invariable thatched houses. Here we found a great\ngathering of the people to receive the Governor, on his first visit to\nthis town; and as his boat approached, the river-banks were thronged with\nnative chiefs and their followers, all squatting on the ground, in the\ncorrect attitude of respect\u2014for Fijian etiquette prohibits an inferior\nfrom standing in presence of a superior, as strictly as it forbids him\npassing behind him.\n\nSo great a concourse of people had rarely, if ever, been seen at Rewa:\nit was calculated that nearly 5000 were present, a number the more\nremarkable as the ravages of the measles last spring were peculiarly felt\nin this district, where it is computed that 8000 perished, including no\nless than ninety teachers, all carefully trained men,\u2014a loss which cannot\neasily be replaced.\n\nGreat were the preparations for the native festivities on the morrow, and\nyou can imagine my dismay on learning that, owing to the irregularity of\nposts, and the day for this ceremony having been repeatedly deferred, Mr\nLangham had made all his arrangements for starting from Rewa that very\nday. And, in truth, we had not landed five minutes, when the mission boat\narrived from Bau. Complicated arrangements had been made for teachers\nand people to come from distant points and meet us at different villages\non each day of the week, so that delay was impossible. Consequently\nI was obliged to give up one thing or the other, which was intensely\naggravating; but, on weighing both, the expedition into the interior\nwas voted the more important; and so, with many regrets, I turned away\nfrom Rewa and its picturesque crowds, merely halting long enough to get\nsome tea from Mrs Webb at the ever-hospitable Wesleyan mission station.\nThen we embarked in the large mission boat,\u2014Mr and Mrs Langham and\nmyself, rowed by half-a-dozen stalwart young students from the training\ninstitution at Bau.\n\nWe had to row six miles up the river against wind and tide, and we were\nall very weary, especially the student boatmen, who had rowed nearly all\nthe way from Bau, and whose time grew slower and slower, till I counted\ntwelve seconds between each stroke. The sun was setting when we started,\nand shed a golden glow over the low flat shores of the river, where we\nhailed the sight of many cattle, pastured in real grassy meadows,\u2014the\nfirst we have seen in Fiji. The soil here is richly alluvial, and from\nfourteen to fifteen feet in depth. It is expected to yield large returns\nto sugar-planters.\n\nHappily we had a glorious full moon, which made night clear as day;\nbut it was past ten ere we reached Navousi, the house of Andi Kuilla,\nThakombau\u2019s favourite daughter, who was absent, and her people did not\nexpect us till two days later; so her house was shut up, and there was\nsome delay before a fire was lighted, water brought, tea made, and supper\neaten, and our mosquito-nets hung up, and then family prayers in Fijian.\nSo it was 12.30 before we turned in. It was my first night in a native\nhouse, which consists only of one large room for everybody. In a very\nfine chief\u2019s house, such as this, large curtains of native cloth are\nhung up at night to divide the upper end into several snug compartments.\nThere is no furniture whatever; and a pile of soft mats is the only\nbedding required. A Fijian pillow consists of a bamboo, or a bar of\nwood, standing on two wooden legs, six inches high, which supports the\nneck only (very much like the pillows of the Kaffirs, and on the same\nprinciple as those of Japan). Here it was invented to avoid spoiling\nthe elaborately dressed hair, which formerly was a most important\nconsideration. We, being given to luxury, each carry a soft pillow for\nour weary heads, and very fine nets to shield us from the attacks, not\nonly of mosquitoes, but of a vicious, virulent, though scarcely visible,\nsand-fly, which infests the mangrove swamp and many parts of the river.\nWe also carry sheets and a blanket in case of cold nights, and pieces,\nthree yards long, of strong American cloth, to keep our bedding dry;\nalso plaids, which we can hang up to build ourselves tiny rooms within\nthe great public room, where all the boatmen, and sometimes many other\npeople, will sleep.\n\nI was sorry that Andi Arietta Kuilla was not at home; I have met her\nat Nasova, and also seen her fishing with her maidens of noble birth,\nall clad in the lightest raiment, consisting chiefly of daintily woven\ngarlands\u2014for fishing, you must know, means bathing, and fun and frolic,\nin the warm bright sea. But here at Navousi she is the dignified widow of\na very high chief of this district, which she rules with masculine vigour\nand wisdom.\n\nAt daybreak we again embarked and proceeded up the river, frequently\nhalting to call at the houses of English planters. Everywhere we heard\nthe same distressing tale of failure and loss: worthless crops, or good\ncrops lost by untoward delays of one sort or another; falling prices and\nruined markets, and the sickening sinking of spirit by reason of hope\ndeferred, because annexation had failed to act as a magic wand, at whose\nmere approach all grievances would be righted, and each man see his own\nheart\u2019s desire fulfilled. At every house where we halted, we profited by\nthat excellent institution of the colonies, tea at all hours\u2014which we\naccepted the more readily knowing that we were bidding a long farewell\nto milk. But the tale of poverty was one which needed no telling, for\nit was too plainly written on every side, especially in the untidy,\nuncared-for homes. Of course there are exceptions, and we called at two\nhouses whose gardens bright with scarlet hybiscus and other blossoms\nwere pleasant to behold, and where generous gifts of oranges, from laden\ntrees, were a welcome addition to our stores.\n\nIt was sunset ere we reached our destination, the village of Delandamanu\n(_i.e._, the hill on whose top the _damanu_-trees grow), where it was\narranged that we should sleep in the church\u2014somewhat a startling idea at\nfirst, but one which seemed less unnatural from the fact of the church\nbeing just like any other clean, well-matted house; and of course all our\nfood was brought in ready cooked. So we rigged up our tents as usual,\nand, for once, slept in church with full permission from the parson!\n\nIn truth we had good reason to rejoice in our position, commanding a\nvery lovely view of shapely mountain-ranges, and of the river winding\nthrough rich green country. The church stands on the side of a tiny hill,\non the summit of which is the village graveyard. I observe these are\nalmost invariably on hill-tops, generally very secluded, and in beautiful\nsituations. They are often tasteful and well cared for, overshadowed by\nthe mournful casurina or ironwood tree, called in Fijian _noko noko_,\nand adorned with tall red-leaved shrubs, drac\u00e6na, and others. The graves\nthemselves are sometimes conical heaps of red earth, with white sand on\nthe top, sometimes covered with small green pebbles, brought from afar,\nand sometimes merely edged with tree-fern wood. This one is peculiar,\ninasmuch as, although the dead are buried horizontally, the external\ngrave slopes with the hill.\n\nHere we lingered long in the clear, beautiful moonlight, and here we\nreturned with the first ray of dawn. A very old man, a Fijian version\nof Old Mortality, lives on the extreme summit of the little hill, and\nhas charge of the village drums\u2014I mean the wooden _lalis_, which used to\nbe called _lali mbokolo_ (meaning the drum for the cannibal feast), but\nwhich now send forth their deep booming tones only to call the people\nto school or church. I should like to have stayed a good while at this\nplace to sketch, and Mr Langham promises a longer halt on our return; but\nthis time we had to hurry on and start at 6 A.M., having previously had\nprayers and breakfast.\n\nIt did feel so odd to be living in a church! Happily it was beautifully\nclean. And oh, what a contrast to the house of a family of white planters\nwhere we called that day! The very picture of a poverty-stricken home.\nAn English cottager would refuse to live in such a house, with its\nbroken earthen floor. Such a contrast to the comfortable, thick, clean\nmats in the native houses we have been in. Yet white men in general\nseem to consider that they are bringing their families low indeed when\nthey adopt a purely native house as home, and mats in lieu of chairs.\nPerhaps they are right, though for my own part I think I must confess\nto having rather a weakness for Fijian mat life. No doubt it tends to\nfoster that indolence which is the bane of the islanders; and there is\nno denying that when once you have sunk down to rest on these soft,\ncool, tempting mats in the semi-darkness of a Fijian house, you do feel\nsorely disinclined to rise thence without very good cause. When this\nbecomes a habit, it is a recognised evil known as mat-fever! Certainly\nthe hard wooden chairs, or old, broken, worn-out sofas of these poor\nwhite homes, are in no danger of pampering habits of luxury. Yet at this\nplace there were two bright lasses contriving to grow up somehow, and one\nof them reminded me of \u2018Cometh up as a Flower,\u2019 with her glorious halo\nof tangled yellow hair. This was the furthest point at which we found a\nwhite family. There were other neighbours, but after long battling with\nfailing crops and ever-deepening poverty, they have all left the country\nin despair.\n\nA messenger has just arrived from Rewa bringing us letters. Mine is\nanother proof of the utter irregularity of posts which depend on vague\nsailing-boats. Six weeks ago I accepted an invitation to go to the\nLeefes\u2019 at Nananu, only a day\u2019s sail from Levuka. Receiving no further\nmessage, I wrote, a fortnight later, to put off that visit for the\npresent; and now I have a letter from Mr Leefe, who had come to Levuka\nat great inconvenience to fetch me; and though the distance _is_ \u201conly a\nday\u2019s sail,\u201d it may involve a detention of many days.\n\nWe have been here for four days, as it is a large central district;\nand are very cosily housed with \u201cRichard,\u201d the village teacher, a fine\nhandsome fellow of the upper class, and one who takes pride in having his\nhouse a pattern of neatness and order, greatly to our comfort. Yesterday\nbeing Sunday, our crew dispersed at daybreak to hold services in many\ndistant villages in remote valleys just emerging from heathenism. I\nscarcely recognised them when they all appeared in their clean white\nshirts and _sulus_, their ordinary working dress being merely a _sulu_,\nwith wreaths of green leaves hanging in fringes from the waist and\nshoulders. But they are very particular about their Sunday shirts being\nwell starched and ironed, and Mrs Langham\u2019s nice Fijian girl, who helps\nthem with their washing, has to bestow greater care on their garments\nthan on her master\u2019s. I think I told you that they are students from\nthe Mission Institute\u2014fine young fellows destined to become teachers or\nnative ministers, according to their capacity, and in the meantime doing\nwhat they can by teaching in the villages through which they pass.\n\nThe mission has in each district a certain number of such lads in\ntraining, and these, amongst them, do whatever work is required in the\nhouse and about the premises. Thence the most promising are drafted off\nto the college at Navouloa, which lies half-way between Rewa and Bau,\nwhere, after careful training, their ultimate destination is decided.\n\nYou can imagine it is by no means an easy matter to keep 1400 schools\nsupplied with teachers, though the people themselves are quite willing to\nsupport them. At the present moment this difficulty is greatly increased,\nowing to the number of teachers who died in the measles. Mr Webb has\nlost ninety, and Mr Langham forty; and other districts have suffered in\nproportion.\n\nThe house is at this moment full of people, who have assembled from far\nand near to talk to Mr or Mrs Langham\u2014men, women, and children. Naturally\nthere is a considerable amount of chattering, to me incomprehensible. But\nit sounds musical, and rather like Italian, liquid, and full of vowels;\nnot only simple vowels, but compounds, in which each letter is distinctly\nsounded, as _ai_, _au_, _ei_, _eu_, _oi_, _ou_, and _iu_. There are very\nfew guttural or hissing sounds. You constantly hear names in which every\nother letter is a vowel, as, for example, Namosimalua, Natavutololo,\nNaivuruvuru, Verata, Verani, Ndrondro-vakawai, Lewe-ni-lovo, Vaka-loloma,\nToa-levu, &c. The first words I learnt were of course the morning and\nevening greetings. _Siandra?_ (are you awake?) _Sa mothe?_ (are you\nasleep?) to which the people add _na maramma_ (lady), or _na turanga_\n(lord), or _saka_ (sir). When they say _Eo saka_ (yes, sir) very fast, it\nsounds as if they were saying it in English, which at first, hearing it\nfrom the students, I supposed to be the case. Few and laconic are my own\nphrases. _Maroroya_ is a prayer to those around me to be careful; _kusa\nkusa_ begs them to make haste; _sara sara_ (to look about one), fully\nsatisfies any one who might wonder what I was staring at, and comes home\nto the Fijian mind as quite a natural condition; _sa legge mothe_, though\nno means courteous, advises them to go to sleep and leave me alone. What\nchiefly catches my ear are the number of words formed by reduplication,\nas _vesi vesi_, a little spear; _vale vale_, a little house; _kende\nkende_, a mountain; _noko noko_, ironwood; _vula vula_, white; _dre dre_,\ndifficult; _mothe mothe_, bed (_mothe_ means sleep); _yau yau_, mist;\n_kata kata_, boiling; _lia lia_, silly; _wai wai_, oil; _levu_ is big;\n_lei lei_, small; _vulu vulu_, cramfull; _velo velo_, a canoe; _reki\nreki_, joy; _vuvu_, jealous; _dronga dronga_, hoarse, &c. And so in the\nnames of places. I hear of Loma Loma, Somo Somo, Sau Sau, Drua Drua,\nRuku Ruku, Savu Savu, and so on. In case you care to count in Fijian,\nhere are the numerals. One, two, three, &c. _Dua_, _rua_, _tolu_, _va_,\n_lima_, _ono_, _vitu_, _walu_, _ciwa_ (_thiwa_), _tini_. Then come _tine\nka dua_, _tine ka rua_, and so on up to twenty. There are certain nouns\nwhich in themselves express numbers, as: _sasa_, ten mats; _rara_, ten\npigs; _bure_, ten clubs; _bola_, a hundred canoes; _selavo_, a thousand\ncocoa-nuts. These are used in combination with ordinary numerals, thus:\n_Rua sasa_, twenty mats; _tini selavo_, ten thousand nuts.\n\nI am told that the language is remarkably rich, and expresses minute\nshades of ideas. Thus there are three words for the possessive pronouns,\nvarying with the nature of the noun following, as _my_ food, _my_ drink,\nor _my_ canoe. Personal pronouns are equally varied; there are no less\nthan six words answering to our _we_.\n\nThere are seven words to express different conditions of weariness, six\nto express seeing, a dozen for dirty, fourteen for to cut, sixteen for\nto strike. There are separate expressions for washing clothes, house,\ndishes, feet, hands, body, face, or head; also for such varied movement\nas that of a caterpillar, a lizard, or a serpent, or for the different\nmanners in which it is possible to clap hands ceremonially.\n\nSo you can understand that it is not only a very rich tongue, but also\nan exceedingly troublesome one to learn accurately; and as very slight\nmistakes are apt to convey to native ears very different ideas to\nthose we wish to convey, you can understand that I prefer being very\ntroublesome to my most patient companions, rather than plunge headlong\ninto such difficulties.\n\nOf course both Mr and Mrs Langham talk it to perfection, for they have\nlived entirely with the people for seventeen years, and know every detail\nabout all the native tribes and their chiefs, and their quarrels, and\ntheir domestic troubles. Mr Langham was for years going to and fro among\nthe cannibal tribes, when they were all at war, as mediator and teacher,\nurging them to make peace and to abstain from the horrible customs of\nheathenism, and accept the loving law of Christ. His way is smooth enough\nnow, but there was stiff work to do till very recent days; for he has\nseen Fiji in all its phases,\u2014all successive varieties of governments or\nanarchies. And he and his gentle little wife have lived in the midst of\nfightings and wars, in the days when the name of Fiji was synonymous with\ncannibalism and cruelties of the most horrible description.\n\nNow I am going out to explore some of the trails which lead to higher\nridges, that I may see the mountains in the interior, some of which\nrise to a height of 5000 or 6000 feet, but are hidden from us by nearer\nranges. It makes me laugh now to remember how, the first day I was\nwalking alone on the hills of Ovalau, I hid myself among the bushes from\na solitary Fijian, the savage of my imagination. Now, in far wilder\ncountry, I walk alone in perfect security wherever fancy leads me.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\n\n BATHING _AL FRESCO_\u2014THE UPPER REWA\u2014BARTER\u2014NATIVE HOUSES\u2014A\n FUNERAL\u2014WEDDINGS\u2014GRACE.\n\n\n NAKORO VATU (THE STONE TOWN), _December 19, 1875_.\n\nDEAREST JEAN,\u2014You will have heard from Eisa of our start from Rewa. Now\nwe are a long way up the river, and indulging in a sort of continuous\npicnic, which is full of interest to me, though very difficult to\ndescribe so as to convey to you any idea of its fascination to one\nactually living in it.\n\nThe stream, of course, narrowed rapidly as we ascended, and in doing\nso gained immensely in interest. Gradually we approached beautiful\nmountain-ranges, and whenever we landed and ascended even the smallest\nrising ground, we found ourselves encircled by a panorama of rare\nloveliness. But of course, so long as we were on the water-level\nour horizon was bounded by the river-banks, and after a while the\nmere loveliness of vegetation became almost monotonous, and we found\nourselves gliding unheeding past forests of tree-ferns and grand old\ntrees, festooned with a network of lianas, rich and rare, such as a few\ndays previously would have driven us into ecstasies of delight. Here\nand there, where some quiet pool in a rocky stream offered a tempting\nbathing-place, we called a halt, and therein revelled, while the boatmen\nwere boiling the kettle and preparing breakfast or lunch in some shady\nnook at a respectful distance. No words can describe to you how delicious\nare such impromptu bathes in clear sparkling streams, embowered in\nexquisite ferns, which meet overhead, throwing a cool shade on the water,\nand forming a lovely tracery, through which you get glimpses of the\nbluest sky. And the light that does reach you is mellowed, and the colour\nof the great fronds is like that tender green of beech-woods in early\nspring; and the water is so fresh and delightful that you would fain\nprolong your bathe all day.\n\nWe halted several days at Navounindrala, where the river branches off\ninto two heads, the Wai Nimala and the Wai Nimbooco, both too shallow at\nthis season to admit of the large boat going any further; so, leaving it\nat the junction, we transferred our three selves to one very large canoe,\nwhile two ordinary ones carried our necessary goods. Thenceforward we\npaddled and poled by turns, as occasion demanded; and when any difficulty\narose in ascending rapids, we invariably found ready helpers willing to\nlend us their aid.\n\nWe first proceeded up the Wai Nimbooco, sleeping at various villages,\nin which no white women had previously set foot; nor, indeed, any white\nteacher, for it is only a year since these people were cannibal and\nheathen. The first native teachers sent to them died in the measles, and\nthose now sent to replace them are men from the Windward Isles, half\nTongan, and they find great difficulty in mastering the mountain dialect,\nwhich differs greatly from that of Bau and other coast districts. But the\npeople seem eager to make the very most of their small advantages, and\neverywhere we find flourishing schools and most devout congregations; and\nour party receives cordial welcome, the villagers crowding round to shake\nhands, foreign fashion. I certainly prefer this to having my hand sniffed\nimpressively!\n\nIn some villages the people brought very curious bowls, clubs, and\nspears for sale, and I have greatly enlarged my collection. Some of the\nwood-carving is so fine that it fills me with wonder, when I remember\nthat hitherto the only implements of these artists have been stone-axes,\nand rats\u2019 or sharks\u2019 teeth to do the finer work. Imagine the patience and\ncontrivance which every carved spear-head represents. I bought several\nvery tall carved walking-sticks, used by the old men, which I think some\nof you will like to adopt as alpenstocks, though you can never hope to\nlook as picturesque as the fine old men who brought them to me. They\ngenerally ask for large strong knives, or so many fathoms of very wide\nstrong white calico, in preference to money, and are very discriminating\nas to quality, having learnt by sad experience how worthless are the\ncheap Manchester fabrics sent to these isles for trade with natives\u2014mere\nwhitened shams, made up with dressing, and useless when washed.\n\nEach night we slept at a different native house, and became quite expert\nat rigging up our mosquito-curtains to the rafters, and constructing\nlittle rooms of matting, to give us each a corner to ourselves, always\nplanned so as, if possible, to include an open door, to secure fresh air,\nfor these people are as careful to exclude the night air as any old woman\nin Scotland.\n\nWhen our sleeping quarters are arranged, then comes the curious evening\nmeal, followed by family prayers, with reading and singing, at which\nare present a troop of villagers, who have previously assembled to see\nthe strange white people eat the food presented by themselves\u2014happily\nwith the addition of tea and sugar, and white bread, which Mrs Langham\n(notable housekeeper) succeeds in baking, on every possible occasion, in\na small portable oven.\n\nAll the houses, whether of chief or vassal, are alike built on a\nfoundation of stones several feet high. Thus the house is raised above\nthe damp ground. Sometimes you enter by steps, rudely hewn from one log;\nand a wooden bowl of water invites the visitor to wash his feet before\nentering. We invariably take off our boots to avoid dirtying the nice\nclean mats. Every house consists of only one room, varying, of course,\nin size; but the largest must be limited to the length of one piece of\ntimber, which is the ridge-pole, and with two other roughly hewn trees,\nlaid lengthwise, supports the frame-work of rafters, whereon rests the\nheavy thatched roof, the whole sustained by upright trees, notched at the\ntop, and all bound together with strongly knotted stems of some forest\nvine. The sides are supported, and doorways formed, by black pillars,\nabout ten feet in height, made of the stems of beautiful tree-ferns,\nwhich here grow in such abundance that they are commonly used for making\nfences, also for edging graves.\n\nIn building a large house about a hundred of these pillars are required.\nThose forming the doorway are frequently bound with _sinnet_ (which is\na kind of coarse string), black, brown, or yellow, interwoven so as to\nform most elaborate patterns, extremely artistic in effect. Sometimes in\nchurches, all the rafters are thus adorned, each being of a different\ndesign, telling of the patient care that has been lavished on their\ndecoration. Sometimes, too, they are ornamented with pure white shells\n(the _Cyprea ovula_), strings of which are also wreathed round the\nprojecting ends of the ridge-pole, and hang thence in long graceful\nfestoons.[22]\n\nThe walls, both of houses and churches, are generally formed of reeds,\nwith a thick outer coating of dried leaves. You can fancy how readily\nsuch buildings burn on the smallest provocation; the only marvel is why\nfires are not far more numerous, considering the extreme carelessness\nwith which the blazing bamboos, which act the part of candles, are\ncarried about; to say nothing of the fireplaces, of which there are\noccasionally several in one house, and which are merely hollows sunk in\nthe floor, with an edge of rough wood dividing them from the mats. One\nof these is generally in the centre of the house. Chimneys are unknown\nluxuries; so the smoke floats about at random, and settles in rich brown\nlayers on the rafters, and on the household goods that rest thereon,\nwhich sometimes include an old war-club of curious form, which probably\nhas made short work of many a foeman\u2019s skull, or a long black spear, with\nthree or four feet of most beautiful and intricate carving extending\nupward from the head.\n\nThere is generally a sort of scaffolding of rude posts and shelves above\nthe fire, which is used for cooking, and here, through the thick blue\nwood-smoke you perceive various cooking-pots and earthenware jars. Carved\nwooden bowls of various form and size hang round the walls: some with\ncuriously carved handles, of which you never see two alike, are used to\ncontain oil; others are used in the manufacture of the noxious national\ndrink called _yangona_ (elsewhere throughout the Pacific known as _kava_).\n\nThe large wooden bowls in which the yangona is prepared, and the small\ncocoa-nut shells in which it is served, both acquire a beautiful enamel,\nsometimes of a bluish colour, which is called the bloom, and gives great\nvalue to the bowl. A few wooden pillows\u2014merely a stick or bamboo on two\nshort legs\u2014complete the scanty household inventory. There is no more\nfurniture of any sort.\n\nAll round the fires lie the family and their friends on their mats,\nbeneath which is spread a thick layer of soft dry grass.\n\nWe always occupy what I may call the \u201ccompany bedroom;\u201d for though\nthe whole floor of the house is alike covered with mats, the best are\nreserved for the upper end, which is generally raised about a foot,\nforming a sort of dais for the use of the principal persons present, and\noften carpeted with a pile of fine mats. This is invariably given up to\nus, and here, as I told you, we hang up our mosquito-curtains, and with\nthe help of a few mats and plaids quickly rig up our simple tents.\n\nThe other end of the room is generally crowded all day. Happily most of\nthe natives clear out at night; but so long as the rare spectacle of\nthree white faces is to be seen we cannot wonder at the interest created,\none which, I am bound to say, is reciprocal. Many of our visitors walk\nfor miles across the mountains, bringing us presents of food; for,\nhowever poor they may be themselves, the customs of Fiji require that the\nutmost hospitality should be shown to strangers; and in the case of such\nhonoured guests as a missionary and his party, every care must be taken\nthat they, at least, shall find no lack of whatever the villages can\nsupply.\n\nAfter spending a week on the Wai Nimbooco we returned to the junction,\nand thence turned up the course of the other stream, the Wai Nimala, and\nat sunset reached this town. We were greatly tantalised by the charming\nposition of the teacher\u2019s house, on a somewhat isolated hill, commanding\na grand view; but, as a matter of policy, we had to stay at the chief\u2019s\nhouse, in the very middle of the village, and felt it close and stuffy,\nthough it is a large house, very well built. Eight large trees form the\nmain pillars, while upwards of one hundred fine tree-ferns have been\nsacrificed to make the small black pillars on either side. The walls are\nof double reeds, crossed; very beautiful patterns of fine sinnet-work\n(_i.e._, coloured string), on the lintels, and hanging curtains of long\ngrass. The chief himself is ill, lying before a blazing fire, which, with\na thermometer at about 80\u00b0, is scarcely our idea of comfort. The only\nthing he seemed to enjoy is an occasional bowl of very sweet tea, which\nMrs L. makes for him, and which is a very great luxury; though to us the\nlack of milk is a continual drawback. Sometimes we make cream by grating\ncocoa-nut and squeezing it through a cloth; but though delicious for very\noccasional use, it is so rich that we very quickly take a strong aversion\nto it, and prefer to do without. Occasionally we get an egg, which,\nbeaten up, is really an excellent substitute.\n\nA poor fellow in the house next to us was very ill all last night, and\ndied this morning. He was a stranger, with no one to mourn for him, so\nhe was rolled up in an old mat, with head and feet protruding, and thus\ncarried to his grave. On reaching the place, Mr Langham found it had been\ndug too short, so it had to be lengthened at the last moment. It is a\npretty burial-ground, the graves, as usual, edged with tree-fern wood. I\nhad a solitary walk up the hill, through tall reeds, up gullies shaded by\nrank plantains, all matted with lovely vines, and had a grand view from\nthe high ground. This village is clean and orderly.\n\nTo-day being Sunday there has been much church-going,\u2014very large and\nattentive congregations,\u2014apparently most devout. After morning service\nthere were no less than thirteen weddings! Some were new couples; others\nvery old folk, who wished to be legally wedded on the occasion of their\nbecoming Christian and _one-wived_. The superfluous wives are in large\ndemand by men who hitherto have failed to secure domestic bliss. We also\nhad several baptisms\u2014one was a big child, who was so much alarmed at the\nsight of the white teacher that he ran away howling.\n\nAt this moment I am surrounded by a crowd of brown women, who have crept\nup to me very shyly and cautiously, and are watching the progress of\nthis letter with great interest. Already some of them have begun to\nlearn writing, and many can read quite fluently. To-morrow there is to\nbe a great school examination. Supper is ready\u2014roast pig and _taro_;\nand all are hungry, but waiting for Mr L. to say grace,\u2014so I must go.\nGood-night.\u2014Your loving sister.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\n\n UPPER REWA\u2014SUNDAY AMONG THE CONVERTS\u2014SCHOOL EXAMINATIONS\u2014A\n \u201cMISSIONARY MEETING\u201d\u2014SAVAGE ORNAMENTS\u2014RED TAPE\u2014_M\u00c9K\u00c9S_\u2014EVENING\n PRAYER\u2014MARRIAGES.\n\n\n NIRUKURUKU, ON THE UPPER REWA RIVER, _December 23d_.\n\nMY DEAR ALEXA,\u2014I have not written to you since I started on this trip,\nbut of course you have heard all my news from the others. We came here\nyesterday in the canoe, as the rapids are so strong that the boat could\nnot face them, and the men, strong as they are, had to call others to\ntheir aid, and even then had hard work to pull us up stream. But the\nscenery is most lovely, though we rarely leave the water-level, and the\nglimpses we do get of the grand mountains make us long to penetrate right\nup to them. But this would involve far too much walking for either Mrs\nLangham or myself, and there is no other means of locomotion. Oh, what\nI would give to have my dear Himalayan _dandie_ here, with a team of\nstrong Paharis (hill-men) to carry me! The Highlanders here (the Kai\nColos, men of the mountains) are just as strong, but the idea of carrying\na lady has not yet occurred to them; indeed we are the first specimens of\nthe race whom they have seen!\n\nThis is the furthest point to which we can go, and here we are to spend\nChristmas, as Mr Langham is anxious to hold service himself on that day,\nand the people will assemble from far and near.\n\nI think it might well startle some of our sleepy congregations to find\nthemselves in a Fijian church (of which there are 900 in these isles, for\nevery village which becomes Christian begins by building a church and a\nteacher\u2019s house, and undertakes to feed and clothe the latter, besides\ngiving him small payment in kind for individual schooling).\n\nTo say nothing of largely attended week-day evening services, there\nare on Sundays three regular services, beginning with a prayer-meeting\nat 6 A.M. Each of these is crowded, and a large number also attend\nSunday-school in the afternoon; and many prove how attentively they have\nlistened to the teacher by repeating on Monday the whole substance of the\nsermons preached the previous day.\n\nThe form of service is much the same as in a Presbyterian church, with\nthe addition of the Te Deum and Apostles\u2019 Creed, which are chanted in the\nnative fashion, the missionaries having wisely made use of native customs\nwhen practicable. The purely national tunes, if such I may call them,\nhave a certain attraction in their drone-like monotony; those borrowed\nfrom us are generally discordant, but certainly heartily rendered; and\nthe apparent earnestness in prayer of all present is most striking. Every\none, without exception, kneels on the matted floor (of course there are\nno seats), and lies doubled up, with head resting on the earth, touching\nthe bare feet of the kneeler in front of him. Here and there a tiny brown\nchild stands beside its mother, the only creature not prostrate. You can\nlook at this scene as long as you please, certain that no one will look\nup and catch you staring, for never a head is raised. So you overlook\na closely packed mosaic of tawny frizzled heads, bare brown backs, and\nwhite _sulus_ (kilts).\n\nNor is there the slightest reason for thinking that this is merely\nan outward show of devotion. Everything in daily life tends to prove\nits reality. The first sound that greets your ear in the morning, and\nthe last at night, is the sound of family worship in every house in\nthe village. I am positively assured that the presence of the white\nmissionary makes no appreciable difference in the congregations, and\nthat the churches are just as crowded when there is only the native\nteacher to lead the simple worship.\n\nOne thing which strikes us forcibly in all our dealings with these people\nis their exceeding honesty. Day after day our goods are exposed in the\nfreest manner, more especially on Sundays, when for several hours not a\ncreature remains in the house where we happen to be staying, which is\nleft with every door wide open, and all our things lying about. Boxes\nand bags which are known to contain knives and cloth and all manner\nof tempting treasures, stand unlocked, and yet, though the village is\ninvariably within a stone\u2019s-throw, we have never lost the value of a\npin\u2019s head. I confess, however, it was some time before I could stifle\nall qualms of misgiving on seeing a crowd of what some people might call\nsavages swoop down on our property and carry it off piecemeal to the\nboat or village, as the case might be; but when day after day passed and\nnothing was ever missing, I gradually acquired the implicit trust which\nhas proved so well founded.\n\nPoor as these people are, their generosity is most remarkable, and they\ngive freely of such things as they have, both to those among themselves\nwho may be in need, and also for the spread of the Christian cause.\nNot only does each village support its own teacher, but considerable\nofferings for a general fund are made at the annual school examinations\nand \u201cmissionary meetings.\u201d Nothing could be more distressing than to have\nnothing to give on such a day, so those who have no money will walk miles\nacross the hills, bringing some treasured bowl or spear for sale; and\ngreat is the anxiety to receive payment in numerous small coins, that no\nmember of the family may appear empty-handed on the great feast-day. Very\noften, however, it is to obtain a copy of the precious Fijian Testament\nthat the household treasure is thus offered for sale; for already an\nimmense number can read, and are as well instructed in Bible history and\nprecepts as any Scotch peasant of the good old school.\n\nWhat a very tame scene a school examination at home will seem after those\nwe have here witnessed, with the multitude of brown scholars, all so very\nattentive! Certainly we have no cause to complain of over-dressing or use\nof artificial flowers; but the usual wreaths of green, lilac, or yellow\nleaves, hanging in long fringes from waist and shoulders, figure largely,\nalso those made of long narrow leaves of the screw-pine, gaily dyed red\nand yellow.\n\nAt one place we found the scholars, old and young, of eight villages\nassembled to receive us. They began, as usual, by coming up in\nprocession, and each depositing an offering at the feet of the\nmissionary. This generally consists of one root of yam or _taro_, a\nbunch of tobacco-leaves, a sugar-cane, or a yangona root; but on this\noccasion some discriminating scholars brought old war-clubs and bowls, to\nsay nothing of a pile of the fringe dresses aforesaid! Then followed a\n_m\u00e9k\u00e9_, which is a quaint national dance with accompaniment of singing.\n\nSome of the old _m\u00e9k\u00e9s_ are not considered desirable, as, for example,\nthat dance of death which accompanied the carrying of dead bodies to\nthe temple, preparatory to cooking them, and others of heathen or\nimmoral association. The schools are therefore encouraged to select new\nsubjects. So they gave us a dance and pantomime all about the capture\nof Jerusalem, and very curious it was. Then they went through very\ncreditable Scriptural examination and recitation, with some reading and\nwriting, and finished off with a most extraordinary method of spelling\nand doing mental arithmetic. I cannot attempt to describe it, further\nthan to say that though all the scholars as usual sat on the ground, the\nwhole body was in perpetual motion, swaying from side to side, each row\nin opposite directions. There was incessant clapping of hands, now on one\nside, now on the other, now on the ground, now in mid-air, and all in\nmeasured time; while the calculations were shouted aloud, and apparently\nproduced a correct result. The action gone through for the spelling and\narithmetic lesson was quite different, though wholly indescribable. In\nall these movements the most accurate time is marked. In some schools\ngeography is also taught, the lesson being a series of chanted questions\nand answers, which, however musical, can scarcely be expected to convey\nmuch meaning to the mind of the Fijian, who assuredly believes his own\nisles to be the greatest and most important in the world. At the close\nof the proceedings, each scholar approached in turn, and stripping off\nhis or her green wreaths, laid them in a heap at our feet, whence they\nwere removed by the boatmen for their own adornment. Such is a school\nexamination in Fiji.\n\nAs for the missionary meetings, they by no means resemble those held in\nExeter Hall! They are simply great days of native merry-making, when the\nmissionaries very wisely encourage the people to keep up the most popular\nand innocent of their national games and dances, and when all who attend\nbring offerings according to their ability and inclination.\n\nThe first meeting of this sort at which I was present was held at the\njunction of two heads of the great Rewa river, the Wai Nimbooco and the\nWai Nimala. On the first day, the people of seventeen towns (or villages)\nassembled, and the crowd must have numbered fully 2000. On the following\nday about ten more towns arrived, and, with slight variations, the\nprogramme was repeated. We sat under trees on the river-bank, facing the\nvillage green, and each town came up in turn in procession, all quaintly\ndressed up as if for a fancy ball, and marched slowly past us, every one\ncarrying his offering in his mouth for greater security\u2014a purse at once\nnovel and self-acting; for, as both hands were often busy with spear and\nfan, it was a saving of trouble, and by no means disrespectful, just to\nspit out the coin on the mat spread to receive offerings. Some had quite\na mouthful to give\u2014three or four shillings. The latter was a sum much\naimed at, as the donors of such large contributions had the pride of\nknowing that their names would appear in a printed list! an honour not\nwholly without attraction even in Fiji.\n\nThe town then divided into two companies. One acted as orchestra, sitting\non the ground,\u2014some clapping hands, sometimes with the palms flat,\nsometimes hollowed, to produce diversity of tone\u2014some striking the ground\nwith short, resonant bamboos, held vertically, which produce a strange\nbooming sound\u2014all singing old words, the meaning of which they have in\nmany cases forgotten. The chant is invariably commenced by one voice, and\nthe chorus takes it up after a few notes. The other company danced,\u2014the\nquaintest, wildest dances you can conceive, with much pantomime and most\ngraceful action. Every action and posture one sees in a good ballet are\nfound here; and such pretty grouping with fans, spears, or clubs. Many\nof the figures are very intricate, and the rapidity of movement and\nflexibility of the whole body are something marvellous,\u2014 it seems as if\nevery muscle was in action, and all the postures are graceful. The dance\ngets wilder and more excited as it goes on, generally ending with an\nunearthly yell, in which all the spectators join.\n\nThey are all sitting round in every available corner, generally spreading\na bit of plantain-leaf on the ground to keep their dress clean: for, of\ncourse, every one is attired in his very best\u2014perhaps a kilt of English\nlong-cloth (or, far more attractive in our eyes, native cloth of rich\nbrown pattern). White native cloth is worn as a girdle, and hangs behind\nin large folds; wreaths of long hanging grass are worn round the arms and\nlegs, as well as on the body. Some even powder their hair black, or else\nwear huge wigs of heathen days, and crowns of scarlet parrots\u2019 feathers.\n\nMost have their faces painted with every variety of colour, in stripes,\ncircles, and spots. Some are all scarlet, with black spectacles, or _vice\nvers\u00e2_; some, of a very gaudy turn of mind, half blue and half scarlet.\nSome are painted half plain and half spotted, or striped like clowns. In\nshort, fancy has free scope in devising grotesque patterns of every sort.\nMany are entirely blackened down to the waist, or perhaps have one side\nof the face and one shoulder dyed dark-red; but the commonest and ugliest\nfreak of all is to paint only the nose bright scarlet, and the rest of\nthe face dead black, and very hideous is the result.\n\nThe paint-box on these occasions is simple: red ochre supplies one shade,\nand the seeds of the vermilion-tree, so dull in the pod, but so brilliant\nwhen crushed, supply another. The nearest wood-fire yields black in\nabundance; while a dark-brown fungus is found on the bark of certain\ntrees, and finds immense favour with many who cannot understand how\ninfinitely more beautiful is the rich brown of their own silky skin, with\nits gloss of cocoa-nut oil. The gaudy blue is a recent addition to their\nstock\u2014from English laundries; and an unusually vivid scarlet likewise\ntells occasionally of dealings with British traders.[23]\n\nOn great festivals the family jewels are all displayed. They consist of\nnecklaces of whales\u2019 teeth rudely fastened together with sinnet, or else\nmost carefully cut into long curved strips like miniature tusks, highly\npolished, and strung together in the form of a great collar, which is\nworn with the curved points turning outwards like a frill. The average\nlength of each tooth is about six inches; but some necklaces, which are\ntreasured as heirlooms, are nearly double this size, and all the teeth\nare beautifully regular. Their effect when worn by a chief in full dress\nis singularly picturesque, though scarcely so becoming as the large\ncurved boar\u2019s tooth, which sometimes forms an almost double circle, and\nis worn suspended from the neck, the white ivory gleaming against the\nrich brown skin.\n\nThe most artistic and uncommon ornament of a Fijian chief is a\nbreast-plate from six to ten inches in diameter, made of polished whale\u2019s\ntooth, sliced and inlaid with pearly shell, all most beautifully joined\ntogether. These, like all native work, whether wood-carving or ivory, not\nonly claim admiration, but fill me with wonder at the patient ingenuity\nwhich could possibly produce such results with the tools hitherto\npossessed by these people, to whom metals were unknown, whose axes\nand hatchets were made of smooth and beautifully polished green-stone\n(precisely similar to the celts of our forefathers, and how they made\nthese is to me incomprehensible). I have bought several tied with coarse\nsinnet to a rude handle of wood cut in the form of a bent knee. When the\nstone axe had accomplished the first rough shaping of the form required,\na skilfully used fire-stick next came into use, and then a lump of\nmushroom coral, or a piece of the rough skin of the sting-ray, stretched\non wood, acted as a rasp or file. A fine polish was attained by patient\nfriction with pumice-stone and cocoa-nut oil. The only other tools of the\nFijian workman consisted of broken shells, the teeth of rats and fishes,\nor the sharp spines of the echini, set in hard wood. Yet with these rude\nimplements these untutored savages (if so we should call them) produced\nforms so artistic, and carving so elaborate and graceful, as must excite\nthe keen admiration of all lovers of art.\n\nBut alas for the vulgarising influence of contact with white men! Already\nthe majority of the islanders have sold their own admirable ornaments,\nand wear instead trashy English necklaces, with perhaps a circular tin\nlooking-glass attached, or an old cotton-reel in the ear instead of a\nrudely carved ear-ring. In the more frequented districts this lamentable\nchange thrusts itself more forcibly on the attention, as almost all\nthe fine old clubs and beautifully carved spears have been bought up,\nand miserable sticks and nondescript articles\u2014including old European\nbattle-axes\u2014take their place.\n\nHere in the mountains each company carried spears, clubs, or fans, all of\nwhich played their part in the various dances\u2014most of which are so old,\nthat the meaning of the songs and pantomime are alike forgotten by the\nactors. In one long piece of by-play all the men of the village appeared\ndressed alike, their heads being plastered with lime, looking just like\npowdered footmen (only that they were brown and naked to the waist).\nIt was so very solemn that we thought some terrible tragedy was being\nrecounted; but we were told it was only a story about an empty basket!\n\nIn one very odd dance, a queer, fluttering creature, with a huge fan in\neach hand to represent wings, kept dancing round and round a covey of\ncowering children, whom he bowled over, two at a time. Then, as they lay\nprone, he fanned them to life again, and so drove them along to join the\norchestra. This is supposed to be a bird of prey providing for her young,\nand of a species unknown in Fiji!\n\nSomewhat similar is a dance in which half the men are armed with spears,\nthe other half carry large fans of palm-leaf, or of native cloth\nstretched on a wooden frame, and adorned with blue and white streamers.\nAt the end of each movement every dancer holds his fan high above his\nhead with simultaneous action, uttering a wild, high-pitched war-cry.\nAfter an intricate dance, in which extraordinary feats of agility are\ndisplayed, these two companies form into separate lines and have a sham\nfight. Again and again the whole regiment of spearmen fall flat on the\nground, as if all slain simultaneously, and the others, bending over\nthem, fan them assiduously till life is restored, and they once more\nspring to their feet. This is a particularly pretty dance: no carefully\nstudied ballet could be more effective.\n\nAnother, which is particularly characteristic, is a club-dance, in\nwhich half the men present are armed with war-clubs of very varied and\ncurious forms, while the others carry long and beautifully carved spears.\nSometimes each man carries a spear in one hand and a club in the other;\nand often, I regret to say, a number of common muskets replace the old\nclubs, and look strangely out of keeping with the barbaric surroundings.\nOn festivals such as these, many of the clubs are as carefully decorated\nas their owners. Coloured strips of _pandanus_ leaf or fibre-plaiting\nare wound around them, adorned with fringe-like tufts; some are rather\ncoarsely touched up with scarlet or blue paint, which happily soon rubs\noff. These war-parties always advance slowly, attitudinising and swinging\nfrom side to side. Gradually they become more animated, brandish their\nspears and clubs, go through all manner of evolutions, keeping such\nperfect time that each line of warriors seems to move like one man\u2014every\nhand and foot moving in unison. The speed and action go on increasing\ntill each individual dancer seems to be performing the closing movements\nof a Highland fling or a sailor\u2019s hornpipe, but with far more varied\npostures. At some of the larger gatherings, from two to three hundred\ndancers will join in the _m\u00e9k\u00e9_, and as they are generally the picked men\nof the district, the scene is the more effective. In every dance there is\na leader, who by word and example regulates the time for every change in\nthe figures. This post of honour is often awarded to a very small boy,\nson of the chief; and you cannot think how pretty it is to see all these\nsplendid fellows moving like clock-work in obedience to the slightest\naction of a tiny child, most quaintly dressed, and entering keenly into\nhis duties. He begins in the most dramatic manner by delivering a shrill\nexhortation to his _corps de ballet_, and then leads them with perfect\naccuracy through every man\u0153uvre of advance, retreat, &c., &c.\n\nEach district has certain dances peculiar to itself, and the people of\none neither can nor will join in the _m\u00e9k\u00e9_ of another. Thus the people\nof aristocratic Bau positively sneered when asked whether they could not\nperform some of the dances of their neighbours at Rewa, which monopolises\nthe most graceful _m\u00e9k\u00e9_ of all\u2014namely, one which represents the breaking\nof the waves on a coral-reef\u2014a poetic idea admirably rendered. Years ago\nI remember the delight with which we hailed an exquisite statuette in Sir\nNoel Paton\u2019s studio, representing the curling of a wave, by a beautiful\nfemale figure, supposed to be floating thereon; but I never dreamt that\nwe should find the same idea so perfectly carried out by a race whom we\nhave been wont to think of only as ruthless savages.\n\nThe idea to be conveyed is that of the tide gradually rising on the\nreef, till at length there remains only a little coral isle, round\nwhich the angry breakers rage, flinging their white foam on every\nside. At first the dancers form in long lines and approach silently,\nto represent the quiet advance of the waves. After a while the lines\nbreak up into smaller companies, which advance with outspread hands and\nbodies bent forward, to represent rippling wavelets, the tiniest waves\nbeing represented by children. Quicker and quicker they come on, now\nadvancing, now retreating, yet, like true waves, steadily progressing,\nand gradually closing on every side of the imaginary islet, round which\nthey play or battle, after the manner of breakers, springing high in\nmid-air, and flinging their arms far above their heads to represent the\naction of spray. As they leap and toss their heads, the soft white _masi_\nor native cloth (which for greater effect they wear as a turban with\nlong streamers, and also wind round the waist, thence it floats in long\nscarf-like ends) trembles and flutters in the breeze. The whole effect\nis most artistic, and the orchestra do their part by imitating the roar\nof the surf on the reef\u2014a sound which to them has been a never-ceasing\nlullaby from the hour of their birth.\n\nAnother _m\u00e9k\u00e9_ peculiar to this district represents a flock of\nflying-foxes in act of robbing a garden of ripe bananas. Perhaps a\ncouple of hundred foxes will assemble, to say nothing of a company of\nlittle foxes. A tree bearing the coveted fruit is fastened to a strong\npole in the centre of the ground\u2014and it says much for the native sense\nof humour that, instead of hanging up a bunch of real bananas, they\nmust needs devise an artificial bunch, with a square gin-bottle filled\nwith oil hanging from the tip, to represent the great purple blossom.\nIn the first figure of the dance scouts are sent out to see that the\ncoast is clear, and they flutter round the imaginary garden with\noutstretched arms, imitating the cry of the flying-fox. Soon the whole\nflock approach, chattering noisily over the prospects of the feast,\ncircling and fluttering round and round after the manner of all bats.\nThen one proceeds to climb the tree, and hangs himself up by the legs,\nhead downwards, with outstretched arms, flapping his wings and crying\njust like a flying-fox. A second soon follows, and disputes his position.\nThey squeal, and scratch, and bite one another, and a battle of the bats\nensues, in which the first-comer is routed. After a while some one shoots\nthe intruder, who falls helplessly from the tree. All this time the\nrest of the flock have been dancing and fluttering around, the peculiar\nmovements of bats being admirably rendered, even to the rushing sound of\nwings, which is given by a jerk of the body, which causes all the _liqus_\nto swing simultaneously; and these being made of dried leaves of the\n_pandanus_ or screw-pine, which are long and narrow as a grass, rustle\non the slightest movement, and their combined noise produces a rushing\nsound, greatly resembling that of the black-winged army.\n\nAs an illustration of a comic dance, I may mention a pantomime\nrepresenting a pig-hunt. He is supposed to be concealed in the long\ngrass, and the hunters, round whose necks hang large boars\u2019 tusks, very\nsuggestive of danger from such a hidden foe, advance cautiously in search\nof him. At last he is found, captured alive, and dragged in triumph to\nthe village, amid the acclamations of the spectators.[24]\n\nBut on this particular occasion the representations were chiefly of such\nreal warfare as that in which the dancers had so often been engaged,\u2014the\nstealthy advance of scouts\u2014the surprise, skirmish, and victory\u2014dancers\ngradually working themselves up to a pitch of wildest excitement, and\nbreaking forth into ear-piercing yells, in which the spectators did their\npart. This, and the painting and blackening of the warriors, produced\nan effect so truly diabolic, that it was hard to realise its being only\na game. The _m\u00e9k\u00e9_ had gone on for nearly seven hours, when darkness\nclosing in, compelled the remaining towns to reserve their dances, and\nthe presentation of their offerings, till the following morning.\n\nIt occurred to us that there might very likely be some torchlight dancing\nin the village, so after supper we strolled thither, but scarcely saw a\ncreature out of doors. But from within almost every house we passed came\nthe voice of most fervent family prayer, telling how the household and\ntheir guests were closing that day of much excitement.\n\nA man has just come up from Nakorovatu with the horrible news that a\nboy was killed there this morning by a shark, at the very spot where\nwe embarked yesterday. The brute caught him by the leg, tore off the\ncalf, and broke the bone. The shore was lined with spectators, but they\ncould not help, and by the time that some men contrived to drag away the\npoor fellow he was so terribly injured that he died almost immediately.\nSeveral of our men bathed there yesterday, and we also occasionally bathe\nin the river when we can find no pleasanter or more secluded stream. But\nthis really is most alarming, for we certainly thought ourselves safe\nfrom sharks at this distance from the sea\u2014fully thirty miles. Lower down\nthe river they are a fully recognised danger, and a man was recently\ncarried off while bathing at Nundiokar, one of the villages where we\nhalted, a few days ago.\n\nThere is a perfect crowd of interesting young couples just coming in\nto be married, so I must watch the proceedings. The brides appear shy,\nand the bridegrooms bashful. I am sorry to observe that some of the\nbrides are both ugly and old! They do not wear such quantities of pretty\nwhite and brown cloth as the brides on the coast; in fact, they wear\nexceedingly little of anything. Perhaps they were too poor to buy a\n_trousseau_. Anyhow, this is rather a dingy lot of weddings. Now good\nnight\u2014Your loving sister.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\n\n CHRISTMAS IN GREAT FIJI\u2014PIG FEASTS\u2014WEDDINGS\u2014FIJIAN\n NAMES\u2014CANNIBAL DAINTIES\u2014CHRISTMAS CHIMES\u2014SNEEZING\u2014\u201cOUR FATHER\u201d\n IN FIJIAN.\n\n\n (From a native Fijian house at Nirukuruku, a moated town on the\n banks of the Wai Nimala, one of the many heads of the great\n river Rewa, the richest land in Viti Levu\u2014_i.e._, Great Fiji.)\n\n \u201cAnd strangely fell our Christmas Eve.\u201d\n\n _Christmas Day, 1875._\n\nDEAR NELL,\u2014Do you remember the Christmas Eve at the Bridge of Allan, when\nwe first quoted that line to one another? when we had seen the last of\nthe dear old home, and the newly fallen snow lay on our father\u2019s grave,\nand we two looked down past that unfamiliar spire to the cold white world\nbeyond, and wondered what might lie before us in the untried future? I\nhave had some strange Christmases since then, but this is the strangest\nof all, as you would say could you only suddenly look in upon us....\n\nThough the people are so very friendly, and in many respects very nice,\nstill this is undoubted life among savages; and after a while there is\nconsiderable sameness in halting at one village after another, taking\nup our quarters in its best house, which invariably consists only of\none large room, the lower half of which is generally full of natives\nall day. Most of them clear out at night; but generally at least once\na-day\u2014sometimes twice in one day\u2014they bring us a feast, consisting\nof a pig roasted whole\u2014a sucking-pig, or an old one, as the case may\nbe\u2014wrapped up in large plantain-leaves, many baskets of cooked yams\nand _taros_, and native puddings tied up in leaves. Boiled vegetables\n(sometimes fish and crawfish) are brought in and offered again in the\nevening.\n\nBesides the regular feasts provided by each village, many of the\nmarriage-parties send in offerings of food, as the parson\u2019s share of\ntheir feast, so we are in no danger of starving. Yet the people really\nare very poor, and, except on such festal occasions as these, live only\non yams. But wherever we have halted\u2014and sometimes several times in the\ncourse of a day\u2014\u201ca feast\u201d has been brought for us,\u2014a procession of women\ncarrying baskets full of cooked vegetables, purple or white yams, _taro_,\nand sweet potatoes, fowls in cooking-pots, fish, crawfish, prawns, and\nnative puddings made of banana, and grated cocoa-nut sweetened with\nsugar-cane, and served in a large banana-leaf. At some places large\nfresh-water mussels, greatly resembling those of our Scotch rivers, have\nbeen supplied, and proved excellent. When served at table they resemble\npoached eggs, and when their thick white skin is cut open they yield a\ndelicacy suggestive rather of a French _cuisine_ than of a Fijian hut.\nWhere these abound they form an important article of food, as is shown\nby the piles of purple-lined shells which lie thickly strewn round the\nvillages, and which made me wonder whether the pearl-yielding mussel of\nour Scotch rivers might not be found equally useful as an addition to the\nlimited bill of fare of our own poor.\n\nBeef and mutton are luxuries which have only been introduced by white\nmen for their own use, and are probably not to be found anywhere save in\nLevuka, the capital of the isles. But pigs were imported at an earlier\nperiod, and quickly found such favour with the people that they now roam\nat large in every village, and a feast of roast pork is to a Fijian the\nvery crown of bliss.\n\nThe highest honour, therefore, that can be shown to any guest, is to\npresent him with a pig, sometimes full grown, sometimes an interesting\nsuckling, but in any case roasted whole, which is accomplished by filling\nhim with red-hot stones, and baking him in a hole in the ground, lined\nwith more hot stones and green leaves. Wrapped in this leafy covering,\nhe is next placed on a carved wooden tray, and borne triumphantly to the\nhouse where the stranger is lodging, and there deposited, with all the\nother good things aforesaid, on the mats near the furthest door, which\nnaturally suffer a good deal in consequence.\n\nThe feast is then formally presented, and as formally accepted, with\nset speeches and measured hand-clapping. The pig is then cut up, and\nthe feast duly apportioned among all present, this distribution being\nalso made strictly according to rule; for in Fiji rigid etiquette rules\nevery action of life, and the most trifling mistake in such matters would\ncause as great dissatisfaction as a breach in the order of precedence\nat a European ceremonial. To apportion the pig\u2019s head to any save the\nprincipal person present would inevitably result in that person leaving\nthe house in high dudgeon; and as chiefs of various villages may have\narrived simultaneously to visit the new-comer, it is sometimes an\nembarrassing question how to satisfy the dignity of all. Happily in\nour case the feasts are generally divided by Johnny, the head boatman,\nwho, being himself a chief of this district, is well informed on all\nsuch matters. We are amusingly reminded of his nobility by hearing the\nclapping of hands, with which an admiring circle invariably proclaim the\nclose of his meals.\n\nTo-day, in honour of Christmas, this oft-recurring pig festival has been\nthrice repeated, and you can fancy how saturated with grease are the\nunfortunate mats near the door! I have induced the owner of the wooden\ntray which did duty both on this day and on Christmas Eve, to sell it to\nme, and shall take it away as an interesting memorial of the strangest\nChristmas dinner which has yet fallen to my share.\n\nWe had also a novel Christmas Eve, marked not by the bringing in of a\ncheery Yule log, but by multitudinous marriages; for one result of the\nmurrain of measles which desolated the isles a few months ago is that\na matrimonial fever has set in. The widows and widowers, instructed by\ntheir chiefs, have interpreted some expressions of the great white chief\nas a recommendation to seek mutual consolation, and the infection spreads\namong all classes of the community, old and young. So it happened that\non reaching this place, Nirukuruku, three days ago, we found no less\nthan forty couples, belonging to this and the neighbouring villages, all\nwaiting to be married on the arrival of the missionary, preferring his\ngood offices to those of Aquilla, the native minister, just as a damsel\nnearer home might deem the knot more satisfactorily tied by her bishop\nthan by the village curate. I cannot say, however, that these weddings\ngained much in pomp of ceremonial by the arrival of the great man; for,\nknowing the amount of inquiry involved by each marriage, and how very\nslow a process this might prove, it was deemed necessary to begin at\nonce, so as to dispose of as many as possible without loss of time.\n\nAll belonging to the village were therefore invited to present themselves\nas soon as possible; so, just as we had finished supper (sitting on our\nmats, and by the light of one dim candle, in a lantern) all the couples\narrived. Being dark, and the call so sudden, few of the women had thought\nit necessary to put on the short low-bodied article which acts the part\nof jacket, but were dressed just like the men, with only a short white\nkilt (_sulu_ they call it); and very difficult it was, in the dim light,\nto tell which were which, and to get them rightly paired, and arranged\nalong one side of the room; for, as a matter of course, the bashful\ncouple arrive and depart separately, and would rather place themselves\nbeside any one in the room than their own intended! Altogether, it was a\nvery curious scene.\n\nNear us sat the native minister\u2019s wife and family, diligently sewing\nChristmas raiment, by the light of a wick and oil in an old sardine-box,\nwith the coaxiest of large-eyed brown babies looking on admiringly.\nBeyond, a group of brown boatmen lay round the fire, which, as usual,\nblazed in a sunken corner of the floor\u2014no chimney of course. Some houses\nhave several such fireplaces, merely enclosed by logs of cocoa-palm; and\nit certainly is a marvel that fires are not more frequent, especially as\nthe candles, which are only bits of blazing bamboo, are carried about in\nthe most careless way over the mats; and these are laid over a deep layer\nof soft dry grass.\n\nWhen inquiry as to statistics began, it was found that a considerable\nnumber of the couples were old hands\u2014that is to say, they were recent\nconverts, who, having renounced polygamy, were about to settle down in\nsober double harness, instead of the four-in-hand (at the very least) of\nprevious matrimonial arrangements. The age and extreme ugliness of some\nof these brides suggested great constancy in their lords, and greater\nattractions in the ladies than mere personal beauty. The discarded wives\ninvariably seem in great demand, as under the old system of polygamy a\nlarge proportion of the men were doomed to involuntary celibacy; the\nemancipated women have therefore no difficulty in selecting new homes,\nwherein they may hold undivided sway\u2014an honour which may perhaps scarcely\nprove a source of unmingled satisfaction, considering the amount of hard\nwork which falls to the lot of a Fijian wife, in fishing, and other\nnecessary labour, which the lords of creation prefer generally to do by\ndeputy, though he is accounted a sorry idler who sends his wife to dig in\nthe distant yam-garden. The position of women in these isles has hitherto\nbeen as low, and their lot as hard, as in most other uncivilised lands;\nbut Christian teachers are now doing their utmost to raise them in the\nsocial scale, and with considerable success\u2014their bright intelligent\nfaces telling, in many instances, how readily they will do their own\nshare in improving their condition when once such a possibility has\ndawned on their minds.\n\nSome of the brides and bridegrooms retained their old original names,\nwhich, literally translated, are characteristic; those of the women\nbeing such as Spray of the Coral-reef, Queen of Parrot\u2019s Land, Queen of\nStrangers, Smooth Water, Wife of the Morning Star, Paradise, Mother of\nher Grandchildren, Ten Whale\u2019s Teeth (_i.e._, very precious).\n\nSome were cruelly ill named from their birth. To any one who has\nsuffered from the sting of a Fijian nettle such a name as Lady Nettle\nseems rather a cruel one to bestow on a little innocent. Nor can\nWaning Moon, Drinker of Blood, or Mother of Cockroaches be considered\nflattering, though Mother of Pigeons sounds more kindly. Earthen Vessel\nis more complimentary than might at first sight appear, when we consider\nthe preciousness of the water therein stored; while Waited for, Smooth\nWater, Sacred Cavern, One who Quiets, are all more or less pleasant.\n\nThe men\u2019s names are equally fanciful. Such are The Stone God, Great\nShark, Bad Earth, Bad Stranger, New Child, More Dead Man\u2019s Flesh, Abode\nof Treachery, Not Quite Cooked, Die out of Doors, Empty, Fire in the\nBush, Spark of Fire, Day, Night, The Great Fowl, Quick as Lightning,\nLaggard, Imp, Eats like a God, King of Gluttony, Ill Cooked, Dead Man,\nRevenge, Carpenter,\u2014and so _ad infinitum_.\n\nWhere Christian names have been adopted at baptism they are almost\ninvariably Scriptural names Fijianised, I had almost said Italianised.\nSuch are _Taivita_ for David, Lydiana or Litia for Lydia, Mirama for\nMiriam, Nabooco for Nebuchadnezzar, Setavenie for Stephen, Zacheusa,\nBartolomeo, Luki, Joeli, Amosi, Clementi, Solomoni, Jacopi, Josephi,\nIsaia, and Epeli, the latter representing Abel. In short, in any\nlarge assemblage you could scarcely fail to find namesakes of all the\npatriarchs, prophets, and apostles, with their mothers and wives,\nthe Scriptures having been ransacked from beginning to end to afford\nsufficient variety. Some few modern names are heard, such as Alisi and\nArietta, and occasionally the surname of some revered white man has been\nadopted, the prefix of Mr being especially insisted on!\n\nThe preliminary inquiries respecting the happy couples, and the\ndifficulty of ascertaining whether parents and guardians had, in some\ncases, given the necessary consent, took up so much time, that at last,\nwearied with the day\u2019s journey, I could stand it no longer, but crept\ninside my tent (the old green plaid which has been the faithful companion\nof so many wanderings), and fell asleep to the sound of the old story,\n\u201cTill death us do part,\u201d oft repeated in Fijian tongue.\n\nThe giving of a ring forms no part of the wedding service\u2014indeed in this\nland of few personal ornaments even a tortoise-shell ring is a rare\ntreasure. Plain circles cut out of pearly shell form bracelets for men,\nand equally common is a circle cut from a cocoa-nut and polished. The men\nalso have a monopoly of the necklaces made of large whale\u2019s teeth, and\nhandsome breast-plates of pearl-shell and ivory, beautifully inlaid and\npolished; also of the large curly boar\u2019s tusks, which form so becoming a\nneck-ornament.\n\nThe feminine jewel-case is far more limited. It probably consists of one\npink shell, tied on with a plait of sinnet, and English beads (only very\ntiny beads, which can be plaited into the finest patterns, find favour\nhere). Sometimes a piece of carved whale\u2019s tooth is worn as an ear-ring,\nor a string of dog\u2019s teeth as a necklace,\u2014and this pretty nearly exhausts\nthe catalogue.\n\nNor was the amount of raiment worn in heathen days oppressive. A thick\nfringe of coloured grass, or hybiscus fibre, from three to four inches in\nlength, was the full dress of a young lady in the mountains,\u2014indeed is\nso to this day among the tribes who have not yet adopted Christianity,\nor who, since the scourge of measles, have returned to heathenism. Most\nChristians, men and women alike, now wear a cloth reaching from the waist\nto the knee, and over this such decoration as fancy prompts\u2014whether gay\nfringe of coloured grass, delicate creeping ferns, or bright golden\ncroton-leaves, cunningly fastened so as to overlap one another, and form\na close short petticoat,\u2014and a very becoming dress it is, especially when\nworn by a group of pretty girls, perhaps standing beneath the shadow of\na plantain-tree, or holding one of its broad leaves above their heads,\nto shield them from the burning rays of the sun, the rich tones of their\nbrown figures standing out in strong relief against the vivid blue of the\nsky.\n\nHow long the wedding ceremonials were protracted I cannot say, but when\nI awoke the following morning I learnt that nineteen more couples were\nwaiting their turn; and again the slow process of inquiries had to be\ngone through, which occupied three hours. At eleven we started in the\ncanoe, and floated down the river to Nivotheene, a very pretty moated\nvillage, tastefully laid out, with neat paths. It is a new village built\non an old site, the young chief and his people of the Nathau tribe having\nreturned to heathenism during the wars, when their old town was burnt by\nThakombau\u2019s people, since which time they have lived twelve miles farther\nup the river for security. Now they have again embraced the _lotu_, and\ncome down from the mountains. But the tribe with whom we are now staying\n(at Nirukuruku) were formerly their bitter foes, and the under-current of\ndistrust is still strong; and from various indications, both Mr and Mrs\nLangham feel so far suspicious of possible danger that they have yielded\nto the strongly urged advice of the native minister, and have decided\nto give up our visit to the inland town, as being unsafe. It would be\nfoolish to get clubbed in a savage fray. It was at no great distance\nfrom this place that the Rev. Thomas Baker and seven Christian natives\nwere treacherously murdered by the heathen tribe of Na-vosa in the year\n1867 (only eight years ago). They were all eaten. It is worthy of note\nthat at least half-a-dozen different villages have pretended to be in\npossession of Mr Baker\u2019s head\u2014a case of multiplication of relics worthy\nof medieval days. The moat and ditch which enclose Nivotheene and so\nmany other villages tell of the state of terrible insecurity of life and\nproperty in which these tribes have hitherto lived, but which, we would\nfain hope, has now become a story of the past.\n\nWe lunched under a group of lovely trees, veiled with long trails of\ncreepers, falling some thirty feet in wreaths of tender green, through\nwhich we looked down on the clear beautiful river, and to the mountains\nbeyond. Afterwards we adjourned to the house of the young chief, and made\nfriends with his pretty wife, whose bright intelligent smile almost made\nus forget the hideous fact that lines and curves of dark blue tattooing\ndid their utmost to destroy the beauty of her mouth. In some districts\nthis disfiguring honour is the portion of every married woman; in others\nit is reserved for mothers. There is also some tattooing of the body; but\nthis, even in heathen undress, is invariably covered by the short _liku_,\nthe four-inch deep fringe\u2014and of course Christian usage discourages such\npainful adornment, which in the Fijian group has been always considered\nexclusively feminine. In the Tongan group, on the contrary, only the men\nindulge in it.\n\nAs soon as our arrival became known, the villagers crowded in to inspect\nus, and to exchange sundry necklaces of whales\u2019 teeth and carved wooden\nbowls for fathoms of cloth and much-coveted big knives. I bought from the\nvillanous-looking old priest a couple of large wooden spoons, or scoops,\nmade purposely for human broth; and we also got sundry cannibal forks,\nof carved wood, with four long prongs, which were used exclusively for\nhuman flesh, this being the only meat which might not be touched with the\nfingers, because it was supposed to produce a skin disease.\n\nWishing to ascertain the truth of an assertion sometimes made, to the\neffect that women were not allowed to share in these cannibal feasts,\nwe asked the young chief whether it was so. He denied it emphatically,\nadding, \u201cI\u2019d like to see the woman who would not eat her full share!\u201d We\nthen asked whether the manner of preparing human flesh was not different\nfrom that in which pork, for instance, was cooked. He misunderstood the\nquestion, and answered, \u201cOh! there\u2019s no comparison between them\u2014human\nflesh is so much the best!\u201d Doubtless he has had good experience, having\nfrom his childhood been engaged in tribal wars, which afforded a rarely\nfailing supply of dead foes. On every side of us fierce battles have been\nfought; and on a hill at the head of the valley stands Balavu, \u201cthe long\ntown,\u201d which, in 1871, was surprised by neighbouring tribes, who therein\n_slew and ate_ 260 persons! When they had finished eating them all they\nproceeded to eat the pigs!\n\nNo less than three of our boatmen have lost their parents in these wars,\nand pointed out to us the spots where they had respectively been clubbed;\none also pointed out the grave beside which (only two or three years ago)\nhe had watched for ten nights and days, to be sure that his father\u2019s body\nwas not dug up and eaten. Even then it was scarcely secure, as bodies\nhave been dug up after twelve days, at which stage (in the tropics!),\nas they could not be lifted whole, they were made into puddings! One\nfavourite phase of cold-blooded revenge and insult was to collect the\nbones of bodies thus eaten and reduce them to powder. Then, when peace\nwas restored, and the tribes next feasted together, this nice ingredient\nwas added to some favourite pudding. Afterwards, should war again\nbreak out, it was the height of triumph to taunt the late guests with\nhaving eaten the dishonoured bones of their kindred. Yet the people who\ncould plan and execute such deeds as these were so punctilious in some\nrespects that it would have been considered the grossest breach of Fijian\netiquette to take an enemy unawares: even in the case of a besieged town,\nformal notice must be sent to the foe that an assault was about to be\nmade; it might then be delayed for many days, but the intimation must be\nsent, that the foe might be on their guard. Nevertheless tales of gross\ntreachery prove that this chivalrous law was not always carried out.\n\nAnother hideous act of revenge\u2014one among many\u2014was perpetrated near this\nspot. A chief had one daughter, of rare beauty, whom he loved dearly. The\nfoes who could not conquer him in battle contrived to waylay her, as she\ncame down to the river to fish. They carried her back to their village in\nthe mountains, and there made a great feast of her dainty flesh, giving\npart of it to the pigs, as the grossest insult they could invent. Then\nher bones were scattered before the doors of the houses, that all comers\nmight constantly walk over them and spit upon them.\n\nIs it not hard to realise that such deeds as these can so recently have\nbeen committed by the gentle friendly people among whom we now travel so\nsafely, and whose child-like earnestness and devotion to the new religion\nof peace and love is so striking?\n\nNothing is to me more difficult than to reconcile this mixture of\nutter heartlessness and indifference to the anguish of others, with\nthe high-bred refined courtesy which seems so perfectly natural, not\nonly to the chiefs, but to all these people. I can only account for it\nby considering how many British children have delighted in pulling off\nflies\u2019 legs and wings, who, nevertheless, when they attained years of\ndiscretion, have turned out excellent members of the Humane Society. But\nthen these people have always hitherto possessed both characteristics\nsimultaneously, and it is only since they have become Christian that they\nhave ceased to be cruel.\n\nHorrible as these stories are, they are mere trifles compared with many\nwhich are known to be facts, but which are utterly tales of the past\nwherever the _lotu_ has spread. I am sure that in all England you have\nhad no congregation more devout than that which assembled here at dawn\nthis morning.\n\nWe returned from Nivotheene late yesterday evening in a drizzling rain,\nand found a great company waiting to present a roast pig in a large\nwooden dish; and another party had brought us puddings all the way from\nNundiokar. So we spent Christmas Eve feasting!\n\nThis morning\u2014Christmas Day\u2014the village was early astir, and soon after\nsix the beating of the _lalis_ summoned us to morning service. The\n_lalis_ are the Fijian substitute for bells: a solid block of wood, six\nor eight feet in length, is hollowed out, like a canoe, and when struck\nwith two sticks produces a deep reverberating tone, which is heard at an\nimmense distance. Most villages have two of these lying side by side, and\nwhen struck by skilful players they are capable of producing an immense\nvariety of notes. So you see we had Christmas chimes even in Fiji.\n\nThe church was large, but not large enough for the congregation and the\ndoors were, as usual in this district, so low that I had to stoop double\nto enter. With no window overhead the atmosphere may be imagined, though\nsomething has been done in the way of a simple system of ventilation, by\npassing a number of hollow bamboos through the roof, of course at such\nan angle as not to let rain enter. Unfortunately the whole congregation\nseemed afflicted with severe coughs and colds, and as yet it has not\noccurred to any charitable people at home to send out a shipload of\npocket-handkerchiefs for the poor Fijians. I heartily wished on this\noccasion that some one had done so.\n\nIn these mountain districts the intense heat of the day is often\nsucceeded at night by the rising of a dense mist, which lies in the\nvalleys like a quiet lake, and steals into the houses, chilling the\nsleepers, few of whom own any warm covering to counteract the sudden\nchange of temperature, which, consequently, is very trying indeed; and\ncoughs and snuffles are almost as common as in a British community.\n\nI observe that the act of sneezing here, as in most other lands, calls\nforth a kindly greeting. Here the familiar \u201cViva,\u201d or \u201cBless you,\u201d takes\nthe form of _Mbula!_ \u201cMay you live!\u201d or \u201cHealth to you!\u201d to which the\nsneezer replies, _Mole_, \u201cThanks;\u201d in former days custom required him to\nadd, \u201cMay you club some one!\u201d or \u201cMay your wife have twins!\u201d[25]\n\nThe ideas of distance, as described in miles, is vague indeed. Hearing\nof a native service to be held in a neighbouring valley, said to be only\nabout two miles above the village where we had halted on the previous\nday, Mr Langham started after breakfast, intending to preach there.\nKnowing the valley to be of exceeding beauty, I purposed accompanying\nhim, but some hints of the difficulty of the path happily made me change\nmy purpose; knowing full well the extreme fatigue of even a short walk on\nthese steep hill-paths, slipping and sliding in deep clay, a task not to\nbe lightly undertaken beneath a burning noonday sun. It was evening ere\nthe walkers returned, having never reached the village at all; for when,\nafter two hours of hard exercise, crossing the stream thirteen times,\nand following a path so steep that it was suggestive of climbing up and\ndown a well-soaped wall, they were told that they were about half-way,\nthey deemed it well to give up the attempt, and so called a halt, resting\nawhile at a deserted village ere retracing the difficult way.\n\nFrom the hints Mr L. had received from some of the people, he deemed it\nadvisable to carry a good revolver; for he mistrusted the young chief,\nand was rather startled when the latter was suddenly joined by four men\ncarrying loaded muskets, and one with a heavy club, which seemed an\nunnecessary adjunct to attending a peaceful Christmas service. Whether\nthere might have been real danger had they proceeded, it is impossible to\nsay. As it was, no harm befell.\n\nIn the course of the walk Mr Langham discovered that food was very scarce\nwith these people, and that our friends of yesterday were sorely put\nto it for a Christmas dinner. Great was their satisfaction on being\ninvited to send a canoe to bring back a share of what had been presented\nto our party; some of whom, however, could ill conceal their disgust at\nbeing called upon to resign so delicious a morsel as roast pig, to these\nhereditary foes. The practical working of the Christmas message of peace\non earth and goodwill towards men, as exemplified by the privilege of\nfeeding a hungering enemy, was one which they could not realise quite\nso quickly. Thus ends our Christmas Day in the heart of Viti Levu. And\nnow it is high time to creep into my green plaid tent and sleep\u2014so good\nnight, and many a merry Christmas to you all!\n\nThis house is beautifully clean, and wonderfully comfortable considering\nall things. It is the home of Aquilla, the native minister, who has\na very nice neat wife, and four pretty little girls, including the\nnicest baby I have seen in Fiji. This afternoon little Mary was my sole\ncompanion on a long walk over steep hills, following a narrow path\nthrough the tall reeds, till we came to the place of graves (_ai mbulu\nmbulu_). We found a flat hill-top cleared, with the graves in the centre,\novershadowed by one noble old tree. The view was magnificent. The Fijians\ninvariably select a beautiful spot wherein to lay their dead, and also\none difficult of access, and well concealed, pointing to the hideous\ndangers of cannibal days.\n\nI daresay you wonder if my dreams are not haunted by all the horrible\nstories I hear of those old days. Happily they are not; indeed the\nonly thought that abides in my mind is of thankful wonder at a change\nwhich seems almost miraculous, so gentle and courteous are these people\nwho, the last thing at night, and the first thing in the morning, slip\nquietly into the house, and kneel reverently while prayers are offered,\ninvariably ending with the familiar blessing, which now falls on my ear\nas naturally as if uttered in our mother tongue:\u2014\n\n\u201cA loloma ni noda Turaga ko Jisu Karisito, kei na loloma ni Kalou ko\nTamada, kei na veilomani ni Yalo Tabu me tiko vei keda kieega ogo ka tawa\nmudu. Emeni.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the\nfellowship of the Holy Spirit, be with us all evermore. Amen.\u201d\n\nYou must not forget to sound an _n_ before the letters _d_, _g_, and\n_q_, and an _m_ before _b_\u2014thus: no_n_da\u2014Tura_n_ga\u2014Tama_n_da\u2014Yalo\nTa_m_bu\u2014ke_n_da\u2014o_n_go\u2014mu_n_du.\n\nNow once more good night, and peaceful be your slumbers.\n\n_P.S._\u2014In case you wish, to say the Lord\u2019s Prayer in Fijian, here it is:\u2014\n\n \u201cOur Father.\n\n \u201cTama i keimami mai loma lagi, me vakavokovoko taki na yacamu,\n me yaco mai na nomu lewa, me caka na nomu veitalia e vura vura\n me vaka mai loma lagi. Solia mai vei keimami e na siga ogo\n nakakana e yaga vei keimami.\n\n \u201cKakua ni cudru vei keimami e na vuku ni neimami vala vala ca\n me vaka keimami sa sega ni cudru vei ira sa vala vala ca vei\n keimami.\n\n \u201cKakua ni kauti keimami ki na vere, ia mai na ca ga mo ni\n vaka bulai keimami; ni sa nomu na lewa kei na kaukauwa kei na\n vakarokoroko e sega ni oti. Emeni.\u201d\n\nThe foregoing version of the Lord\u2019s Prayer is that in general use. The\nversion used by the Lotu Katolika\u2014_i.e._, the Roman Catholic Church\u2014is as\nfollows:\u2014\n\n \u201cTama i keimami, ni sa tiko mai loma lagi, me tabu raki na yaca\n muni; me yaco mai na nomuni lewa; me ia na loma muni e vura\n vura me vaka mai loma lagi.\n\n \u201cNi solia mai kivei keimami edai dai na keimani kakana ni vei\n siga; mo ni vaka le cale cava mai na neimamii vala vala ca me\n vaka keimami sa vaka le cale cava na nodra ko ira e rai vala\n vala ei kivei keimami; ni kakua ni laivi keimami e nai vaka\n caba caba; mo ni vaka bulai keimami mai na ca. Amene.\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\n\n QUITE ALONE IN A MOUNTAIN VILLAGE\u2014RETURN TO REWA\u2014BASALTIC\n PILLARS\u2014REWA POTTERY\u2014BAU\u2014NEW YEAR\u2019S EVE\u2014KING THAKOMBAU AS AN\n ELDER OF THE WESLEYAN CHURCH\u2014PRE-CHRISTIAN TIMES.\n\n\n NAKAMEROUSI, _Monday, Dec. 27_.\n\nDEAREST NELL,\u2014I must begin a letter to you to-night, for the strangeness\nof the situation exceeds any I have yet happened on. I have left the\nLanghams at Nirukuruku, and am here quite by myself, very much at home in\na Fijian hut, and surrounded by natives, most of whom were, till within\nthe last two years, uncompromising cannibals, and who, moreover, have\nnever before beheld the face of a white woman!\n\nThe way it came about was this. When we were going up the river in hot\nhaste, and with no time to loiter by the way, the village of Nakamerousi\nhad attracted my especial admiration. It is perched on a steep bank,\nand looks right along a broad reach of the river to a beautiful\nmountain-range. Being anxious to secure a sketch from that point, it was\nagreed that I should take advantage of the return thither of Reuben,\nthe native teacher, who, with the help of Joshua, one of the boatmen,\naccordingly paddled me down in a small canoe. Great was the astonishment\nof the villagers, and still greater that of Reuben\u2019s exceedingly fat\nwife, in whose house I am spending the night. We made great friends,\nthough I could hardly utter a word of Fijian, and probably few of those\naround me had ever heard a word of English.\n\nAs seen from outside, this house promised well, but on entering I\nperceived that the first effort of civilisation had not improved the\nordinary home. For the teachers have been encouraged to show the\nadvantages of a separate sleeping-room, by having a third of the house\nscreened off with a reed partition, but so little do they appreciate the\ninnovation that they generally convert the inner room into a store-room\nfor yams or lumber. So it is in this case. However, the kind fat old lady\nresigned the post of honour for my benefit, and here I have hung up my\nplaid-curtain and mosquito-net, thereby greatly interesting a crowd of\nspectators, who had previously watched the wonderful process of consuming\nchocolate and biscuits. One kind woman has brought water in a bamboo, and\ntherewith filled my big brass basin (the old companion of my happy tent\nlife in the Himalayas).\n\nNow a party of laughing brown children are holding up small torches of\nblazing bamboo, by the light of which I am writing; but the illumination\nseems to me so likely to end in a general blaze that I will not be\nresponsible for it. And so good night. The girls are greatly delighted\nwith my hair-brushes, especially my tooth-brush. I shall have to keep\njealous guard lest they experiment with it! They themselves use wooden\ncombs, sometimes ornamented with coloured string and beads.\n\nReally these falling sparks are too dangerous. Good night again.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NAVOUNINDRALA, _Dec. 28_.\n\nHere we are back at the junction of the two streams, on which we have\nspent so strangely interesting a fortnight. Our voyage in the canoe is\nover, and we are once more on the main stream, at the point where we left\nthe boat.\n\nI began this letter to you at beautiful Nakamerousi. As soon as possible\nI disappeared within my shawl-tent, and then commenced the family supper,\nfollowed by much smoking, in which the young ladies joined freely. At\nlast I could stand it no longer, and begged them to desist, which they\ndid forthwith with the utmost courtesy. A few minutes later all present\njoined in family prayers, then the house was cleared, and only Mrs Reuben\nand her small boys remained with me.\n\nOn the following morning I with much difficulty escaped from the\ninfliction of a great feast which the kind villagers had prepared for me,\nby contriving to make them understand that they should reserve it for\nthe mission party. The mountains were magnificently clear, and I secured\na satisfactory sketch ere the rest of the party arrived. Of course the\npeople crowded round to inspect this new and extraordinary method of\n_writing the mountains_ in many colours; but they were most courteous\nand quiet, and as usual my only cause of complaint was their vile habit\nof incessantly spitting. From the first day that I commenced sketching\nin Fiji I discovered that here, as with most other semi-civilised races,\nwhite as well as coloured, the first sentence it was necessary to learn\nwas a request to abstain from this noxious practice in my immediate\nneighbourhood!\n\nNow we are back in Ratu Richard\u2019s nice tidy house, which to-day is like a\nbotanical show; for on the way up I gave some children small silver coins\nfor bringing me fronds of a lovely fern with ripe seed (which I enclose\nfor Eisa), and also for other curious plants; so the whole population\nhave been ransacking the bush, and have brought us many rare flowers. I\nnever before saw so many in Fiji. But I fear the poor people are sorely\ndisappointed that I do not want to buy them all. I have, however, just\nbought a very fine necklace of whale\u2019s teeth, which I hope to show you\nsome day. What a sensation it would make at a Northern Meeting Ball!\n\n * * * * *\n\n BAU, _New Year\u2019s Eve_.\n\nNothing special occurred on our return journey. We called at the houses\nof several white men, and received most cordial welcome, and many cups of\ntea with milk, which after our long abstinence seemed true nectar. How\nstrange it did seem once more to sit on chairs and at tables! I fear I\nrather regret giving up mat-life!\n\nWe spent a pleasant day at Rewa with Mr and Mrs Webb, exchanging the news\nof the mountains for that of the great outer world, and did not we enjoy\na civilised breakfast!\n\nRewa is a large village of the invariable thatched houses, with an\nunusually fine thatched church, round which have been set up a series\nof rude stone pillars, some pentagonal,\u2014which are supposed to have been\nbrought from the basaltic cliffs at Khandavu, the outermost isle of the\ngroup. I noted a similar pillar among the ruins of the heathen temple\nat Bau; and here, at Rewa, Mr Webb has happily replaced several which\nformerly surrounded a large barrow where three chiefs are buried, and\nwhich some ruthless hand had overthrown. Mr Webb kindly took me all over\nthe place, and showed me every point of interest.\n\nThe town of Rewa consists of a cluster of villages, inhabited by various\ndivisions of tribes, all subject to a central power. Each village\nis embosomed in luxuriant gardens of broad-leaved banana and tall\nsugar-cane, and we passed from one to another by tidy paths, bordered\nwith ornamental shrubs, denoting unusual care.\n\nHere, as in our own land, the fisher town stands quite apart from the\nhomes of the agricultural population, and intermarriage is equally rare.\nThither we wended our way, in search of the curious pottery made by the\nvery low caste women of the fisher tribe. We had not the luck to catch\nthe potters at work, but from each little cottage specimens were brought\nto us, very varied in form, and of a greenish-red earthenware, glazed.\nMany of the forms are most artistic, the commonest consisting of a\ncluster of vases resembling a bunch of oranges, sometimes as many as six,\nall joined together by one handle. I grieve that their extreme fragility\nshould allow so small a chance of many specimens reaching England in\nsafety. However, I have ordered a good many to be made. I had the good\nfortune to secure several really old pieces in the mountains\u2014finely\nshaped bowls and water-jars\u2014and these have travelled so far without\ndamage.\n\n[Illustration: ISLES OF OVALAU, MOTURIKI, BAU AND VIWA, FROM VITI LEVU.\n\n_p. 111._]\n\nIn the afternoon we continued our voyage down one of the many branches\ninto which the river here divides, entering the sea by many mouths, which\nare in fact salt-water creeks, winding through the dense mangrove-forest.\nWe called at Navouloa, the training college for native students, now in\ncharge of Mr Waterhouse.\n\nThence a few hours\u2019 sail brought us here to Bau, the native capital. It\nis a tiny island, lying close to the great isle of Viti Levu, with which\nindeed it is connected by a low neck of land, which is fordable at low\ntide. Small as it is, it holds a very important place in the estimation\nof a Fijian, being the home of the great chief Thakombau and all his\nfamily, and of nobles before whom the tribes of other districts bow in\nhumblest deference, and to whom they grant special privileges. Its chief\ntakes precedence of all other chiefs; and the mere fact of belonging to\nBau gives a man a definite position. Moreover, the language of Bau is to\nthe isles of Fiji as the Latin tongue is to the civilised world\u2014the one\nlanguage which all are bound to understand, however different may be that\nof each country.\n\nThe town has great historic interest, but what with the ravages of\nfire and the pulling down of all the old temples (whose high-pitched\nroofs formerly gave some character to the town), it now possesses no\narchitectural features whatever\u2014the house of Thakombau, the ex-king (or,\nas he prefers to be called by his hereditary title, the Vuni Valu, or\nRoot of War), being as simple a thatched cottage as any other round the\nbeach. So this regal town consists only of a cluster of cottages on the\nwater-level, overshadowed by several large trees. Each member of the\nroyal family has his or her own house. There is the king\u2019s house and the\nqueen\u2019s house, the king\u2019s kitchen (which I think is rather larger than\neither), and the homes of their sons.\n\nThe mission-station at Bau occupies the flat summit of the green hill\nwhich composes the island, and is a good illustration of how differently\nmen estimate things. According to our views it is by far the best site on\nthe island, but the missionaries were only allowed to build there because\nno native cared to leave the water-level, and the summit of the hillock\nwas the receptacle for all the rubbish and filth of the town, and was,\nconsequently, so undesirable a place of residence, that only the policy\nof securing a footing in the actual capital induced the mission to accept\nthis site. But it was Hobson\u2019s choice,\u2014that or none.\n\nIt must have been indeed a hateful home in those days, when you could not\nlook down from the windows to the town below without witnessing scenes\nof unspeakable horror, the very thought of which is appalling; when the\nsoil was saturated with blood, and the ovens were never cool, by reason\nof the multitude of human victims continually brought to replenish them.\n\nNow the site of the ovens is marked only by greener grass; but an old\ntree close by is covered, branch and stem, with notches, each one of\nwhich is the record of some poor wretch whose skull was dashed against a\nstone at the temple, the foundations of which are still to be seen a few\nsteps further on. The tree is the sole survivor of a sacred grove, which,\nlike that at Rewa, was cut down on account of the superstitious reverence\nin which it was held, and the dark memories attaching to it. Beside it\nis the well, where the bodies were brought to be washed, just below the\nmission wicket.\n\nHere, too, are the great wooden drums, which in those evil days only\nsounded a doom of death, or summoned the people to some scene of horrible\nrevelry, but which now beat only to call them to Christian worship, or to\nsummon them to school; and near the drums and the ovens the walls of a\nstone church are slowly rising.\n\nVery different, too, is the scene on the hill-top, where roses and\njessamines now perfume the air around a pleasant home\u2014while on one side\ncluster the mission buildings, where the students are fed and taught; and\nbeautiful is the panorama of sea and isles which lies outstretched on two\nsides of the horizon, while on the other lie the near shores and distant\nmountains of Viti Levu.\n\nGreat was the excitement of the juvenile population of this tiny isle\nwhen we arrived late last night, and each little urchin was trusted to\ncarry some of our quaint treasures up the hill, and deposit them in the\nverandah, which really looked very much like a timber-yard when we looked\nout next morning! Such an _omnium gatherum_ of wooden pillows and clubs,\nspears and bowls, wooden trays and sticks, to say nothing of sundry\npieces of pottery, and a pile of savage finery!\n\nThe first to welcome us on landing was the native minister, Joeli Mbulu,\na fine old Tongan chief. His features are beautiful, his colour clear\nolive, and he has grey hair and a long silky grey beard. He is just my\nideal of what Abraham must have been, and would be worth a fortune to an\nartist as a patriarchal study.\n\nAll the people are preparing for their New Year feast to-morrow, and\nhave been all day coming up in crowds to consult Mrs Langham about their\nclothes and other matters.\n\n10 P.M.\u2014I must write a few words just to prove that I am thinking of you\nall on this last night of the old year. _You_ are just about finishing\nbreakfast. _We_ are just starting for the midnight service, which on this\nnight (Watch-night the Wesleyans call it) is held in every church all\nover these isles. I shall wish you a glad New Year at the right moment.\n\n_First Sunday in 1876._\u2014I left off to go to the midnight service. It\nwas a very impressive scene, though the church having recently been\nblown down in a hurricane, and the large house for strangers which was\nnext used having been burnt in a recent fire and the new one not being\nfinished, the congregation have to meet in two smaller buildings.\n\nChurches here are just like the houses on a very large scale. They are on\na raised foundation of stones for drainage, and are all built of trees\nand reeds, with high roof, thatched, and walls thickly coated outside\nwith dry leaves. Of course they burn very readily. The pillars and\nrafters are often decorated with beautiful patterns in sinnet-work\u2014that\nis, coloured string made of cocoa-nut fibre woven into elaborate patterns.\n\nOn New Year\u2019s Eve the churches are beautifully decorated with green\nleaves; and exquisitely made wreaths and necklaces of berries,\nalternating with bunches of tiny leaves and flowers, hang all about the\nlamps. They are very pretty, but of oppressive scent. At the midnight\nservice two of the native teachers gave short addresses, and as the clock\nstruck twelve there was a short interval for silent prayer. Then the Vuni\nValu, the fine old ex-king, prayed, as a beginning of the New Year. They\ntell me his prayers are generally very striking and very touching.\n\nAfter service we all stood for a while in the bright starlight,\nexchanging New Year greetings, while the children indulged in noisily\nbeating the _lalis_, the big wooden drums, and (alas for British\nimportations!) rattling old tin cases! and so making night hideous. This\nNew Year festival is an anniversary of purely English origin, the native\nmethod of marking seasons being simply by the yam crops.\n\nThakombau is a very fine old man, stately and chief-like in his bearing,\nand with clear, penetrating eyes. It certainly was strange to hear\nthe first words of prayer uttered in the New Year flowing from _his_\nlips, concerning whose youth and manhood we had heard such appalling\ntales\u2014tales, moreover, which we knew to be undoubtedly true, beginning\nwith that early feat of his childhood, when at the tender age of six,\nthe young Seru, as he was then called, clubbed his first victim, a boy\nsomewhat his senior.\n\nThe first fifty years of his life were passed in wars and fightings, and\ndisgraced by unspeakable barbarities, including the strangling of his\nfather\u2019s five wives, after the death of that old miscreant. But while\nstill a determined heathen, he was not altogether unfriendly to the\nmissionaries, whose remonstrances he would often endure, while rejecting\ntheir counsels. Their teaching was strongly supported by his wife, Andi\nLytia, and his daughter Andi Arietta Kuilla (Lady Harriet Flag). The\nlatter is a woman of masculine intellect, who rules her own district\nsplendidly, and is the king\u2019s best adviser. Like many another, however,\nThakombau turned a deaf ear to all their arguments so long as his way was\nprosperous. It was not till 1854, when one tribe after another had thrown\noff his yoke, and his fame as a warrior was dimmed, that he began to lose\nfaith in his own gods, and to listen with a more favourable ear to the\ncounsels of the Christian King George of Tonga, who sent him a letter\nurging him also to become a worshipper of the Saviour.\n\nLike King David of old, in his heaviness of heart he thought upon God,\nand determined to join the _lotu_; and on the 30th of April he gave\norders that the great drums (which ten days previously had been beaten\nto call the people to the temples for a great cannibal feast) should now\nsound to summon them to assemble in the great strangers\u2019 house to worship\nthe true God. About three hundred there met, and the Vuni Valu, with\nall his wives, children, and other relatives, knelt together in solemn\nadoration of the Christian\u2019s God. Mr Calvert and Mr Waterhouse conducted\nthe service. This was a day for which they had long worked and prayed,\nhoping against hope\u2014a day ever to be remembered as one of the most\nimportant in the annals of Fiji.\n\nBut the outward state of matters was very unsatisfactory. Thakombau\u2019s\nimplacable foe, the chief of Rewa, had acquired great power, and\nannounced his intention of utterly destroying Bau and its king and\npeople, whom he would soon eat; and proclaimed that he defied their new\nGod Jehovah to save them. At the same time he had the courtesy to send\na message to Mr Waterhouse to beg him and his family to leave the town\nbefore he set it on fire. At such a time it certainly needed both faith\nand courage to stick to his post, but both Mr Waterhouse and his devoted\nwife determined to hold their ground, greatly to the satisfaction of the\nking. Then followed a period of dire anxiety. There were fears within\nthe isle, and fightings without\u2014fears of treachery from hostile tribes\nliving even on the little isle itself.\n\nBut at the darkest hour came deliverance. The King of Rewa died of\ndysentery. His chiefs received Thakombau\u2019s overtures of peace favourably.\nKing George of Tonga came to Fiji, and somehow, unintentionally, drifted\ninto the general war and helped to bring it to a speedy end. Seventy\ntowns returned to their allegiance to Bau, and great was the wonder\nexcited by the king\u2019s clemency; his whole aim being to secure a lasting\npeace, and to induce all concerned to attend to the cultivation of the\nland and the interests of trade.\n\nAll this time he had been carefully studying the doctrines of the faith\nhe professed; but in his case, as in many others, it was deemed desirable\nto defer his baptism for a considerable period, till his instructors were\nconvinced of his being thoroughly in earnest. It is a point on which the\nmission has always insisted strongly, that every convert should continue\nfor a long period on probation, and receive careful individual training\nbefore being admitted to baptism. It was not till January 1857 that,\nhaving dismissed all his wives except one, Thakombau was publicly married\nto Audi Lytia, and they were baptised together.\n\nFrom that moment he has taken no retrograde step. Always resolute in\nwhatever line of conduct he adopted, he has shown himself most truly so\nin the promotion of Christianity, and of every measure that promised to\nbe for the good of his people. Determined and energetic in his relations\nto other chiefs, he has of late years thrown all his influence on behalf\nof peace and order, and now professes himself well content with the\nsubordinate position he has accepted, believing that he has thereby\nconsulted the best interests of all his countrymen.\n\nHis eldest son, Ratu Abel, cannot look so placidly on the resignation\nof his birthright, and holds himself somewhat aloof from the foreign\nrulers. His half-brothers, Ratu Timothy and Ratu Joe, are more cordial,\nand, moreover, talk very good English. They are fine handsome fellows,\nand inherit something of their father\u2019s stately carriage; indeed all the\nchiefs are distinguishable from the common herd by their dignity and\ngrace of movement, the lack of which among some of the commoners is due,\ndoubtless, to the fact that no Fijian dare stand upright in the presence\nof a superior: if at rest he must crouch before him (in no case presuming\nto pass behind him), or if in motion, must either crawl on all-fours or\nwalk bending lowly. Even Thakombau\u2019s own sons scarcely venture to stand\nupright before him. Naturally such a custom, continuing from generation\nto generation, becomes second nature.\n\nAt early dawn on New Year\u2019s morning I went out, the better to enjoy\nthe loveliness of the scene, the soft balmy air, the dreamy beauty of\nthe far-away isles, and the wondrous calm of the wide waters. I sat on\na grassy hillock and watched the sun rise from the sea, reflected in\ndazzling light. Below me lay the peaceful village, where it seemed none\nwere yet astir.\n\nI was leaning against a rude wooden pillar which marks the grave of\nTanoa, Thakombau\u2019s aged father, who to the last continued a vicious\nand obstinate cannibal. Nothing delighted him more than to return from\ntributary isles with the bodies of infants hanging from the yard-arms\nof his canoe, as tribute exacted from their parents! Horrible beyond\ndescription are the stories of his brutalities. I may just tell you one\nas a sample of many.\n\nOne of his near kinsmen had offended him, and knowing how little pity he\nhad to expect, sought by every means in his power to mollify him, humbly\nimploring his forgiveness. But the fiend responded by cutting off his arm\nat the elbow, and drinking the warm blood as it flowed. Then he cooked\nthe arm, and ate it in presence of the sufferer, who afterwards was cut\nto pieces, limb by limb, while the brutal chief sat watching and gloating\nover the dying agonies of the miserable victim. Afterwards he sentenced\nhis own youngest son to death, and compelled an elder brother to club him.\n\nWhen the time of his own death drew near\u2014I think it was in the year\n1852\u2014he gave special injunctions that his wives should on no account\nfail to accompany him to the spirit-world. Two English missionaries\u2014Mr\nCalvert and Mr Watsford, who had for years vainly striven to convert\nthis atrocious old heathen\u2014now exerted their whole influence to try and\npersuade Thakombau to refrain from carrying out his father\u2019s wicked\nwill. These felt that success in this matter would be an earnest of\nwavering from heathendom on the part of the king. So Mr Calvert offered a\nprincely gift of whale\u2019s teeth, and even to have his own finger cut off\n(Vaka Viti\u2014_i.e._, Fiji fashion), if only the lives of the women might\nbe spared; but to no purpose. Mr Watsford offered twenty muskets, the\nmission whale-boat, and all his own personal property; but all in vain.\nThakombau had just assumed the title of Tui Viti\u2014King of Viti\u2014and felt\nthat his dignity would suffer by the omission of any customary ceremony.\nIt is the privilege of an eldest son first to strangle his own mother,\nand then to assist in performing the same kind office for the other\nwidows. So the five ladies were dressed with all pomp, and placed the\nnew cords round their necks as proudly as though they had been precious\nornaments; and Thakombau himself assisted the men whose office it was\nto strangle his mother and the four other women. Out of deference to\nthe white men\u2019s prayer, he offered life to one victim; but she refused\nit,\u2014not from any love to her cruel lord, but simply because it was the\ncustom of Fiji.\n\nSo here they all lie side by side, on the green hillock overlooking the\nbroad blue Pacific and the isles where the name of Tanoa was once so\nsorely dreaded.\n\nI turned back to the peaceful, pleasant mission-home, and lingered in the\nfragrant garden, looking across to Viwa, where the early missionaries\nestablished themselves before gaining a footing in Bau. Brave women were\nthe wives of those men; and in many a scene of horror, and many a peril,\ndid they prove themselves helps-meet for the men of earnest purpose whose\nlot they shared. I will give you one instance of the part they took here\nin those awful days\u2014not remote days either; for the story I will tell you\nhappened just thirty years ago.\n\nA piratical tribe, called the Mbutoni, had brought a large offering of\ntheir spoil as tribute to the old king, Tanoa. Custom required that\na feast of human flesh should be prepared for them, but the larder\nwas empty, and no prisoners of war could be obtained. Under these\ncircumstances, it was the duty of Ngavindi, the chief of the _lasakau_,\nor fishermen, to provide victims. Two young men were accordingly\nentrapped; but these not being deemed sufficient, the wary fisher went\nforth with his men. They ran their canoes among the mangrove-bushes,\nand covered either end with green boughs, and then lay in wait. Soon a\ncompany of fourteen women came down to fish. They were seized and bound,\nand carried off to Bau to furnish a feast for the morrow. News of this\nreached Viwa, where Mrs Calvert and Mrs Lyth were living alone with\ntheir children, their husbands having gone to teach on another island.\nThey determined to make an attempt to save the lives of their luckless\nsisters; so having induced a friendly native to take them across in his\ncanoe, they started on their errand of mercy. As they neared the shore\nit was evident that the cannibals were in a state of frantic excitement:\nthe death-drums were booming, muskets firing, in token of rejoicing;\nand then piercing shrieks rose above the wild din, and told that the\nhorrid butchery had begun. It needed desperate courage for these two lone\n(and apparently unprotected) women to land on the isle and face that\nbloodthirsty rabble. But with resolute courage and unfailing faith they\npressed on.\n\nOn the beach they were met by a Christian chief, who led them through\nthe crowd to Tanoa\u2019s house, which it was death for any woman to enter.\nBut unheeding their own safety, they forced their way in, with a whale\u2019s\ntooth in each hand, as the customary offering when making a petition.\nThe old man was so amazed at their courage, that he commanded that such\nas still lived should be spared; and a messenger was despatched to see\nthat the order was obeyed. Nine had already perished; but five survived,\nand were set at liberty, blessing their brave deliverers, who, not\nsatisfied with having gained their object so far, went straight to the\nhouse of Ngavindi, the chief butcher, who was sitting in full dress,\nrejoicing in his work. They spoke to him earnestly on the subject, and\nhad the satisfaction of seeing that his chief wife and that of Thakombau\ncordially seconded their words. A few days later, H.M.S. Havannah\ntouched the isles, and Captain Erskine went to Viwa to call at the\nmission. They had just sat down to tea, and he had just been delicately\nhinting his belief that many of the missionary stories about these nice\nwell-conducted people were grossly exaggerated, when Ngavindi came in to\nask Mrs Lyth about the great English ship. He was most kindly received,\nand took his place at table with perfect ease. Captain Erskine described\nhim as a very handsome, prepossessing young fellow, of modest and gentle\nmanners. He could scarcely believe that he had just been chief actor in\nthis horrid business. Not long after this, Ngavindi was slain in battle,\nwhen attempting to carry off a dead body. One of his wives was sister\nto Thakombau, whose duty it now was to strangle her; but the tribe\npetitioned that her life might be spared, that her unborn child might\nbecome their chief. So the old mother offered herself as a substitute,\nand the king strangled her with his own hand\u2014a hand which had already cut\noff the nose of one sister, as a punishment for being unfaithful to her\nhusband.[26] So Ngavindi lay in state on a raised platform, with one\ndead wife at his side, and the corpse of his mother at his feet, and an\nattendant close by; and all were laid together in one grave.\n\nThe day after Captain Erskine had made acquaintance with the gentle,\ncourteous Ngavindi, he came to Bau, where he saw the bloody stone on\nwhich the heads of multitudes of victims had been dashed, when presented\nto the god at the chief temple. The Mbutoni guests were still in the\nstranger\u2019s house, and to prove how well they had been received, they\npointed out four or five large ovens in which the nine women had been\ncooked; and also the spot where a few months previously, after the\ncapture of Lokia, a town belonging to Rewa, eighty corpses of those slain\nin battle had been heaped up, previous to being apportioned to the greedy\nwarriors.\n\nBut in a greater or less degree this was the ever-recurring story, and\nthe days of joy and rejoicing for men, women, and little children, were\nthose on which canoes arrived bringing _bokola_, which were thrown into\nthe sea and ignominiously dragged ashore with shouts of joy, and made the\noccasion for wild orgies and mad dances of death.\n\nIt was only people who had been killed that were considered good for\nfood. Those who died a natural death were never eaten,\u2014invariably\nburied. But it certainly is a wonder that the isles were not altogether\ndepopulated, owing to the number who were killed. Thus in Namena, in the\nyear 1851, fifty bodies were cooked for one feast. And when the men of\nBau were at war with Verata, they carried off 260 bodies, seventeen of\nwhich were piled on a canoe and sent to Rewa, where they were received\nwith wild joy, dragged about the town, and subjected to every species\nof indignity ere they finally reached the ovens. Then, too, just think\nof the number of lives sacrificed in a country where infanticide was a\nrecognised institution, and where widows were strangled as a matter of\ncourse! Why, on one occasion, when there had been a horrible massacre\nof Namena people at Viwa, and upwards of one hundred fishermen had been\nmurdered and their bodies carried as _bokola_ to the ovens at Bau, no\nless than eighty women were strangled to do honour to the dead, and the\ncorpses lay strewn in every direction round the mission station! It\nis just thirty years since the Rev. John Watsford, writing from here,\ndescribes how twenty-eight victims had been seized in one day while\nfishing. They were brought here alive, and only stunned when they were\nput into the ovens. Some of the miserable creatures attempted to escape\nfrom the scorching bed of red-hot stones, but only to be driven back and\nburied in that living tomb, whence they were taken a few hours later to\nfeast their barbarous captors. He adds, that probably more human beings\nwere eaten on this little isle of Bau than anywhere else in Fiji. It is\nvery hard indeed to realise that the peaceful village on which I am now\nlooking has really been the scene of such horrors as these, and that many\nof the gentle, kindly people round me have actually taken part in them.\n\nBefore we had finished breakfast, we had a New Year\u2019s morning visit\nfrom the old king\u2019s daughter, Andi Arietta Kuilla, accompanied by her\nbeautiful youngest boy, little Timothy. She has two other children, Ratu\nBeny (Benjamin) and a little girl rejoicing in the name of Jane Emilia.\nWe walked back with her to her father\u2019s house, at the foot of this\nhill, and found her mother, Andi Lytia, the old queen, suffering from a\nvery severe cough. She was lying on her mats beside a central fireplace\n(_i.e._, a square hollow in the floor). She wore only a long waist-cloth,\na style of dress which displayed her ample proportions to the utmost, and\nbeing so huge, she did strike one as being rather undraped! But no one\nthinks anything about it, so I suppose it is only prejudice. Happily both\nthese immense ladies are strikingly handsome, with massive features and\nclever heads, which have been proved to contain good brains.\n\nTheir home, like those of their neighbours, is simply a large room strewn\nwith mats, on which the family and their guests recline. The king\u2019s own\nhouse stands apart, but he reserves a corner here, which is shut off by\na heavy curtain of native cloth; and one uncomfortable-looking chair\nrevealed his wish to conform to foreign customs. He thought it necessary\nto sit on this when I first entered the house, but soon sacrificed\ndignity to comfort, and reclined on his mat, while his family squatted\nround him.\n\nA large number of lamps attracted my attention, as did also two\nneck-pillows, each formed of a joint of the largest bamboo I have ever\nseen, measuring 5\u00bd inches in diameter. It had drifted ashore from some\nunknown isle, and been brought to the Vuni Valu as a rare prize. It is\ncertainly a curiosity, but not quite one\u2019s idea of a comfortable pillow\nfor a weary head. A Fijian pillow, however, is merely a neck-rest; the\nhead still supports itself as it was taught to do in those days of the\nelaborate hair-dressing, on which the chiefs prided themselves so greatly\nthat each considered it necessary to have his especial barber, whose joy\nand delight it was to adorn the head of his master with curls and twists\nand plaits, more numerous and more wonderful than those of any other\nchief.\n\nIt was strangely suggestive of a stormy past to hear the old king, who\nwas eager for particulars of our expedition up the Rewa, constantly\nasking Mr Langham to explain exactly where the different towns were of\nwhich we spoke. Then I found that neither he nor his daughter (whose own\ndistrict is actually on the Rewa) had ever even heard of these towns;\nwhile as to seeing them, no tribe _ever_ saw anything beyond their own\nproperty unless they went as invaders in time of war. I showed Andi\nKuilla sketches of places within a day\u2019s march of her own property, but\nshe had never seen any of them.\n\nAnother suggestive thought is awakened when, on shaking the hand so\ncordially offered by these comely ladies, we are conscious of the absence\nof at least one finger. By such sacrifice the women of Fiji (like those\nof Tahiti and Hawaii) have hitherto shown their mourning for the dead,\nor made their appeal to the gods to save the sick. So you rarely meet a\nwoman above middle age who has not lost one or both her little fingers.\nThe operation is performed with a sharp shell, with which the mourner\nsaws the first joint till she cuts it off. On the next occasion of\nmourning, she sacrifices the second joint. The little finger of the other\nhand supplies a third and fourth proof of sorrow. After this, the Fijian\nequivalent of wearing crape is to rub the poor mutilated stumps on rough\nstones till they bleed.\n\nI have been in sole possession of the house all the morning, every other\ncreature being at church, notwithstanding a thermometer at about 90\u00b0,\nwhich decided my remaining on the hill-top in a fresher atmosphere than\nthat of the crowded church. But I am going this afternoon to accompany\nMr Langham, who holds service at a pretty village on the big isle, some\nway up a lovely river, so I may as well close this letter, ready for\nto-morrow\u2019s mail.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\n\n A STRANGE VOLCANIC ISLE\u2014JOELI MBULU, A TONGAN APOSTLE\u2014THE\n CONVERSION OF THE PEOPLE OF ONO\u2014THAKOMBAU\u2019S CANOE\u2014A ROYAL\n GARDENER\u2014A SMALL HURRICANE\u2014EARLY PRAYERS\u2014BREAKFAST ON\n THANGALEI\u2014BETWEEN THE BREAKERS\u2014AT HOME AT NASOVA.\n\n\n NASOVA, _January 14, 1876_.\n\nDEAREST NELL,\u2014You see I have got safely home from my travels in the\nwilds, and I am bound to confess that there is a good deal to be said\nin favour of the comforts of civilisation, however strongly my gipsy\ninstincts do at times assert themselves! I must tell you, however, of\nseveral delightful expeditions we made from Mrs Langham\u2019s charming home\nat Bau. The first was to the neighbouring isle of Viwa, which was one of\nthe early mission stations, and is now the home of Mr Lindsay, who has\ncharge of a large district, extending to the mountains of Viti Levu. It\nwas a pretty picture to see his two very fair delicate little girls in\ncharge of a little Fijian maiden scarcely bigger than themselves. After a\nvery pleasant afternoon we returned home by clear moonlight\u2014a lovely walk\nthrough the forest was followed by a calm row across the bay. But a very\ncommon difficulty awaited us on reaching the shore. The tide was low; the\nboat lay far out, I think nearly a quarter of a mile, and the accepted\nway to reach it was to submit to be carried like monstrous dolls by one,\nsometimes by two, strong natives. However, nothing seems strange when you\nare used to it. It is only one\u2019s first experience of anything which is\nstartling.\n\nThe two families agreed to devote the next day to exploring two small\nislands, visible from both homes, but which, being uninhabited, had never\nyet invited nearer inspection. You know I always say it is my mission in\nlife to stir up my friends in all corners of the globe to take me to see\nplaces of interest close to their own homes, but never before visited by\nthemselves. So next morning we all met at the small isle of Tomberrua,\nwhich is an ancient place of burial. Many old chiefs lie beneath the\ncocoa-palms, but their graves are all uncared for and overgrown. The\nlovely white sand tempted us to bathe in the warm sunny sea\u2014a rare\npleasure, for there are so few places tolerably safe from sharks.\n\nWe then rowed to the other isle, Manbualau, which proved to be the most\nextraordinary specimen of volcanic formation I have ever seen; all one\nvast honeycomb of hard cutting rock, with deep fissures intervening\nbetween ridges so close together that you can step from one to the other.\nThe rock is veiled with rank vegetation, which adds to the danger and\ndifficulty of the scramble; and innumerable bats haunt the great Mbaka\ntrees (a sort of Fijian banyan), which overshadow the whole, their\ncountless interlacing stems finding a holding-ground in every crevice of\nthe rock. It is an exceedingly curious place, utterly unlike anything I\nknow elsewhere.\n\nI walked across the isle to the other side with the gentlemen but it\nwas difficult to make our way, and the smell of bats was positively\nsickening; so we were glad to hurry back and join the rest of the party,\nwho had kindled a fire and prepared a cheerful tea in our absence.\n\nThe next few days slipped pleasantly by. I sketched various points of\ninterest, such as the great Mbaka trees near the old king\u2019s house, the\nfoundations of the great temple, and the stone on which the victims\u2019\nheads were dashed (which is a basaltic pillar from Khandavu).\n\nI went several times with Mrs Langham to see the noble old Tongan\nminister, Joeli Mbulu, whose wife, Echesa, is very unwell; such a\nnice, lady-like old woman, so kindly and so sensible. They belong to\nthat fine race of Tongans who were, in fact, the earliest missionaries\nin these isles; for so soon as they themselves had embraced the new\nfaith (as preached by the Wesleyan teachers in the Friendly Isles)\nthey endeavoured to spread it wherever they journeyed; and as they had\nfrequent intercourse with some parts of Fiji, it was not long before the\nTongan sailors taught all they had learned to such of their own kinsmen\nas had already colonised here, and to such Fijians as could be induced to\nhear them. It was the moving tale of awful horrors told by these men, and\nthe encouragement afforded by the sowing of that first seed, that induced\nthe Rev. W. Cross and the Rev. David Cargill to leave the comparative\ncomfort of their homes in Tonga to come and establish the mission in\nFiji, where they landed in October 1835, at Lakemba, the principal island\nin a group at least 200 miles from here, where a considerable number of\nTongans had already settled. These men proved invaluable helpers. Better\npioneers could not have been desired. Men of strong energetic character\nand determination, keenly intelligent, physically superior to the average\nFijian, and therefore commanding their respect, they had always taken\nthe lead wherever they went; and as in their heathen days they had been\nforemost in reckless evil, they now threw their whole influence into\nthe scale of good. Having an independent position of their own, and\nconsiderable power, they were able at once to establish all outward\nobservances of religion, without fear of hindrance from the chiefs. And\nso something of the nature of Christianity was made, known more rapidly\nand more widely than it could have been by any other means. Of course\nthis is not literally true of all the Tongans in the colony. There were\nmany who, although they professed the new faith, continued as proud and\nhaughty as ever, making themselves hated and feared as of yore; but\nthe majority proved themselves truly in earnest, and many became most\ndevoted teachers, ready to go forth to any distant point where there\nmight be a chance of doing good.\n\nForemost amongst these was Joeli Mbulu, a man whose faith is evidently\nan intense reality. I have rarely met any man so perfectly simple, or\nso unmistakably in earnest. He proved himself so thoroughly worthy of\nconfidence that in due time he was ordained as a native minister, and\nsent to take charge of the remote cluster of isles, of which Ono is the\nprincipal. This little group lies about 150 miles south-east of Lakemba,\nto which it was tributary, and is the southernmost part of Fiji. The\nstory of its early groping from its own deep darkness to the light, is\nso strange and touching, that I must tell you something about it. It was\ntruly the story of\n\n \u201cAn infant crying for the light,\n And with no language but a cry.\u201d\n\nIn the year 1835, just before the first white missionaries came to Fiji,\nmany events conspired to depress these poor people. An unusual number had\nbeen slain in their incessant wars, when an epidemic disease broke out\nwhich carried off many more. The survivors, much alarmed, thronged the\ntemples of their gods, bringing large offerings of food, and such things\nas they possessed, and all rites of worship were diligently observed, but\nto no purpose.\n\nJust then a chief named Wai returned from Lakemba, where he had met a\nFijian chief called Takei, who had been in the Friendly Islands, and had\nlearnt something about Christianity. It amounted to little more than\nthat there was but one God, whom all must serve continually, and that\none day in seven was to be devoted to His worship. It was but a faint\nglimmer of light, but they determined to act on it. So on the sixth day\nthey prepared their food for the seventh, on the morning of which they\ndressed, as for a festival, and assembled to worship this unknown God.\nBut here a difficulty arose, as to how to set about it. In their dilemma\nthey sent for the heathen priest, whose god they were now forsaking,\nand requested him to officiate for them. This he did, to the best of\nhis power, offering a short and simple prayer for the blessing of the\nChristian\u2019s God, but intimating that he himself was merely spokesman for\nhis neighbours, being himself a worshipper of another God!\n\nThis was the first act of Christian worship in the far-away isle of\nOno. A great longing now arose for fuller knowledge of the truth; so\nwhen a whaling ship chanced to touch here for provisions on her way to\nTonga, a passage was engaged on board of her for two men who were sent\nas messengers to ask for a teacher. But several months elapsed ere an\nanswer could reach them, and meanwhile Christianity was spreading at\nLakemba, and many Tongan converts (whose chief attraction to Fiji had\nbeen the wildly licentious life which they might there lead without let\nor hindrance), now decided to return to their own homes. A canoe-load of\nthese started from Lakemba in May 1836, but were driven by contrary winds\nto the isle of Vatoa (the Turtle), about fifty miles from Ono. Here they\nheard of what had happened there, and one of their number (who at his\nbaptism had taken the name of Josiah, and who had acted as their chaplain\nduring the voyage), determined to go to Ono and teach the people all he\nknew. Great was their joy at his coming, and day by day he thenceforth\nled their devotions. Soon they built a chapel, which would hold 100\npersons. All this was done ere the messengers from Tonga returned to tell\nthat white teachers had gone to Lakemba, and that to them they must apply\nfor help. Another long delay.\n\nBut meanwhile the desired teacher was being trained all unknown to them.\nOne of their own islanders, a wild Ono lad, had contrived to wander all\nthe way to Tonga, and you can fancy that several hundred miles in an\nopen canoe is no easy journey, especially when every isle to which you\nmay unintentionally drift is inhabited by fierce cannibals of unfriendly\ntribes. An ordinary canoe is a very unsafe vessel in a storm, and in\nheathen days shipwreck invariably meant death; for even should the crew\nreach the land in safety, and find themselves on shores which, under\nordinary circumstances, would be friendly, they were declared to have\nsalt water in their eyes, and were doomed to death and the oven. But the\nlad in question reached Tonga in safety, and there he found the people\nearnestly conforming to the new faith. He attended their services,\nlearnt much, and on returning to Lakemba became truly converted, and\nfor several years lived a consistent Christian life, taking the name of\nIsaac Ravuata. He soon learnt to read and write well, and acquired so\nmuch knowledge that he became a useful assistant in the mission. When,\ntherefore, the message from Ono reached Lakemba, it was evident that he\nwas the right man for the work; he was accordingly despatched, and gladly\nwas he welcomed by his countrymen. He found that 120 persons had given up\nidolatry, and were thirsting for further knowledge of the Christian faith.\n\nThe following year a Tongan teacher was sent to assist him; by this\ntime three chapels had been built, and so anxious were the converts for\ninstruction, that the Christian crew of the canoe said they had scarcely\nbeen allowed needful sleep, so eager were the people to learn all that\nthey possibly could teach them. They found that the little isle of Vatoa\nhad also become _lotu_, and all these people prayed that they might be\nvisited by a white missionary who might administer the sacraments. It\nseemed hard to refuse such a prayer, but labourers were few and the work\nwas vast. Mr Calvert and his wife were left quite alone at Lakemba,\nwhere Tui Nayau, the king, and most of his chiefs and people, continued\nheathen, and often antagonistic. Fifteen years elapsed before the king\ndetermined to accept the _lotu_. As far as possible, Mr Calvert travelled\nabout this group of twenty isles, teaching the people, and now this\nfurther claim on time and strength seemed beyond his power. It was a\nlong and dangerous journey to undertake in a frail canoe, and involved\nan absence certainly of weeks, possibly of months; and the thought of\nleaving his wife utterly alone in the midst of ferocious cannibals was\naltogether appalling. At this crisis it was she\u2014a most gentle and loving\nwoman\u2014who came to his help, and urged him to go. Still there was the\ndifficulty of getting a canoe sufficiently seaworthy for such a long\nand dangerous voyage. However, not long afterwards, a Tongan chief came\nto Lakemba in a large canoe, and consented to take Mr Calvert to Ono.\nThere he found that a wonderful and cheering work had been accomplished,\nand that a large proportion of the people were living genuine Christian\nlives, thoroughly blameless. Of these he baptised upwards of two hundred,\nand married sixty-six couples, and by his encouragement and presence\ngreatly cheered the little body of converts. It was not to be supposed\nthat this movement had progressed without serious opposition from many of\nthe heathen inhabitants, and many events occurred at this time, stranger\nthan any fiction.\n\nAmongst other incidents, there was the baptism of Tovo, the beautiful\ndaughter of the chief of Ono. She had become a devoted Christian, and\ndelighted in doing all the good in her power, visiting the sick and\nteaching in the schools. But in infancy she had been betrothed to the\nold heathen king of Lakemba, who now claimed her to be his thirtieth\nwife. She resolutely refused to fulfil this heathen betrothal, her\nfather and all the Christian chiefs fully supporting her. On returning\nto Lakemba, Mr Calvert learnt that the old king had fitted out a fleet\nof eleven canoes, manned with warriors, and intended going himself to\nseize his bride. He went to him, bearing the customary whale\u2019s tooth\nas a peace-offering, and besought him to refrain from this marauding\nexpedition; but finding his words were to no purpose, he solemnly warned\nhim that in fighting against these people, he was fighting against\nthe Almighty, whose care they had invoked. The king, nothing daunted,\nset sail, and reached the Christian isle of Vatoa, where he cruelly\nill-treated the people, wantonly destroying their food and property.\nThere he remained several days, waiting for a fair breeze; but he\ndespatched four canoes with a hundred piratical warriors, to await him at\nOno. These canoes were never heard of again. When the fair wind sprang\nup he started in person, but though he actually sighted Ono, the wind\nshifted, and he was blown far away to leeward. The breeze freshened;\nthe canoes and all on board were in imminent danger. Almost by miracle\nthey escaped and returned to Lakemba, when the king sent to Mr Calvert\nthe feast which, in his hour of danger, he had vowed to his gods, and\nprayed that his words of warning might never follow him again. He\nexpressed his willingness to accept the customary gift of property, in\nlieu of the young woman, that she might be free to marry any other man.\nHowever, before it arrived, he had again changed his purpose and kept the\nofferings, but still demanded the damsel. Nevertheless he did not venture\nto return to claim her, so she was left in peace and in the enjoyment of\nsingle blessedness, as no other suitor dared to come forward, the king\nnot having relinquished his claim.\n\nMeanwhile the heathen people of Ono had done all in their power to\npersecute their Christian neighbours, who kept the peace as long as\npossible, but finally were driven to fighting. A civil war lasted for\nseveral weeks, which resulted in the complete defeat of the heathen.\nTo their utter amazement, and contrary to all Fijian precedent, their\nlives were spared, and they were all freely pardoned, a course which\nnaturally inclined them to respect the religion which taught such mercy.\nConsequently when, in 1842, Mr Williams visited Ono, he found that out\nof the 500 inhabitants only three persons were still nominally heathen,\nand these became Christians ere long. He baptised 200 persons, who had\nbeen waiting and longing for his coming. Portions of the New Testament\nand the morning service from the Book of Common Prayer were now printed\nin the Ono dialect, and eagerly sought by the people; and three years\nlater, when Mr Calvert touched at the isle, he found all the population\nin a condition of religious fervour which filled him with thankfulness\nand amazement: the people were so intensely in earnest, and, on the\nwhole, so calm and sensible. It was like a story of the early days of the\nChurch\u2014so wonderful was the flood of light and love that had been poured\non these men and women, in answer to their exceeding longing to know the\nway of truth, and their whole-hearted acceptance of it. Some notes of\ntheir prayers and mutual exhortations, as spoken at the \u201clove-feasts,\u201d\nhave been recorded, and, like many others which have been translated to\nme at different places, breathe such intensity of Christian love and\ndevotion, as we are accustomed to look for only in the lives of great\nsaints. They so rejoice in the radiance of this newly found Light, that\nthey suppose it must flood the whole world on which it has once shone;\nwhile we, conscious of the dim grey faith which most prevails beneath our\ndim grey skies, are more inclined to echo Keble\u2019s sad words\u2014\n\n \u201cAnd of our scholars let us learn\n Our own forgotten lore!\u201d\n\nMany of the Ono men now desired to be allowed to go as teachers to other\nparts of Fiji (of course in peril of their lives). Of these, eight were\nselected, and in the simple prayer with which that meeting closed, the\nTongan teacher, Silas Faone, exclaimed\u2014\u201cThey go; we stay on this small\nisle according to Thy will. _We would all go, Thou knowest_, to make\nknown the good tidings.\u201d At the close of morning service 300 communicants\nknelt together at the Holy Communion; and on the following morning\nall the people assembled on the beach, and again knelt in prayer for\nblessings on the teaching of the eight first missionaries sent forth by\nthe little lonely isle to preach the Gospel of Christ to the vicious\ncannibal tribes throughout the group.\n\nUrgently did these people desire the presence of a resident clergyman\namongst themselves, and for some time the Society endeavoured so to\narrange their districts as to comply with their wish; but as there were\nonly six white missionaries to work in the eighty inhabited isles, it\nwas found impossible to continue this. And thus it was that Joeli Mbulu\ncame to be sent to Ono as a fully ordained minister; and zealously and\nefficiently did he work there, until more urgent need for his presence\nelsewhere compelled his removal to another district.\n\nIt seems to be one of the most serious difficulties in the organising of\nall this great work, that excellent as are many of the native teachers,\nso small a number are found fit to undertake the responsibilities of\nhigher work, such as the arrangement and control of an infant church.\nThey always require the direct guidance of the missionary, and if this\nis long withheld, difficulties almost invariably arise. Such a noble\nexception as dear old Joeli is rare indeed.\n\nIn the last few days I have also made great friends with the Vuni Valu\nand Andi Lytia, and some of her pretty attendants. I fancy the latter\nare remarkable pickles, and up to any amount of mischief in a quiet way,\nbut in awesome terror of the old lady, as also of her daughter. Not that\nthe morality encouraged by these is altogether in accordance with the\nviews professed in civilised countries, especially as regards certain\nfeudal rights of the chiefs; and we occasionally hear of little episodes\nin other parts of the group which prove that the old nature is not\nwholly eradicated, and that some of these courteous high-born dames are\ncapable, under the influence of jealousy, of such diabolical actions as I\ndare not even hint at. Instances like these are, however, happily rare,\nand we must not expect absolute perfection to be a fruit of such very\nrapid growth. I am not quite sure that, if our police reports are to be\ncredited, we have attained to it even in London, after so many centuries\nof all civilising and Christianising influences.\n\nThakombau was in great wrath when we arrived, because a damsel who is\nhis ward had married the chief of Rewa without his sanction. In old\ndays there would have been fierce war in consequence. Now, however, he\nis gradually subsiding, and is much interested about the Fijian mission\nto New Britain. He proposes going himself in his yacht to look up the\nteachers, and take them stores of mats and water-jars; and he invites Mr\nLangham to accompany him, but of course this will not come off. He told\nus of his amazement on beholding so vast a city as Sydney. He said it\ngave him some idea of what heaven must be! We said we wished he could see\nLondon and Westminster Abbey. He replied that he could well imagine that\nthe city of which Sydney was but an offshoot must indeed be of surpassing\ngrandeur. Would he come to London? No; he feared to die at sea and be\nthrown overboard. But we had run that risk to see his isles, and here\nwe were safe. Oh, it was only his age that deterred him; his son might\nperhaps go. While we were sitting with him, his niece arrived in a canoe,\nbringing her own mats and several loaves of bread. She sat down silently\nin a corner; no greeting passed, but her attendant mentioned the object\nof her visit, and the old couple took no further notice of her.\n\nOne of the objects of interest in Bau is a very large canoe which\nThakombau is building for himself, and which will carry a hundred\npersons, and much baggage. You can imagine that making such a canoe as\nthis, with such rude tools as these people possessed formerly, was indeed\na triumph of shipbuilding. First, there is the keel, made of several\npieces of timber strongly joined; then the sides have to be built up\nwithout ribs, but they are closely fitted, and caulked with native cloth\nand a sort of pitch made from the bread-fruit tree; then the pieces are\nstrongly sewed together with sinnet (which is string made of cocoa-nut\nfibre); a large platform is built over the middle of the canoe, and\non this is a deck-house. The whole is balanced by a heavy log of wood\nattached to one side as an outrigger. Some large canoes are double\u2014two\nare placed side by side, and the platform connects them. There are holes\nin the deck through which the sculling-oars are worked, and the helm is\na great steer-oar about twenty feet long with a blade about eighteen\ninches wide. It can be worked from either end of the boat; and the one\ngreat sail is also dragged from end to end with infinite labour, so that\nat every tack bow and stern change parts. Such a canoe flying before the\nwind, and throwing up a fountain of white foam as it rushes through the\nwater, is a very beautiful object, and one which I am never weary of\nwatching. But there are many canoes which dare not approach Bau in this\nbrave style, but have to lower their sail while yet a great way off, and\nscull humbly to the shore. If the canoes come from Somosomo (Taviuni)\nthe scullers dare not even stand, but must squat in token of lowliest\nhumility, shouting the _tama_ (obeisance) from time to time.\n\nIn olden days the building of such a canoe as this would have entailed a\nwhole series of cannibal feasts. First, as rejoicing when the keel was\nlaid down; then feasts for the carpenters as each portion was completed;\nthen living rollers to facilitate launching the canoe\u2014and these, of\ncourse, were cooked and eaten; next, the deck of the canoe must be washed\nwith blood; and finally, a great feast must be provided on the occasion\nof first taking down the mast. Sometimes as many as fifteen men were\nsacrificed for such a banquet. If a new canoe was brought to Bau which\nhad not received its due baptism of blood, the chiefs would attack a\nneighbouring town to secure victims, that its reproach might be taken\naway!\n\nNo fear of any such horrors now. The building of the great canoe\nprogresses slowly, for workmen are now scarce; but the old king sits for\nhours watching it with pleasure, and then, taking advantage of the low\ntide, he tucks up his drapery of _tappa_, and wades almost knee-deep\nthrough the shallow water to the muddy shore of the main island, where he\ngoes to work with his own hands in his yam-gardens,\u2014chiefly to set a good\nexample of honest labour to his people.\n\nLast Sunday Mr Langham took me to see another village, where he was\nto hold service. The morning was lovely\u2014a dead calm and oppressive\nstillness. We had scarcely got home when the sky darkened, and it began\nto pour. Rain was much wanted for the yam crop, but this was decidedly\nin excess. We were to have started for Levuka at daybreak the following\nmorning, but deemed it prudent to defer, as it was evident foul weather\nwas approaching. The students went to the main isle to cut mangroves\nwith which to bind the thatch, and make such preparations as they could.\nDarker and darker grew the sky, heavy grey clouds closed all round the\nhorizon, hiding even the nearest isles. Then down came the rain\u2014such a\ndownpour as I have rarely seen, even in the tropics. Soon the wind rose\nin fitful gusts, howling and moaning. It increased steadily till it was\nactually a small hurricane.[27] Not such an awful one as they sometimes\nhave even here, and not nearly so bad as a West Indian one, but by\nfar the worst I have ever seen. It blew furiously all night, and one\nmarvelled how any trees stood it\u2014the palms were tossed about like mad\nthings. Of course every blossom in the garden was gone. Even inside the\ncoral-reef the sea was thundering in great crested waves. In the middle\nof the night the roof of my room began to leak so freely, that we thought\nthe whole thatch would blow off, so Mr Langham rang a great bell, and all\nthe young men, students at the mission, came up and swarmed over the\nroof and bound it with planks and long mangrove wands.\n\nIn the morning the storm partially subsided, and as soon as any one could\nstand, the king\u2019s fat handsome daughter came up herself to get some milk\nfor his breakfast. Her simple attire consisted of a bath-towel worn round\nthe waist and a pocket-handkerchief tied across the capacious bosom,\nbelow the arms! The king _has_ a cow of his own, but rarely contrives to\nget any milk; so he generally sends up to the Langhams for either a jug\nof milk or of ready-made tea with bread and butter!\n\nBy evening the weather was quite settled, and there was a great calm;\nso, as Mr Langham had business to do in Levuka, he decided to start next\nmorning. He kindly chartered a canoe to carry my precious collection\nof clubs, spears, and bowls; it started at midnight, and at 3.30 A.M.\nMrs L. came herself to call me. She gave us a comfortable breakfast by\nlamp-light. Then the boatmen, according to invariable custom, came in to\n_lotu_ (family prayers), and with the first glimmer of dawn we started\ndown the green hill, and found dear old Joeli waiting to speed us on our\nway. What a contrast to a cheerless start for the train on a January\nmorning in England!\n\nWe sailed before sunrise, and about 9 A.M. reached a pretty small island\ncalled Thangalei, where we breakfasted under the shadow of a magnificent\nMbaka tree, whose many-pillared stem formed a large enclosure, which some\nvery utilitarian person had converted into a pig-sty!\n\nWe started again as soon as possible, but there was no wind all day, and\nrowing a heavy boat is slow work, and so it came to pass that we missed\nthe tide and could not get inside the reef at the passage. We therefore\nhad to row outside in the open sea, keeping at a safe distance from the\ngreat, grand, awful breakers which fell with such appalling force and\nthunderous roar on the massive coral barrier, tossing vast volumes of\nwhite spray high in mid-air, and concealing from us all the land except\nthe mountain-tops. It was very unpleasant, for though the sea was calm,\nit had not quite forgotten its recent battle with the winds, and heaved\nin great swelling rollers, which would have swept us on to the reef had\nnot the men pulled hard. At last we came to a very narrow passage, by\nwhich we entered the calm shallow water; but it was an anxious moment,\nfor there was only just room for the boat to pass, and as the huge walls\nof green water towered up on either side and fell in cataracts of foam,\nit seemed as though they must swallow us up. The men pulled steadily\nand strong, but it was an intense relief when we glided safely into the\npeaceful blue water of that quiet haven, and an hour later reached the\npier at Nasova, where I found all the party reassembled. They had come\nback from Suva in H.M.S. Nymphe, with Captain Grant Suttie, just before\nthe gale on Monday night.\n\nGreat was the excitement of unpacking my canoe-load of curiosities; for\nwe are each trying who can make the very best collection\u2014Sir Arthur, Mr\nGordon, Captain Knollys, Mr Maudslay, Baron von H\u00fcgel, and myself. Our\ndaily delight is to ransack the stores in Levuka, where the natives may\nhave bartered old things for new, and great is the triumph of whoever\nsucceeds in capturing some new form of bowl or quaint bit of carving. All\nour rooms are like museums, adorned with savage implements, and draped\nwith native cloth of beautifully rich patterns, all hand-painted. The\nhouse has made great progress in our absence. The large new drawing-room,\nbuilt entirely of wood, is really a very fine room, and has two large\nbow-windows, besides the usual multitude of glass doors opening on to\nthe verandah. The garden, too, begins to reward Abbey\u2019s care, and looks\nquite bright; and he is diligently striving to make a small lawn, which,\nhowever, is very difficult work. You really would say so if you saw the\nlabour-boys patiently snipping the grass with old scissors!\n\nI have just been doing a round of visits to my especial friends, Mrs\nHavelock, Mrs Macgregor, Mrs D. Ricci, and the Layards. It seems as if I\nhad been away for months; it is so pleasant coming back to such cordial\nwelcome from them all. Captain Havelock took me to call on Mr Leefe, who\nis in Levuka for surgical treatment, his hand having been lacerated in\na fibre-crushing machine. It was fearful agony, and he must have had a\ndreadful journey coming here by himself. It was impossible for his wife\nto accompany him, as all their live stock would inevitably have been left\nto die of neglect in her absence.\n\nYesterday another of the Engineers died (his wife and children are on\ntheir way from England). This morning at sunrise the military funeral\nmarched sadly past this house, with the Union-jack for a pall, and a\nparty of sailors from H.M.S. Nymphe, with fife and drum. Several men fell\nout, overcome by the heat, which is simply grilling.\n\nSome officers from an American man-of-war have just come to call, so I\nmay as well close this letter.\u2014Your loving sister.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\n\n LIFE AT NASOVA\u2014FARMYARD\u2014CONVICT THATCHERS\u2014NATIVE FESTIVAL AT\n BAU\u2014RETURN TO NASOVA\u2014BATTLES WITH CRABS\u2014BEGINNING OF CANNIBAL\n DISTURBANCE\u2014FIJIAN FAIRIES\u2014A STORM.\n\n\n NASOVA, FIJI, _March 1, 1876_.\n\nDEAR AUNT EMMA,\u2014I have not yet written once direct to you, but I trust\nyou nevertheless consider yourself bound to write to me; for you cannot\nrealise how greatly we prize all home letters out here, and how we do\nwatch for the mails. We have been so watching now for upwards of a week,\nthe mail being long overdue, and a hundred times a-day we look up to see\nif no faint line of smoke on the horizon tells of its approach; and when\nit does come in with a whole month\u2019s European news, can you not fancy\nwhat an anxious minute the opening of the mail-bag is? If only people\nat home could realise the delight their letters are to wanderers in far\nlands, I think they would surely write more regularly.\n\nI wish I could look in at you all, just for a good chat, but I should\nwish to carry with me a flood of sunshine, and this calm blessed sea,\nfor I fear London is hardly as pretty to-day as Fiji; and whatever\ndisadvantages this place possesses, it certainly has no lack of beauty.\nAt present, however, it is terribly isolated\u2014a small steamer to New\nZealand being our only direct communication with the outer world, the\nAustralian boats having deliberately dropped us, declaring that we don\u2019t\npay! However, for the last three months the great steamers running\nbetween San Francisco, New Zealand, and Australia have touched at\nKhandavu, our outermost isle, bringing and taking mails and passengers;\nbut they are fighting hard to get off doing so, and only do it at all\nbecause their agent signed a contract which they find they cannot at\npresent legally break.\n\n_March 7._\u2014I began this letter a week ago, when we were waiting and\nwatching for the mail. At last, when we were beginning to fear our little\nsteamer had gone to the bottom, she returned with a few Australian\nletters, but the aggravating steamer from San Francisco never touched\nKhandavu at all; so all our English letters and papers have gone to New\nZealand, and we shall not see them for six weeks. So much for being a\npoor colony, which cannot afford to build proper lighthouses. And poor\nit is with a vengeance. You cannot imagine anything more so. The whole\nwhite community are only just above starvation-point, and yet everything\nis very expensive.\n\nI cannot give you a better proof of the general poverty than the fact\nthat scarcely any one in Levuka (the capital) owns a boat\u2014the only\nother means of locomotion being to tramp on weary feet along the vilest\nof shingly footpaths. Even the officials\u2014the Colonial Secretary and\nAuditor-General\u2014have none. The Judge (Sir William Hackett) and the\nAttorney-General (Mr de Ricci) have a rickety old tub between them, which\nthey either pull themselves, or man with two labour-boys, each great arm\nof the law supplying one! Of course the Governor has his own boat, in\nwhich Lady Gordon goes for a small row two or three times a-week; but\nit takes six of the native police to man it, and they are not always\navailable. Moreover, it is such a good boat that there are very few\nplaces where it can ever be allowed to touch; and above all, it must keep\na very respectful distance from the beautiful coral-reefs and patches,\nwhich are to me the chief delight of this place. I always envy the native\nwomen, who are for ever playing, and fishing, and finding wonderful\ntreasures on the reef, but here the whites do not understand the interest\nof such pursuits. So my enjoyment of the reef consists in looking down on\nit from the hill above us, and lovely indeed it is.\n\nJust behind the house is a steep glen, with a rocky wee burn, overhung\nwith good large trees, and these are matted with ferns and creepers. It\nis not a very fine piece of tropical scenery, but it is my own, in the\nsense that no one else ever takes the trouble to climb up. So there are\nfew days that I do not scramble up to some pleasant perch among the grey\nboulders, whence I can look down through the fringe and frame of green\nleaves to the lovely blue sea, with the band of rainbow light that marks\nthe coral-reef. I am writing there just now, in a cleft between two great\nrocks, and right glad to escape from the sound of many voices down at\nthe house. For one of the aggravations of house-building out here (as\nin tropical countries generally) is, that to improve ventilation, the\npartitions between rooms always stop short of the ceiling. Consequently\nevery word spoken in one is heard in all the others, to the great\naggravation of the unwilling listener. How the gentlemen can concentrate\ntheir minds sufficiently to write business letters in their very noisy\nquarters, with people of all colours perpetually coming and going, is\nto me a standing mystery; and the annoyance is further aggravated by\nthe fact that, in these one-storeyed houses, all rooms must of course\nbe on the ground-floor, and all windows are shutterless glass doors,\nopening on to a public verandah; and you have to choose between sitting\nwith several doors wide open to all comers, or stifling for lack of air\nby closing them. Certainly no one in Fiji can say that his house or\nhis room is his castle, where he may rest undisturbed. I think, of all\ndelights of a British house, there is none which we all shall henceforth\nprize more thankfully than the privilege of sitting at our own windows\nup stairs with closed doors. I am bound to say, however, that I am far\nbetter off than any one else in the house in this respect, having a very\ncosy nest in the new wing. But being next the nursery, the system of\nopen roof makes the rooms virtually one; and though the two children,\nJack and Nevil, are the very clearest and best of little chicks, and\ntheir Welsh nurse and Portuguese nursery-maid are likewise excellent, it\ndoes sometimes suggest itself that silence would be preferable. So then\nI creep up my glen and have an hour or two, with only the blue and gold\nlizards as companions.\n\nHappily in Fiji we have really no noxious creatures except mosquitoes\n(and they do swarm). But the houses are full of cockroaches, which\neat everything\u2014boots, shoes, clothes, &c.\u2014and what they spare the\nmildew destroys. My drawing-paper is already spoilt, and our dresses\nand boots are green with mildew every morning. So are our collections\nof spears, clubs, and bowls, which require daily rubbing with oil.\nAnother foe is a lovely white cockatoo, which has a special fancy for\neating the best table-cloths and the gentlemen\u2019s dress-clothes! We have\na good many parrots about the place, more or less tame, which will\ncome and perch on the tea-cups, upsetting more than they drink; and\nthere are tame kingfishers, which eat the cockroaches (in which useful\nart they are assisted by huge spiders, which we love and cherish). A\npair of laughing-jackasses walk about the apology for a garden, and\njeer at everything; and sometimes they and the pigeons come into the\ndrawing-room, and have to be driven out; and all farmyard creatures,\ncarefully reared by Abbey since our arrival, roam about on every\nside,\u2014cows, sheep, turkeys, geese, and fowls; and don\u2019t they all cackle\nand gobble! You see there is so very little available ground for anything\nhere on this rocky island, that everything is huddled up into no space at\nall. A very pet dog, with her puppies of two generations, complete the\nfamily.\n\nWe are getting tolerably cosy at last; but it has been a slow\nprocess,\u2014and it is little more than a month since we were able to take\npossession of the three new rooms which Sir Arthur has added to the old\nhouse\u2014namely, a large drawing-room, a nursery, and bedroom, which last\nwas built for Lady Gordon; but as she prefers remaining in the old house,\nit falls to my share. It is a simple wooden house; but so expensive is\nevery detail of work here, that I believe it has cost Sir Arthur upwards\nof \u00a31000; and as he refunds more than a third of his nominal salary as\nGovernor to this wellnigh empty treasury, it follows that the post is by\nno means a lucrative one. Our new rooms are very nice; but in the wish\nto make the building less hideous than other houses here, Sir Arthur\nindulged in gable-ends, which, we are told, will probably result in our\nbeing left roofless the night of the first hurricane,\u2014for which the\nweather prophets look about three weeks hence.\n\nThey tell us that this intense heat will last about six weeks longer,\nwhen, the rainy season being over, we may expect a long spell of\nbeautiful weather. Meanwhile we only have occasional rain\u2014very heavy when\nit does fall.\n\nIt was suddenly discovered that the roof of this old house (only four\nyears old) was quite rotten\u2014the thatch, I mean. So one hundred men were\ncollected to repair it; and they are now crawling all over the roof like\na swarm of ants, or else passing down the hill in long lines, bearing\nhuge burdens of tall grass, ten feet high, with great white plumes of\nsilky blossom. It is a very picturesque scene; but as they have been at\nit for about three weeks (and indeed there are always a tribe of workmen\nat some corner of the place, if not everywhere), we begin to wish they\nhad finished, especially as many of them are unhappy-looking prisoners.\nOne is a murderer, working in heavy chains; and though he looks very\nhappy, generally climbing nimbly about the roof, notwithstanding this\nheavy weight, it makes me hot and miserable to see him. He was found\nguilty of the murder of a planter of the name of Burns, and his wife. It\nwas a frightful story. I do not know why he was not hanged. He is working\nin chains because he has already escaped once and been recaptured; but\nfrom his extreme activity, I should think his fetters might prove a very\nslight impediment should he resolve to try his luck again. Another large\nbody of men are working at the rough ground behind the house, turning it\ninto a little garden. Already it is taking shape, and will doubtless be\nvery nice by the time the capital is moved to another island, when it\nwill probably be left to its fate. Sir Arthur is very anxious to effect\nthis move, which undoubtedly will, in the long-run, prove a wise step;\nbut in the meantime it will, of course, entail various hardships on many\nof these already hard-struggling people. But I daresay it will be a good\nwhile before anything is done about it. Everything here is very slow\nwork, and the inhabitants have sore need of patience.\n\nIt is pleasant to turn from the many cares and sorrows of the whites\nto the cheerier dark side of the picture; for the Fijians are always\nlaughing, and seem always ready to sing and dance. Certainly they, too,\nare wretchedly poor; but they need very little, and are well off, where a\nwhite man would starve.\n\n_March 10._\u2014I have just returned from a most delightful expedition,\nthanks, as usual, to the Wesleyan missionaries, to whose kind help I\nreally am indebted for all I have yet seen of native life. Last week I\nhad a letter from Andi Kuilla\u2014_i.e._, Lady Flag\u2014daughter of Thakombau,\nasking me to go and stay with her at Bau, the native capital, to be\npresent at a grand gathering of the chiefs, when all their most striking\nBau dances would be performed at the great annual missionary meeting. It\nis the custom here for every district to hold an annual social gathering,\nto which all the people bring their contributions for the funds of the\nmission. These they generally carry in their mouth for safety, and spit\nthem on to a mat at the feet of the missionary. The advantage of this\nself-acting purse to men who have no pockets, and whose hands carry\nclubs or fans, is evident. Then they go off in grand procession and have\na dance, which combines ballet with pantomime, all the dancers being\ndressed up in the most startling varieties of Fijian style. Paint of all\ncolours; garlands of every sort of material, for every limb except the\nhead, which is adorned with its own magnificent halo of spiral goldeny\ncurls\u2014tiny ones\u2014the hair standing straight out from the head; it is\ndotted with one or two blossoms or sprigs of grass, coquettishly stuck in.\n\nWell, this invitation was most tempting, but there seemed at first no\nmeans of accepting it\u2014no boat was to be had, and no escort. At last,\nin despair, I went off to ask a nice English girl, who talks perfect\nFijian, if she would venture on coming alone with me (twenty-five miles\nin an open boat, supposing I could hire one). She agreed, and we went\ntogether to consult Mr Wylie, the missionary here. He at once solved all\ndifficulties, and sent his own good boat for us at daybreak, in charge of\na native teacher, who, he said, was only waiting for an opportunity to\ngo to Bau. At the last moment, Captain Havelock, the Colonial Secretary,\nfound he could manage to allow himself a holiday\u2014the very first since\nhis arrival. So we started most happily. We had a lovely day for our long\nrow (no wind for sailing, however); halted for luncheon at a small sandy\nisland covered with cocoa-palms, and rested under a splendid Mbaka tree\n(Fijian banyan); then on again, and reached Bau at sunset. It is a tiny\nisland just off the mainland.\n\nWe found kind Mr Langham waiting at the pier to welcome us and offer us\ncomfortable quarters, as a Fijian house is not good for sleep on such\noccasions. It seemed to me the dancing was going on more or less for\nthirty-six hours, counting from the moment of our arrival, when a most\npicturesque rehearsal was going on in the bright moonlight! Of course\nthere had been innumerable previous ones; for the figures are most\nelaborate, the movements very varied and like a complicated ballet in\nwhich every dancer (perhaps two hundred at once) must move in faultless\ntime.\n\nAs we came up to Thakombau\u2019s quarters a hundred and fifty ladies of Bau\nwere beginning their dance, each carrying a paddle of polished wood,\nwhich they waved and turned with simultaneous action. The general effect\nwas most stately. (I should have said ladies and their attendants, for\nnowhere is all etiquette of rank and birth so rigidly cared for. All\nrank comes through the mother.) The dancers were led by Andi Lytia and\nAndi Kuilla, the ex-queen and her daughter. Both are very tall and\nstout,\u2014really fine stately women. No high-bred English duchess could\ncarry herself more nobly than these born ladies leading their Tongan\nminuet. One of the sons has just married a Tongan princess, a very pretty\nwoman.\n\nHitherto I had only seen them in the undress of their homes, with a white\nwaist-cloth, and sometimes a tiny pinafore only just covering the breast.\nEven then no one could fail to be struck with their true dignity. It is\njust the same with the men\u2014the fine old chief and his handsome sons. It\nis quite impossible to look at these people now and realise the appalling\nscenes in which at least the older ones have so often joined. Now the\nladies were in full dress, consisting of a waist-cloth of very rare black\n_tappa_, tiny jackets of white silk edged with lace, and no ornament\nwhatever save a small English locket, and a small tuft of scarlet flowers\nin their halo of hair\u2014that of the old queen is quite grey. They both\nlooked really handsome.\n\nNext day crowds of canoes kept arriving from every neighbouring island,\nand dancing and feasting went on all day. The grand _m\u00e9k\u00e9s_ came off\nin the afternoon, but many of the occasional ones were quite as\npretty. Each district has dances peculiar to itself. Here there was\nnot one spear-dance,\u2014all clubs or fans. The men on these occasions are\ngenerally so painted and dressed up that you cannot recognise your\ndearest friend; and we were quite puzzled by the king\u2019s handsome sons,\nRatu Joe and Ratu Timothy, appearing, one scarlet the other black, down\nto the waist. But we were chiefly puzzled and attracted by one very\nfine fellow, all painted black, with a huge wreath and neck-garland of\nscarlet hybiscus and green leaves, and rattling garters made of many\nhanging strings of large cockle-shells, and the usual _liku_ (a sort\nof kilt or waist-drapery) of fringes of coloured _pandanus_ leaves, or\nfresh ferns, &c. Of course he carried a club, and was barefooted. This\nman distinguished himself greatly, and afterwards acted the part of a\nhuge dog in a dance where all the children appeared on all-fours as cats\n(\u201cpussies\u201d). Eventually we discovered him to be a European known as Jack\nCassell.\n\nOne very pretty girl, Andi Karlotta, who is engaged to Ratu Joe, wore a\nrose-coloured bodice and _sulu_, and a tinge of red sprinkled over her\nhair, all to match. Very often now the girls wear streamers of English\nribbon; but these Bau ladies hold their heads very high, and decided\nthat, as girls on the mainland had adopted ribbon, they would _tambu_ it;\nso only a little lace-edging was allowed. In addition to the actual kilt,\nmany of the men wear innumerable loops and folds, and even a trailing\ntrain, of white _tappa_, the effect of which is graceful. Some wore a\nheaddress made of very delicate bands of it, from the forehead to the\nback of the neck, looking like tiny white wreaths; others wore a kind of\nturban of smoke-dried gauze, and large beautiful breast-plates of pearly\nshell inlaid with ivory.\n\nJust when the principal _m\u00e9k\u00e9s_ were over, a tremendous shower came on;\nhappily not till the people had gone home to feast. Later it cleared up,\nand they danced the whole night in the moonlight, though the rain had\nconverted half the grass into a lake. But as they had no satin shoes to\nthink about, they danced right through it, and seemed very happy. Their\ncommonest figure is a great double circle, working opposite ways, the\norchestra standing in the middle, singing and beating time with bamboos;\nand sometimes they dance off like a very curly letter S to join another\ndouble circle.\n\nWe sat up watching them from the mission garden till past 1 A.M.; for\nthough we were all tired, there was a solemn conference going on at the\nhouse, the neighbouring brethren having all assembled to sit in judgment\non the alleged delinquencies of a native minister. So, as their wives did\nnot know whether they were to go home that night or not, all they could\ndo was to lay their small children down to sleep in every corner. Finally\none family departed, with two little ones, to row to a neighbouring isle\nand then carry the children a mile through the forest\u2014one fair little\nthing carried by a Fijian child not much bigger than itself,\u2014such a\nbright intelligent little monkey.\n\nWhen we awoke next morning the dancers were still in full swing; but soon\nafter sunrise all departed in their canoes, singing as they sailed away,\nand all declaring it had been a very pleasant time.\n\nWe foolishly allowed ourselves to be detained till towards noon, trusting\nto our host\u2019s practice in catching tides (for only at certain hours can\nyou cross the coral-reefs, and that only at certain points, miles apart).\nBut a head-wind set in and made a nasty wobbly sea. Our men were not very\nfresh, and when we neared the isle where we had lunched on our way, we\nfound we had lost the tide and had to row a long way round outside the\nreef, and then come in by a passage so very narrow that it was difficult\nto discern it in the very fitful moonlight. It was an anxious moment\npassing between the two great lines of breakers which mark the edge\nof every reef. Once inside, the danger is only of running aground on\ncoral-patches.\n\nIt was nearly 9 P.M. before we reached a small island where we were\ncarried ashore and had supper on the sands under the palm-trees while our\nmen rested. It was pleasant sitting in the moonlight, but when we had\nre-embarked very heavy rain came on; however, we had good waterproofs,\nand our men had a good coating of fresh oil, so it did no harm. It was\nclear moonlight when at last, at 1 A.M., we reached the pier, whereon\nlay sleeping a row of labour-boys, who had chosen this _al fresco_\nbedroom for the sake of the breeze. They are the servants from other\nisles, who work harder than Fijians. Fijians make most graceful table\nservants and good police. They look on their drill as a sort of _m\u00e9k\u00e9_,\nbut they utterly abhor all hard work. So half the isles of the South\nPacific are represented in the household. We woke the boys and got our\nthings carried up to the house, crept up the verandah to my room without\ndisturbing anybody, rigged up our mosquito-curtains, and had no further\nadventures save two battles with land-crabs, which came in and walked\nabout clattering their claws against the woodwork, so that they had to be\nturned out. (I clubbed one one night in my anguish lest he should nip\nmy toes, but the result was so horribly nasty, that now I always catch\nthem and carry them down to the little stream hard by, to prevent their\ncoming back)\u2014rather an aggravating episode to occur twice in a night\nwhen you are very tired; and before I was well asleep again, a pathetic\nlittle cry came from the nursery, \u201cOh, I am so sick, and nurse has gone\nto bathe!\u201d So I had to fly to the rescue, to find dear little Jack on the\nsick-list. He is better to-day, but the climate is a very trying one for\nchildren\u2014debilitating, though not positively unhealthy.\n\nWe have had intense heat and damp, but I think it is over now, and we\nhave a sweet breeze, so long as we can sit in it; but unfortunately it\ndoes not reach rooms round the corner, so some are always hot. However,\nthanks to moving about a good deal for change of air, we all keep very\nfairly well.\n\nThough our household party is nominally a large one, two or three are\ngenerally absent. Captain Knollys and Mr Gordon have just returned from\nan expedition to the camp up in the mountains, in the heart of the\ndisaffected district, among the wild big-heads, the Kai Tholos, or people\nof the mountains. Captain Olive was sent up there some time ago with a\nstrong force of native police (very fine men, and he glories in them,\nand lives like them and with them). He made a regular fortified camp,\non a plain in the heart of the mountains, and at first the mountaineers\nthought he certainly meant war; but by degrees they are getting tamer,\nand the one tribe which is most seriously antagonistic has been vainly\ntrying to persuade others to back it up, and they have refused; so now\nwe hope all fear of fighting is over. But it was necessary to send up\nsome more armed men as a reinforcement, and a great mass of stuff for\nbarter; so these two went in charge of it, and have brought us back very\ninteresting sketches of places and people. Mr Gordon is a real artist,\nand his sketches are very clever.\n\nUp in the mountains the people are still heathen, and the dress is yet\nprimitive. For full dress, women wear a fringe of grass four inches long.\nThe men of the mountains when fully dressed wear a strip of _tappa_ tied\nin a very large bow, and trailing train. Their heads are gigantic, about\neighteen inches in diameter, and some much larger; the stiff hair being\nvery long and bent back in large bunches, makes it grow inward among the\nroots: of course it is rarely, if ever, dressed, and forms magnificent\ncover! As the inmates are apt to tickle, every big-head wears a long pin\nstuck through the hair to scratch with, and when the irritation becomes\nunbearable, he kindles a fire of banana-leaves, and, placing his wooden\nneck-pillow close to it, gets his head thoroughly smoked.\n\nThese wooden neck-pillows occupy a prominent position in the annals of\nthe Fijian police-courts. They are handy weapons; and a bolstering match\nin which they figure is apt to be a serious one. They are a great check\non aggravating curtain-lectures, and are used everywhere all over the\nisles. Most pillows are a stick about one inch in diameter, resting on\ntwo legs.\n\nThese Kai Tholos (Highlanders) have many legends and fairy tales which,\nunfortunately, no one who has really mastered the language can find time\nto collect. One is, that the great _dakua_ or _kaurie_ pine-forests are\nhaunted by tiny men called _V\u00e9l\u00e9_, with high conical heads. They carry\nsmall hand-clubs, which they throw at all trespassers, who go mad in\nconsequence; but (mark the coincidence with German fairy tales) if you\nhave the wit to carry in your hand a fern-leaf, they are powerless, and\nfall at your feet, crying, \u201cSpare me.\u201d Once they all fell in love with a\npretty human girl who strayed into the forest. They were so charmed with\nher that they kept her there a year before she managed to escape.\n\nI find that Mr Williams, one of the earlier missionaries, took some notes\non this subject. He says:\u2014\n\n\u201cThe Fijian peoples with invisible beings every remarkable spot: the\nlonely dell, the gloomy cave, the desolate rock, and the deep forest.\nMany of these, he believes, are on the alert to do him harm; therefore,\nin passing their territory, he throws down a few green leaves to\npropitiate the demon of the place. Among the principal objects of Fijian\nsuperstition are demons, ghosts, witches, wizards, fairies, evil-eyes,\nseers, and priests, all of whom he believes to possess supernatural\npower. A very old Fijian used to talk to me of \u2018those little gods,\u2019 with\na faith as strong as that of a Highlander in his fairies. And these\n\u2018little gods\u2019 are the fairies of Fiji. \u2018When living near the Kauvandra\nmountains, I often used to hear them sing,\u2019 said the old man; and\nhis eyes brightened as he went on to tell how they would assemble in\ntroops on the tops of the mountains and sing unweariedly. They were all\nlittle\u2014\u2018like little children. I have often seen them and listened to\ntheir songs.\u2019 These are the mountain fairies. There are other \u2018little\ngods,\u2019 called _luve-ni-wai_, children of the waters. My list contains\nmore than fifty of their names, but I believe it is incomplete. They are\nrepresented as wild and fearful, and at certain festivals they visit\ntheir worshippers, who for several successive weeks assemble morning and\nevening to allure them by drumming with short bamboos. Little flags are\nplaced at various inland passes to prevent these water-gods from passing\non to the forests; so they halt at an enclosure where offerings have\nbeen prepared for them, and there the worshippers seat themselves and\nbeat their bamboos, and others dance in most fantastic style, while one,\ncalled the _Linga Viu_, or shade-holder, dances in a circle all round the\nothers, waving a sunshade which he alone is privileged to carry.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is a warlock, called _Ndrudru Sambo_, who is very tall, and of\na grey colour, with a wide flat head; he breathes hard, and makes a\nclattering noise as he moves. He steals fish from the fishermen, and\ndainty bits of food wherever he finds them. If touched with a spear he\ninstantly takes the form of a rat.\u201d\n\nI find that is all I can learn of the fairies at present. Possibly the\nreward of \u00a3100, offered at Max M\u00fcller\u2019s instigation, for a collection\nof such lore, may induce some one to find time to make one before it\nall dies out, as it invariably does when the people become civilised or\nChristianised and ashamed of old superstitions. Then good and bad all\npass away together. But I must say the missionaries in Fiji have shown\nsuperlative common-sense in their method of dealing with native customs,\ndiscriminating between the innocent and the evil.\n\nWe are especially grateful to the Kai Tholos for proving that\nChristianity has no connection with broadcloth, and in every way\ndiscouraging the adoption of European garments. I have only seen one man\nfoolish enough to appear in such\u2014a native minister\u2014and I rejoiced to hear\nhis superiors indulging in gentle sarcasm, which would certainly have\nits effect. But in some neighbouring groups\u2014Tonga for instance, where\nthe people are even a finer race than these\u2014everything native is dying\nout. To encourage the import of foreign goods, the people are _forbidden\nby law to make or wear native cloth_, and they are encouraged to make\nthemselves objects of ridicule by adopting European dress. Imagine\nParisian bonnets and absurd hats on these picturesque heads. This is\nthe last news from Tonga just brought by H.M.S. Nymphe (Captain Grant\nSuttie), which went there to take Mr Layard, Consul of Tonga, on official\nduty. The cruise was delightful, but with some shadows. One officer, Mr\nGrey, died quite suddenly; the armourer also died, but he was very ill\nbefore they started.\n\nMr Gordon has gone off to-day to try and make an amicable temporary\narrangement between some natives and a white settler, who all claim the\nsame land. So the former spear the cattle of the latter and drive them\ndown into the sea. The wretched beasts are dying of starvation; and as\nit may be a couple of years before the Lands Commission can decide on\nthe ownership of the innumerable estates claimed by hundreds of people,\nthe white man\u2019s wife came here to crave some temporary interference. She\nwore a white dress and white lace, her hair in beautiful long ringlets, a\nlarge hat and feather, and is very interesting to look upon. I hear she\nis a splendid musician, and something of an artist. She is an Austrian\nlady who had money of her own, which her husband has invested in this\ncharming way. I should think plantation life in Fiji was hard enough in\nany case; but when you come to being at logger-heads with the natives, it\nmust be odious indeed.\n\nNow I think I have given you a long enough screed. I am sure dear old\nLady Ruthven will like to hear \u201cA letter from Fiji.\u201d Please give her my\nkindest love.\n\n_March 16._\u2014After all, our letters have never gone. The weather was so\nbad that it was impossible to finish necessary repairs to the Government\nsteamer (which recently discovered a new coral-reef, greatly to her own\ndiscomfiture). The glass is falling steadily, and there is every symptom\nof an approaching hurricane, which will probably carry away our whole\nroof if it proves severe. Nor is this our only danger. This morning when\ndaylight broke we found that my dear little burn in the rocky glen had\nswollen to an angry mountain torrent, and was tearing along, making new\nlittle streams and waterfalls in every direction\u2014one right across the\nverandah. A squad of men have been working at a dike all the afternoon;\nbut as it has rained steadily all day, and the bed of the stream is not\nten feet from the drawing-room and nursery windows, we fully expect\nto be washed out to-night. So the drawing-room and my room have been\nentirely dismantled, and present a hideous sight of blank bare floors and\npacking-cases!\n\nAs for the poor little attempt at a garden, young rivers are careering\nall over it. As yet our only flowers are balsams, raised from seed, not\nvery interesting flowers, but our only treasures in this flowerless\nregion. But really, what pleasure is there in making anything nice in\nsuch a country? I thought I would have my room very dandy, so I invested\nin a pair of tall vases to stand on carved brackets and hold ferns and\ngrasses. Almost the first day I put them up, one sudden gust of wind blew\nthem both over, and I found only fragments!\n\nThe Governor has just come to despatch the gentlemen to dig out Mrs\nMacgregor, the doctor\u2019s wife, who is being buried by a mud avalanche,\nand her husband is far too busy with his sick folk to look after her.\nThe hospital is quite full, and he has out-patients in all directions.\nWe certainly heard very false accounts of the healthiness of this place,\nespecially the utter absence of sunstroke. At least three deaths have\nbeen due to it since we came. One victim was a Fijian, who dropped\ndown dead at his work on Saturday; the other two were Engineers; and\na labour-boy dropped down dead yesterday, but I do not know from what\ncause. A third Engineer died and was buried yesterday. They only landed\nhere in September, and out of their corps of sixty men three have died,\nand many are on the sick-list. Just imagine that they have never yet got\ntheir sun-hats, or any white clothing, though this is by far the hottest\nplace any of us have ever been in!\n\nThe cemetery lies on a hill beyond us, and it is so sad seeing all the\nfunerals pass. The last was that of a poor American sailor, who died in\nhospital, and four labour-boys trotted past, carrying him with no more\nceremony than if the coffin had been an old packing-case.\n\nWe have just had two interesting domestic events in the middle of the\nstorm. The first was the arrival of a fine litter of young pigs, who\nchose this very awkward moment for their appearance. The other was the\nruthless destruction of a cherished nest, just in front of the nursery\nwindow, where a Muscovy duck had made her home at the root of an old\ntree overhanging the water. We watched a sudden rush carry away her\nsupporting-bank, and the poor thing looked up in despair, as, one after\nanother, her eggs rolled into the stream. A Fijian rushed to the rescue\nup to his waist in water, saved the last six, and carried them and her\noff to the kitchen for safety, but she declines to sit on the surviving\neggs.\n\nA fresh access of storm. My door has just blown violently open. We are\nputting up hurricane-bars, and expect to have an anxious night. The new\nroof of the old house is leaking all over.\n\n_March 17._\u2014We have had a night of it, but as yet no hurricane. However,\nold hands tell us we cannot hope we are through the wood for ten days to\ncome, after which we may count on six months of pleasant weather. The\nrainfall yesterday was 4\u00bd inches, and all night the wind blew savagely;\nbut the roof was very slightly damaged, and the stream kept in its proper\nchannel. No harm was done, save that the boat-house was blown down.\nLuckily all the boats had been dragged up to the verandah for security.\n\nLast night at sunset we were watching a poor little cutter trying to\nbeat in at the passage through the coral-reef. Then we lost sight of\nher in the utter darkness. This morning we hear she did reach a passage\nfarther along the coast, but struck the reef and went down like a shot.\nThe men got to shore, but she and her hard-earned cargo are lost. Her\nstory may interest you. She was the private property of a tribe near\nKhandavu, who had the sense to see the advantages of owning a ship for\nthemselves. About eighty of the tribe bound themselves to work for three\nyears on plantations in order to pay off her price; and their long\nservice has only just expired. So you see it is a serious loss to these\npoor folk.\n\n_March 18._\u2014After a storm a calm. To-day is a dead calm\u2014not a ripple on\nthe sea. We do not know whether it is merely a case of _reculer pour\nmieux sauter_; but at all events, a vessel is to be despatched to-night\nto Khandavu on the chance of still being in time to catch the mail _vi\u00e2_\nTorres Straits. Anyhow, we hope we shall get some English letters, unless\nthe storm blew the mail-steamers past us. We are rather anxious about\nBaron von H\u00fcgel, as he has for months been wandering about the mountains\nalone with natives, and a fortnight ago wrote that he was very ill. We\nexpected him by the steamer to-day, but have no word of him.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\n\n GOVERNMENT HOUSE\u2014PETS\u2014CURIOS\u2014CRABS\u2014NATIVE POLICE\u2014DEATH OF MRS\n DE RICCI.\n\n\n NASOVA, _March 23, 1876_.\n\nDEAR NELL,\u2014We seem to have settled down to a quietly regular home-life,\nwhich really is very pleasant. When I think of the vile March winds which\nyou are now enduring, and contrast them with our lovely mornings and\nevenings, when every breath is balm, I have only one exceeding longing,\nwhich is that you were here to share their luxury. Now that everything\nis well established, the house moves like a clock, of which Abbey and\nhis wife are the mainspring. They have trained a set of Fijians to wait\nat table really admirably; they move gracefully and quickly, and look\nexceedingly handsome in a uniform Lady Gordon has devised. Simply a\nwhite kilt and shirt, trimmed with crimson, with short sleeves and\nsquare-cut neck, to show a large boar\u2019s tooth against the clear brown\nthroat. Then Sir Arthur has imported a Hindoo cook, and two excellent\nHindoo valets, who are also upper housemaids. The rest of the household\nincludes labour-boys of every colour and nation. We adhere to regular\nEnglish hours\u2014that is to say, coffee is brought to our rooms at seven\nA.M., and breakfast follows about nine; luncheon at one, tea at five,\ndinner soon after seven. There is no particular reason for having it\nlater, as it is always dark by six.\n\nI must tell you of one triumph of common-sense in the adoption, by Sir\nArthur and all his staff, of what we call the Nasova uniform\u2014namely,\ndispensing with the misery of a coat, and substituting a bright-coloured\nsilken waist-sash for braces: now all the gentlemen look fresh and\ncool. It is a very sad evening when first a new man-of-war comes in,\nespecially one of some foreign nation, and the presence of punctilious\nstrangers involves full dress. But as soon as ever friendly relations are\nestablished, they, too, are privileged to adopt this comfortable costume,\ngreatly to their own satisfaction.\n\nAt present H.M.S. Nymphe and H.M.S. Sapphire are both in harbour. Our\ncousin, Captain Grant Suttie, commands the former, and Mr Gordon\u2019s\nbrother, Cosmo, is her first lieutenant. Captain Murray commands the\nSapphire, and prides himself, as well he may, on the perfection of her\nevery detail. His own cabins are exquisitely dainty in every respect;\nand Jack and Nevil are devoted to the lovely silky spaniels which are\nhis inseparable companions. Their own particular little black-and-tan\nterrier Snip, has a child almost as big as itself, by name Bones. It has\nattached itself to me; and now the family is further increased by a fat\nand sportive puppy, of which Bones stands in great awe.\n\nSir Arthur has now acquired all manner of parrots\u2014green and yellow,\nscarlet and black and purple\u2014which wander all over the place. The most\nexquisite of all are the Kulas, tiny miniature parrots, combining\ngreen, scarlet, and purple in their gem-like plumage, and capable of\nbeing so thoroughly tamed that we have had them walking about the table\nat breakfast, climbing over the flowers, or sitting on our fingers,\ncaressing us with their little rough tongues, and eating brown sugar and\nwater, which, I believe, is the only safe food to give them. They are\nplucky little birds, and walk about the verandah on guard, and drive away\nthe great big ducks, who stand in much awe of them. They also fight with\nthe beautiful wee kingfisher. The latter is useful in the way of killing\ncockroaches. The other day Abbey observed one of the laughing-jackasses\nhalf choking with the effort to swallow something, and going to the\nrescue found the dear little kingfisher half-way down its throat; neither\nseemed any the worse, however. A few days afterwards he again heard a\nscuffle, and found both the jackasses trying to swallow the same rat; as\nneither would yield its prize, he carried out Solomon\u2019s judgment with\ngood effect, and both were satisfied!\n\nI have been very busy for some time in painting careful studies of all\nthe best objects of native art which come to any of us in our several\ncollections. All the different patterns of carved bowls, with or without\ncuriously shaped legs\u2014some for oil, some for drink; all the multiform\nclubs and spears; all curious necklaces and ornaments; and a wonderful\nvariety of wooden pillows. It is really a very interesting occupation,\nand now I am beginning to make drawings of every piece of pottery that\nany one of us acquires. I determined to do this, both because the pieces\nare so brittle that comparatively few will reach England in safety even\nwith most careful packing, and also because, as each old woman works just\naccording to her own fancy, the best pieces, many of which are really\nmost artistic, are never made in duplicate\u2014at all events it is rarely\npossible to obtain a second, and things made to order are utter failures.\n\nLady Gordon has had large shelves made at one end of the drawing-room,\non which are placed some of our finest specimens of pottery, and very\nhandsome they are, of rich greenish yellow and red, glazed with resin.\nFor anti-macassars and sofa-covers we have handsome white native cloth,\nwith rich brown pattern. And instead of a carpet, one large cool mat, on\none corner of which Jack and Nevil (and any of their grown-up friends\nwhom they can entrap) build vast castles with large wooden bricks which\nhave just been made here. The dining-room is now beautifully decorated\nwith trophies of spears and clubs, and great bowls, and native cloth. The\nhouse is all so thoroughly in keeping with the country; so infinitely\npreferable to any attempt at making a Europeanised \u201cGovernment House,\u201d\nand so much more suitable to Sir Arthur\u2019s _r\u00f4le_ of premier chief of Fiji.\n\nThere are one or two minor points, however, on which we should be better\npleased if our home was not so purely Fijian; if, for instance, it were\nnot so very attractive to the crabs\u2014a family which share all a Briton\u2019s\nlove for travelling and inspecting the homes of other races. Here they\nbravely leave their native shore, and walk inland, wherever fancy leads\nthem; and this, I regret to say, is frequently into our bedrooms, where\nthey find hiding-places in dark corners behind boxes and portfolios,\nwhence at night they sally forth to make further researches, clattering\ntheir shell-armour against the woodwork, occasionally knocking down\nsomething which wakens us with a sudden start, and up we spring to\nfind perhaps a great broad-backed chap like a \u201cparten\u201d brandishing\nhis powerful claws within a few inches of our unprotected toes. Then\nfollows an exciting chase\u2014a regular game at hide-and-seek\u2014which probably\nawakens some of our sleeping neighbours, greatly to their disgust. Of\ncourse it results in the capture of the intruder, but then comes the\nquestion what to do with him. I cannot bring myself to stab him with a\nspine of cocoa-nut leaf, as the Fijian girls do (piercing him beneath\nthe main claw, which is his only vulnerable point); so I carry him down\nto the stream and throw him in, hoping he will travel back to the sea.\nI have had many such nocturnal adventures, and confess that I wish the\ninquisitive crabs would stay at home.\n\nNot that these are by any means the only members of the crab family which\nexplore our abodes. Nowhere have I seen such a number of hermit-crabs as\nswarm on these isles, occupying every shell on the beach, from the least\nto the greatest. There are literally myriads of them, and sometimes the\nwhole shore appears to be moving. But these errant hermits are by no\nmeans content to remain on the sea-beach,\u2014they wander far up the valleys,\nand meet us in most unexpected places, carrying their borrowed homes with\nthem; and we occasionally find them creeping up our mosquito-nets, and in\nother equally startling hiding-places.\n\nThere are also land-crabs which climb the tall cocoa-nut palms, and feed\non the nuts, tearing them open with strong unpleasant-looking pincers.\nAnd one kind is more troublesome than an English mole or rabbit, from\nthe aggravating manner in which it burrows in the ground, making such\ninnumerable holes as to render any bit of grass quite honeycombed. It\nwould be very dangerous to ride on.\n\nBut by far the most attractive members of the crab family are those which\ninhabit such muddy shores as those of Suva harbour, near the mouths of\nthe rivers, where they were to me an unfailing source of amusement.\nI spent hours watching them stealing cautiously out of their holes\nwhen they were sure the coast was clear, but darting back like a flash\nof lightning at the faintest movement of any living thing, even the\nvibration of the most cautious footstep. But if I waited very patiently\nand motionless, they presently reappeared one by one, till all along the\nshore I saw their strange bright-coloured claws waving aimlessly in the\nair. These crabs are tiny creatures, whose whole body rarely exceeds an\ninch in diameter; but they own one huge claw as large as their whole\nbody, and when feeding they hold this up as a guard, as if shielding\ntheir eyes, while with a tiny one they gather up their food on the\nshore, lifting an atom at a time into their mouth. This large pincer is\ninvariably of some bright colour\u2014yellow, rose-colour, or scarlet\u2014while\nthe rest of the body is black and white, purply, or brown. You cannot\nthink how curious it is to see the whole shore dotted with these waving\nyellow claws, which, on the very slightest movement on your part, vanish\nin the twinkling of an eye, and leave you standing alone on a dull\nexpanse of brown mud, without a symptom to suggest the existence of this\ngreat army of crabs.\n\nHow delighted Ran would be if he could only see the daring little bronze\nlizards, with bright blue tails, which keep darting about the verandah\nand all about the rooms. I am sitting on a long wicker-chair, and a big\nlizard and a little one have been playing hide-and-seek for the last\ntwo hours, the little one darting in and out through the holes in the\nwicker-work, sometimes at my back, sometimes darting under the chair and\nreappearing in front: sometimes I catch a glimpse of a head whose diamond\neyes peep through the little round holes in the wicker; then a bit of\nblue tail just reveals itself; sometimes it hides in the folds of my\ndress. Altogether it is one of a family of great darlings.\n\nBesides these various strange creatures, we find continual amusement\nin watching the various natives who are constantly about the place. A\ndetachment of the native police live in several cottages just on the\nother side of the _rara_, which is a small piece of rather level grass (a\nmost rare and valuable possession). Here they drill morning and evening\nin correct European style; but I hope the word police will not suggest to\nyou visions of the British \u201cbobby.\u201d These are a most picturesque force,\nand supply the Governor\u2019s guard, boat-crews, orderlies, &c. We are such\nnear neighbours that we hear their yangona _m\u00e9k\u00e9s_, whenever they brew\ntheir beloved grog; and we also have full benefit of morning and evening\nchurch parade and _lotu_. They have their own chaplain.\n\nSome of them are exceedingly fine men, with strong muscular frame and\ngood features, set off by a splendid head of frizzy hair, which, I am\nhappy to say, Captain Knollys encourages them to grow long. Of course\nit does not approach the gigantic mop of heathen days, but still it is\nvery large and carefully groomed. They periodically dip the whole in\ncoral-lime, and go about for a day or two white-headed; and very becoming\nit is to them. I cannot speak of this as of one of the mysteries of the\ntoilet, for the washing is done in public. The girls when undergoing this\nprocess look like court beauties got up for a fancy ball; and as for the\nmen, we might almost think we had a staff of powdered footmen, were it\nnot for a scarlet hybiscus or tuft of coloured grass knowingly stuck in\non one side; I even sometimes see one long cock\u2019s feather. When the lime\nis washed off, the hair, now beautifully clean, is combed out to its full\nlength, and while the roots retain their rich brown, the outer locks\nvary from a warm russet to a tawny yellow, according to the quality of\nthe lime. Both colours harmonise well with the rich brown madder tone of\nthe skin. This also varies, ranging through senna to clear olive in the\nmen of Tongan or Samoan blood. The hair and body next share a coating of\ncocoa-nut oil, and not till you have seen this applied can you realise\nthe force of the expression, \u201cOil to make him of a cheerful countenance.\u201d\nA Fijian who, from poverty or other cause, has failed to oil himself, is\na most wretched-looking creature.\n\nWe have had a good many visits lately from different chiefs, several of\nwhom have come to formal dinners, and have got through that ordeal in\nthe most creditable manner. I should think that sitting on chairs for\ntwo hours, during a long series of courses of strange dishes, eaten with\nunwonted knives and forks, must be very trying to them; but they are so\nwell bred, that they never allow themselves to appear bored, nor do they\nmake any mistakes,\u2014and of course the Fijian servants are on the alert to\nhelp them out of any dilemma; besides, at least one of the Governor\u2019s\ninterpreters is always of the party. Some of the ladies have been asked\nto dine, but have invariably excused themselves. They do not mind coming\nto luncheon, which is less alarming, and occasionally bring pretty\nchildren,\u2014greatly to little Jack\u2019s delight. He does love babies! Nevil\nrather despises them. A few days ago a party of Fijian ladies were caught\nin a tropical shower, just as they reached the house. All their pretty\nnative finery was destroyed; but we found no difficulty about supplying\ndry clothing, as so little was required. Lady Gordon gave the principal\nlady a new shawl to wear as a _sulu_, and begged her to accept it, which\nshe did with great satisfaction.\n\nI forgot to tell you of one very pretty expedition I had last week.\nDr Macgregor had to visit the isle of Naingani to see if it would do\nfor a quarantine station, so he asked me to go with him. He had the\nharbour-master\u2019s boat, manned by six wild-looking Solomon Island and\nNew Britain boatmen. Three hours\u2019 steady rowing brought us to a pretty\nisle, with white coral shore, haunted by myriads of hermit-crabs, and\novershadowed by very fine old _ndelo_ trees. We lunched beside a pool\nof fresh water on the shore, and found two good streamlets. The people\nseemed very poor. The coral-patches were lovely, and I found much\namusement watching black and yellow sea slugs, with heads like flowers,\nand black and white star-fish. Then I sketched the great trees, while the\ndoctor did his inspection; after which we had a lovely row home.\n\nThere is a good deal of sickness going about just now. Amongst other\nsufferers is old Mrs Floyd, the mother of our parson, who has nursed her\nwith such unwearied devotion, that now he is quite worn out. So last\nSunday Captain Havelock undertook both services. He makes a first-rate\nchaplain.\n\nI have just been up the hill with Mrs Havelock. We sat under the shadow\nof a great rock, with breezy sunshine all round us, and the lovely\nharbour below. I wished you had been sitting there with me. We watched\nthe glowing sunset colours, though we were facing due east. Every morning\nwe see the sun rise out of the sea; and at night we sit out in the\nstarlight and watch the Great Bear, which appears just over Levuka, and\nis very brilliant. It seems strange, does it not, that we, so low in the\nsouthern hemisphere, should look on such a familiar reminder of home?\n\nWe have had a sad death in the family from gluttony! One of the\nomnivorous laughing-jackasses contrived to catch Mrs Abbey\u2019s pet canary,\nand swallowed it, feathers and all. Strange to say, this actually proved\ntoo much for its digestion\u2014or rather for its throat, for it died of\nsuffocation. We shall hear its derisive laughter no more. Alas, poor\njackass!\n\nThe English mail has just brought me a budget of home-letters, and news\nof many matters that come to us as vivid reminders of the far-away grey\nisles, which I do sometimes long to see, for the sake of the many warm\nhearts they contain,\u2014not that I find these lacking in any corner of the\nearth. Good-bye, darling.\u2014Your loving sister.\n\n * * * * *\n\n FIJI, _March 29, 1876_.\n\nDEAREST NELL,\u2014I have just received, and greatly enjoyed, my budget of\nhome-letters.... At present I am staying in Levuka, nursing my pretty,\nnice little friend, Mrs de Ricci, who has a very severe attack of fever.\nShe has been for ten days in great danger, and is even now in high\ndelirium. She and I have been great friends ever since we first met in\nSydney; for she is a bright sunny little woman, always ready to make the\nbest of everything. Her husband is the Attorney-General here; but their\nhousehold, like most others in this land of discomfort, consists of a\nrough Irish girleen and an unkempt Fijian lad; so when the bonny little\nwoman was taken very ill, Dr Macgregor came to see if I would go to help\nfor a night. I have stayed on ever since, as she knows me through her\ndelirium, and is content generally to do what I ask her. So hitherto we\nhave rejected the various kind offers of help from friendly neighbours,\nand have divided the watches between us, and so manage very well. Nursing\nis much simplified in the tropics, where you have not to think about\nfires, happing up clothes, and keeping out draughts. On the other hand,\nnothing will keep, and your milk and beef-tea and chicken-broth go bad\nalmost before you can use them. Our patient has to eat something every\nhour; and sometimes it is difficult to keep things fresh. However, I\nthink she is getting on pretty well.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NASOVA, _Sunday, April 2_.\n\nAlas! our watching proved in vain. Yesterday morning, in the grey dawn,\nthe sweet soul passed quietly away, unconsciously and without pain, in\nher early spring-time. She was only twenty-two. She had battled through\nthe fever and subsequent dysentery, and we thought all danger was over,\nwhen suddenly a change for the worse set in, and it became evident there\nwas no hope. We have the comfort of knowing that if human skill could\nhave availed to keep her here, we certainly had excellent medical advice,\nhaving two very clever doctors\u2014Macgregor and Mayo\u2014in constant attendance,\nand two more in consultation.... Her one regret, since she arrived here,\nwas that she had left her only child in England\u2014a lovely little fellow,\naged three. She has missed him sorely. Now we are glad to think that he\nis safe at home.... At sunset we laid her to rest, under the shadow of a\ngreat boulder of red rock, on a headland overlooking the sea, with palms\nand wild-citron trees and tall reedy grass all round,\u2014a most lovely spot,\nespecially at sunrise, when the sun comes up out of the sea\u2014or in the\nbeautiful moonlight. I found it one day while exploring the bush round\nthe cemetery. It is within its boundaries, yet quite apart. Captain\nKnollys had a narrow path cleared yesterday leading to it. The evening\nwas dreary beyond description. The sea and sky were leaden. We had the\nfirst part of the service in church by candle-light. Mr Maudslay had made\na lovely cross of white flowers, which lay on the coffin. By the time\nwe came out it was quite dark, and we stumbled along the wretched path\nthrough the town to the shore, where boats were waiting. Of course we\nwere all present, and sad enough, as you may well believe; for this is a\nheavy cloud for our small community.\n\nIt is two miles from the church to the cemetery (which lies a mile beyond\nNasova). Happily it did not rain while we were going, but previous\ndownpours had made the steep clay path leading up to the hill from the\nsea-beach so slippery, that it was all the sailors could do to carry the\ncoffin (Captain Grant Suttie had sent his boats and men from the Nymphe).\nThe service was read by the dim light of a lantern, and was scarcely\nended when the rain fell in torrents\u2014a dismal night indeed....\n\nTo-day is clear and beautiful. Arthur Gordon went up the hill to search\nfor lovely mosses, and Baron von H\u00fcgel and I made a large cross of ferns,\nwhite silky grass, and scarlet balsams, which we carried to the now\nsacred headland\u2014one more spot of earth to recall our favourite motto,\n_Ci rivedremo_.[28] To-morrow a tall rude cross of cocoa-nut palm will\nbe placed there, to mark the spot, till a permanent one of granite can\ncome from England. On this island there is no stone suitable for the\npurpose,\u2014nothing but coarse conglomerate. I do not need to tell you how\nclosely this has touched us all, and tended to draw us together. One of\nour little sisterhood already gone, in her very prime.... Her husband\nreturns to England by the first steamer to see his child.\n\nSir William and Lady Hackett are also to leave almost immediately, he\nhaving been appointed a judge of the Supreme Court in Ceylon.[29]...\n\n * * * * *\n\n NASOVA, _April 6_.\n\nI have just received a most kind letter from the Langhams, who are going\nfor a month\u2019s cruise among the small isles in the centre of the group.\nThey go in the mission-ship the Jubilee, and invite me to go with them.\nOf course I have accepted gladly; and the fact of the mission-house at\nBau being thus left empty is such a grand chance of a change for Lady\nGordon and the chicks, that the Governor has asked for the loan of it,\nwhich has been cordially granted, and Mrs Havelock will accompany them.\n\nWe all felt that after such a trying time a change of scene would be very\ndesirable; but one of the many drawbacks of this colony is, that there is\nliterally no place to which ladies and children can go for a few days,\nunless such a chance as this occurs. Even the wretched house which Sir\nArthur rented at Suva last December is now turned into a public-house,\nwhere we could not stay again; and however hospitably inclined our white\nneighbours may be, there are probably not half-a-dozen in the whole group\nwho have even one spare room. So it happens that neither Mrs Havelock,\nLady Hackett, Mrs Macgregor (nor dear little Mrs de Ricci), have had one\nday\u2019s absence from Levuka since they landed here in July.\n\nI believe the real secret of preserving health in this climate is\nfrequent change of air, and, as you know, I have been pretty constantly\non the move. But it is not every lady who could enjoy the sort of\nprolonged gipsy or picnic life as much as I do. Now we are starting to\ntry it in a new phase.\n\nH.M.S. Barracouta has just come into harbour, and Captain Stevens dined\nhere last night. He unfortunately got mixed in the Samoan difficulties,\nand has brought Colonel Steinberger here as a prisoner, which is rather\nembarrassing. A few days ago a barque arrived here from Samoa, bringing\neight wounded sailors belonging to the Barracouta. They got into an\napparently senseless row with the natives, in which three blue-jackets\nwere killed. Doubtless this will involve some further complication.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\n\n GOOD FRIDAY IN FIJI\u2014ISLE KORO\u2014PLANTERS\u2019 HOUSES\u2014LABOUR\u2014MAKING\n NATIVE CLOTH\u2014GREAT FEASTS\u2014WEDDINGS\u2014SALARIES OF WESLEYAN\n MISSIONARIES AND TEACHERS.\n\n\n NAMATHU, ISLE OF KORO, _Good Friday, 1876_.\n\nDEAR NELL,\u2014It is raining heavily, and the wind is foul, and the Jubilee\nhas had to run to safer anchorage, otherwise we were to have started\nthis afternoon, to spend Easter on another island. I cannot say I regret\nthe detention, as our surroundings here are pleasant and peaceful, and it\nis time I sent you a report of my wanderings.\n\nThis day last year we were all in Paris, and spent the whole day in\nsolemn crowded churches\u2014La Madelaine and St Roch,\u2014and at the latter,\nafter the office of Les T\u00e9n\u00e9bres, I followed the stream of people into\nthe small dark chapel of the Entombment, where the sole ray of light\nfalls on the sepulchre, and on the strangely lifelike groups of sculpture\non either side, representing the Crucifixion and the Entombment, all the\nfigures life-size. A most impressive scene.\n\nVery different are our surroundings to-day, housed in a large cool\nnative house, the home of Isaaki, a fine old native minister, who has\ncharge of this beautiful island. It is an unusually nice house, having\nactually two distinct rooms, so it is an easy matter to partition the\ninner one, and thus we each have a really cosy little nest, which is the\nmore agreeable as this place is an important centre, and we have been\nhere for five days. Wonderful to tell, the house has wooden doors, but\nit is a strange thing in a country so richly wooded as this to see that,\nowing to the scarcity of planks, all the doors are made of old, battered,\nand worm-eaten canoes; so also are the bridges, in those rare cases\nwhere anything is provided more elaborate than the slippery stem of a\ncocoa-palm. Stranger still is it to hear that in many of these beautiful\nisles stone is so rare that, when some time ago a white settler had\nprocured a sandstone slab to place on a grave, the people came from miles\nround to sharpen their knives on it! The principal charm of this house\nis that it stands a little way apart from the village, on a quiet coral\nshore, close by the sea, with palms and other trees round it, and in this\nrespect is a perfect paradise compared with some places, where our night\nquarters have been in some stuffy overcrowded house, in the very heart of\nthe village.\n\nThere is a fine church here (just a large native house, thatched and\nmatted, with open doors all round it, which is by far the most suitable\nstyle of architecture for this climate), and this morning there was a\ncrowded attendance. I stayed at home, knowing that the service would be\nvery long; and the sound of a voice, or voices, speaking continuously in\nan unknown tongue, becomes exceedingly wearisome after a time, especially\nwhen the novel interest of watching the undulating pavement of tawny\nheads, brown backs, and white _sulus_ has worn off.\n\nI told you how kindly the Langhams offered to call for me at Levuka,\nand take me with them on this cruise in the mission-ship Jubilee, which\nis a 50-ton schooner. We started from Nasova at daybreak on April 8th,\nintending to go to the isle Nairai, but finding the wind favourable\nfor Koro came here instead. Mrs Langham and I were both very sick all\nday, and very thankful when at sunset, we anchored off a village called\nNambuna, where the teacher gave us entire possession of his small but\ntidy house, close to the sea, and embowered in tall plantains and\ncocoa-palms, and, moreover, enclosed by a fence made of tree-fern stems.\nHere we spent Palm Sunday, and had service under the shady _ndawa_\ntrees, which are like large walnut-trees, with young red leaves. It was\na very pretty scene. Also it was the first time I had been present at an\nopen-air celebration of the Holy Communion, and this devout congregation\nof gentle savages, kneeling so reverently on the grassy sward, beside\nthe calm blue sea, made our Palm Sunday service for 1876 one much to\nbe remembered. In the evening we had an English service, to which came\nseveral planters and their families; and we walked home with one lady\nalong the white shore in the clear bright moonlight. It was most lovely.\nThe foliage is much richer than on Ovalau; and there are such good paths\nalong the shore that riding would be delightful, if there were any horses.\n\nWe left Nambuna the following morning in a rowing-boat, but owing to\nsundry delays lost the high tide, and only got on at all by most careful\nsteering through intricate patches of lovely coral. Every few minutes\nwe found ourselves in such shallow water that all the crew had to jump\noverboard; Mr Langham and a friend did likewise, not expecting to go\nabove the knee, but before they could get in again they were over the\nwaist! Finally, we fairly stuck, and the boat had to wait for the tide,\nwhile we were carried ashore, and walked on to the next village.\n\nWe met a good many planters hereabouts,\u2014all poor, many of them having\nsunk quite large fortunes on their plantations when Fijian cotton was\nselling at very high prices. Now they are sadly down-hearted; and many\nseem grievously disappointed that annexation, so far from working\nmiracles of healing for shattered fortunes, appears for the present to\nhave only added to their difficulties in many ways. But all were very\nkind to us, and seem cheered by even a glimpse of faces from the outer\nworld. We called at Mr Chalmers\u2019s very pretty estate, and he showed us\nall over his cocoa-nut fibre-works. He grows cotton and maize, but his\nprincipal crop is red and white arrowroot, which we saw in all stages\nof preparation. Then climbing a very steep path, we were welcomed by his\npretty refined wife and daughters\u2014bright handsome girls. They gave us tea\nwith milk, though their goat only yields about a tumbler for the whole\nfamily, including several children. Certainly life on a Fijian plantation\ndoes not mean luxury, or rather it means such hardships as you, I am\ncertain, cannot realise. Butcher-meat unattainable; poultry and eggs too\nprecious for domestic use; fish-supply rare; fruit, as a rule, _nil_;\neven flour and groceries apt to run short. Daily fare consists of native\nvegetables, and perhaps a barrel of salt meat,\u2014not an appetising diet,\nnor one to tempt a jaded palate, nor yet easily varied. Of course the\nimportation of all sorts of preserved meats and fruits makes provisioning\nan easy matter for occasional travellers, but their constant use in a\nlarge family does not tend to economy.\n\nWe heard abundant instances of the invariable ill-luck which seems to\nattend all efforts at improvement in this unfortunate country. At one\nhouse where we called, the owner, Mr Morey, had recently imported some\nvaluable fowls. He discovered, when too late, that they were tainted with\ndisease, which rapidly spread, and his own stock of two hundred fowls\nall died, besides turkeys, ducks, and guinea-fowl. We found his wife\nsuffering torture from a form of ophthalmia which is very common in this\ncountry, known as _theeka_, from which, for the time, she was positively\nblind. Happily Mr Langham\u2019s medical skill proved useful in relieving her\nagony. One gentleman whom we met was suffering severely from an illness\ncalled _waanganga_, which causes the muscles of the arm to contract in\nsuch a manner that for several days you cannot bend it.\n\nAt one plantation we found an unpleasant instance of a state of things\ncommon enough hitherto, but now happily becoming impossible, as fast\nas the new order of law can make it so: A plantation worked by foreign\nlabour, who declare that they were all kidnapped under circumstances of\nvaried brutality, from the isles of Santo, Solomon, &c., and who have\nbeen illegally detained here for six years without receiving any pay.\n(The law provides for their being sent home after three years, with full\npay.) Now an additional six months have slipped away, during which they\nhave been detained, week by week, buoyed up by vain promises, and seeing\nmen on neighbouring estates receiving a shilling a-week for every week\nthey are detained, waiting for a ship to take them home. Naturally they\nare savage and sullen by turns, and repeatedly threaten the life of the\nyoung man left in charge of the estate, in the absence of the principal.\nHe tells them that if they kill him they will be hanged for murder; but\nthey say they would just as soon be hanged as live on in slavery.\n\nOne says he left his wife and six children the morning he went with\nhis best pig to trade with the great ship; some say their canoes were\nsmashed by heavy weights dropped from the ship, which left them helpless\nand at the mercy(!) of the white men; others say they were inveigled on\nboard to see machinery and other strange sights, and when they came on\ndeck the land lay miles behind them. Some weeks ago one of them threw a\nspear at the young overseer. It was caught and checked by another man;\nbut on his threatening the culprit with a licking, the whole body rose\n_en masse_, and in the dead of night came and took possession of his\nverandah, where he heard them all night consulting whether to kill him\nor not. Just before our arrival, two men rushed at him with knives, and\nhe had just time to retreat to his house and snatch up an (unloaded)\nrevolver, whereupon they retired. Now he has pacified them for the moment\nby distributing _sulus_, off a bale of cloth sent up by his employer\nto barter for _coppra_ (the men were literally naked); and he further\npromises to take a number of them to Levuka next week to tell their\nown story to the immigration agent. Do not such cases as these suggest\nplainly enough what deep wrongs to be avenged have led to such grievous\nresults as the murder of Commodore Goodenough or Bishop Patteson?\n\nEven with respect to the Fijians, I am sorry to say that the _niceness_\nof the natives depends greatly on how _few_ whites they see. The\ninhabitants of the isles frequented by whites are immeasurably inferior\nto those in more remote districts, and far less trustworthy.\n\nOur next halt was at Nasau, a very pretty village on the shore, beneath\npalms and other foliage, with a steep wooded hill just behind it, and a\ncarefully kept burial-ground with red-leaved plants on the graves. But I\nthink the night was the most unpleasant we have spent in Fiji. The house\ngiven to us was in the very middle of the village, and so small as to\nhave only one door and one small window, both of which were continually\nblocked up by a crowd of gaping spectators, who, contrary to all Fijian\nmanners, would not go away even when we were vainly attempting to sleep.\nUnfortunately for us, a child died in a large house next door to us, and\nthe whole night was devoted to doing honour to the parents. So while\nthe mother and other women wailed at the top of their voices, the young\nfolk danced in a circle in front of the house, singing their usual\nsongs. This went on the whole night. You can fancy we did not sleep\nmuch! In the morning I went to the door of the house, where the family\nappeared as cheerful as usual, and pleasantly invited me to enter. In so\ndoing I narrowly escaped treading on a mat at the doorway, which I then\ndiscovered was thrown over the dead child, a five-year-old little one.\n\nSchool and church service being over, I walked along the shore with Mrs\nLangham. It is a lovely coast, shaded by grand old trees, with here\nand there rich masses of creepers, which climb all over them, so that\na group of a dozen _eevie_ trees appears like one gigantic mass of\nlovely trailing foliage. We saw a whole valley clothed with the great\nwhite convolvulus, which is excellent food for cattle. The leaves take\nevery shade of metallic green, yellow, and bronze, and this effect is\nwonderfully lustrous.\n\nIsaaki, the venerable grey-haired minister, came to meet and welcome\nus. He is a very fine-looking old man, dignified and gentle, a striking\ncontrast to a large number of Kai Tholos\u2014_i.e._, mountain people\u2014who\nwere sent here as prisoners by the late Government, and who do look most\nmiserable objects now. They will soon be sent back to their own district.\nThe women are much and hideously tattooed round the mouth and all over\nthe lips and about the shoulders, and their only clothing is a fringe of\ndried grass. The women of the coast happily indulge in an exceedingly\nsmall display of tattooing. Some have slight patterns on the hands and\narms, which are considered attractive, but the majority only submitted to\nso much as was compulsory.[30]\n\nI have been much interested in watching various native manufactures.\nIn one village called Natheva\u2014_i.e._, the South\u2014the women were making\ndresses of the streamers of pandanus, brightly dyed, and others were\nplaiting mats made of tall flags or reeds, which they cut into strips\nwith a sharp shell. In another village I sat in the chief\u2019s house\nwatching the girls rasping sandal-wood with which to powder their hair\nand scent their hair-oil. One girl held the stick, and another had a\nlarge piece of skin of the sting ray-fish, stretched over another stick\nso rough as to act like a file as she rubbed it over the sandal-wood.\nThere was formerly a considerable amount of this fragrant wood in these\nisles, but ruthless traders have swept the land so thoroughly, without\nthe slightest thought of sparing young saplings, that now the tree\nscarcely exists, and the smallest fragment is dearly prized.\n\nWherever we go, we find the women busy preparing native cloth from the\nbark of the paper mulberry tree, which they take off in long strips and\nsteep in water to make the fibre separate from the green outer bark,\nwhich is scraped off with a sharp shell. Then the fibre is laid on a\nwooden board and beaten with a mallet, which is grooved longitudinally.\nA strip two inches wide can be beaten out to upwards of a foot in width,\nwhen it becomes gauze-like, and is used for festal attire; or else,\ndyed in burnt sugar and smoke-dried, it is a much-valued covering for\nthe hair. But for general use, two strips of the wet fibre are beaten\ntogether, their own gluten causing them to adhere to one another; or if\nvery strong cloth is required, three or even four thicknesses may be\nused. A number of such pieces are then neatly joined together with a glue\nmade from the _taro_, or from arrowroot, and thus a piece can be made of\nany size or length required. Sometimes a great roll, a couple of hundred\nyards long, is prepared for presentation to a chief; or else a double\nsquare, twenty feet wide by perhaps thirty or forty in length, to be hung\nup as mosquito-curtains. The _masi_ at this stage is of a creamy white\ncolour, very becoming to the brown creatures who wear it.\n\nSo far it simply answers to calico. If gorgeous apparel or handsome\nfurniture is required, it has next to be converted into painted _tappa_,\nand this is the prettiest part of the process, and requires considerable\ntaste and skill. The patterns produced are exceedingly rich and handsome,\ngenerally in shades of brown, sometimes with black or deep red. I have\nseen pieces imported from Samoa in which a great deal of yellow is\nintroduced; but though the Samoan cloth is much stronger, it is less\ntasteful. To sketch the design, the artist arranges thin strips of\nbamboo upon a convex board, and between them the pattern is indicated by\ncurved bits of the midrib of a cocoa-nut leaf. The cloth is laid over\nthis board and rubbed with a dye, which displays the pattern below, and\nthus the ground-work is prepared. Then the borders are very elaborately\npainted by a sort of stencil-work, the pattern being cut out of a banana\nleaf, heated over the fire, and laid on the _masi_. Then with a soft pad\nof cloth, dipped either in vegetable charcoal and water, or red earth\nliquefied with the sap of the candle-nut tree, or any other dye that\ntakes her fancy, the artist does her work with deft neat fingers. I have\nsucceeded in buying several small pieces of very beautiful design. The\nlarger ones are generally being made by the order of some chief, or for\nsome especial festivity.\n\nAnother process which I have watched with considerable interest is that\nof the girls preparing _mandrai_, which is bread made of bananas and\nbread-fruit. A Fijian baker\u2019s oven is simply a pit lined with plantain\nleaves and filled with bananas or bread-fruit, on which the girls tread\nto compress them into a pulpy mass: this they then cover with a thick\nlayer of green leaves and stones, and leave it to ferment, a process\nwhich begins about the third day. The indescribable stench which poisons\nthe air for half-a-mile round on the day when these dreadful pits are\nopened is simply intolerable,\u2014at least to the uneducated nose of us, the\n_papalangi_ (_i.e._, foreigners); but the Fijian inhales it with delight,\ntherein scenting the bread and puddings in which he most delights.\n\nThese puddings are sometimes made on a gigantic scale, on the occasion\nof any great gathering of the tribes. One has been described to me as\nmeasuring twenty feet in circumference; and on the same occasion\u2014namely,\nthe marriage of old King Tanoa\u2019s daughter to Ngavindi, the chief of the\nfisherman tribe\u2014there was one dish of green leaves prepared, ten feet\nlong by five wide, on which were piled turtles and pigs roasted whole:\nthere was also a wall of cooked fish, five feet in height and sixty feet\nlong. The puddings are generally made of _taro_, cooked and pounded,\nand made into small lumps, which are baked, and afterwards all heaped\nin one great pit lined with banana leaves, and mixed up with sugar-cane\njuice and pounded cocoa-nut. I have been told about one great feast for\nwhich nineteen gigantic puddings were prepared, the two largest being\nrespectively nineteen and twenty-one feet in circumference. Verily our\nfamiliar Scottish haggis must bow to those Fijian cousins, and confess\nhimself to be no longer the\n\n \u201cGreat chieftain of the pudding race.\u201d\n\nCertainly the masses of food accumulated on these great days beat\neverything we have heard of even at ancient Scottish funeral feasts.\nEnormous ovens were prepared (they would be so still, at any great\ngathering of chiefs). They are simply great pits, perhaps ten feet\ndeep and twenty in diameter, which are lined with firewood, on which\nis arranged a layer of stones: when these are heated the animals to be\nroasted are laid on them, with several hot stones inside each to secure\ncooking throughout. Then comes a covering of leaves and earth, and the\nbaking process completes itself. This, on a smaller scale, is the manner\nin which our daily pig is cooked. I have seen a bill of fare which\nincluded fifty pigs roasted whole, seventy baked turtles, fifteen tons of\nsweet pudding, fifty tons of yams and _taro_, and piles of yangona root,\nbesides many trifling dainties.[31]\n\nHappily for us, the puddings are not all nasty; some are rather nice;\nand one preparation of arrowroot bread is excellent. Our daily pork\nis not served here with the same unerring regularity as it was on our\nmountain trip, where we lived in an ever-present atmosphere of roast-pig,\nfatted-pig, or sucking-pig, as the case might be,\u2014pig it was always. Here\nfish, and even fowl and occasional eggs, form a delightful variety; and\nof course we always have tinned provisions in case of need.\n\nOne thing which I do not think I have yet mentioned, is that in every\nvillage there is invariably one large house called the _bur\u00e9_, where all\nthe young men sleep. It would be contrary to all notions of propriety\nthat they should occupy the same house as the women, even their nearest\nrelations. In fact, brothers and sisters, or brothers-in-law and\nsisters-in-law, and various other near kinsfolk, are forbidden even to\nspeak to one another, or to eat from the same dish. For a man to eat\nfood left by a woman would be highly _infra dig._; and to unroll a mat\nbelonging to a woman, or to lie down upon it, would be the height of\nimpropriety. The laws of affinity in regard to marriage are very curious.\nFirst cousins, who are children of brother and sister, may intermarry,\nbut the children of two men who are full brothers may on no account do\nso, indeed, may hardly speak to one another. No word exists to express\nuncle. All brothers are alike called father by their nephews, but the\nnephew has various rights greater than those of a son. In the matter of\nsuccession it is the brother, not the son, who succeeds as head of the\nfamily, and _he_ is succeeded by _his_ brother; finally, the succession\nreverts to the eldest son of the eldest brother. This order is, however,\nliable to modification by the rank of the mother, or the personal\ninfluence of the nephew, who enjoys most singular privileges. He is\ncalled a _vasu_, and in certain districts is allowed the extraordinary\nprerogative of claiming anything he wishes which belongs to his uncle or\nthe uncle\u2019s vassals, especially the uncle on the mother\u2019s side. If the\nnephew is a _vasu levu_\u2014_i.e._, the son of a high-born woman by a high\nchief\u2014there is practically no limit to the exactions to which he may\nsubject his unfortunate uncle. He may appropriate his new canoe, his best\ngarments, his valuable curtains, mats, club, necklace\u2014whatever he covets;\nand the uncle has no redress,\u2014the action is _vaka Viti_ (custom of Fiji),\nand that argument is unanswerable. I have even heard of a nephew of a\nchief of Rewa who, having quarrelled with his uncle, exercised this right\nto the extent of seizing his store of gunpowder, and employing it against\nhim.\n\nIn the last few days there have been a great many weddings: and the\npeople here are much more elaborately got up for the occasion than our\nfriends in the mountains. Here both bride and bridegroom are swathed in\nso many yards of beautifully painted native cloth, that it is scarcely\npossible for them to move. As they could not walk any distance with this\ninconvenient weight of magnificence, those who come from other villages\nlet their friends carry the wedding-garment, and then they dress under\nthe trees beside the sea\u2014a process which I have often watched with much\ninterest. The cloth is rolled round the body in so many folds that the\nvictim is simply a walking bale of stuff; besides this, great loops and\nfolds are worn _en panier_, and a huge frill is so arranged as to stand\nup like a fan at the back. A train of eight or ten yards is carried by\nattendants; and the effect produced is really very handsome and becoming,\nespecially when several couples arrive at church simultaneously. Some\nhave come in the evening by torchlight\u2014the torches made of bundles of\nreeds, which blaze brightly\u2014and the scene has been a very pretty one.\n\nWe went one evening to a wedding-feast, hoping to see some of the old\ndistinctive ceremonies, such as Mrs Langham remembers in old days. But\nthe graceful customs have been abandoned, together with the unseemly, and\nthe young couple simply sat together, partook of pig and yam, and washed\ntheir hands in one bowl. The bride was the prettiest girl I have seen\nin Fiji. Her hair was powdered with finely-grated sandal-wood, and her\nwedding-dress consisted of folds of the finest gauze-like _masi_, crossed\nover each shoulder and under the breasts. One of the couples seemed to\nafford great amusement to the bystanders,\u2014a very cheery little old maid\nwas marrying a kindly-looking old man. They seemed quite happy about it\nthemselves, so could afford to let the neighbours laugh. One poor young\ncouple were not allowed to marry, as, at the last moment, Mr Langham\ndiscovered that the damsel was a minor, and her father absent.\n\nWe were amused to see several brides and bridegrooms reappear, in simple\nattire, to take their place as scholars in the school-examinations, at\nwhich one charming brown baby appeared, toddling about, dressed in the\ncover of an old umbrella as its _sulu_! All the babies have the quaintest\nshaven heads, with odd little tufts of hair left as fancy prompts. The\nlittle girls generally have a long lock left on one side, forming a dozen\nvery line plaits; many are quite little dandies, in their small kilts\nof fine white _masi_, or Turkey-red, and necklace of bright leaves,\nor the orange seed of the pandanus. Some are very fully attired in a\nscarlet pocket-handkerchief, tied across the breast, and forming a tiny\npetticoat. But the jolliest baby of all had no clothes at all, and could\nonly just toddle; but it gravely followed the others, and tried to do\n_m\u00e9k\u00e9_, and dance like the big ones, to the great delight of its parents.\nWhen a Fijian woman carries her child, it invariably sits astride on her\nhip, her arm clasping its little body.\n\nYesterday Mr Langham was busy the livelong day examining candidates for\nbaptism, and holding a quarterly meeting of school teachers, from all\nparts of the isle. Mrs Langham had charge of all the wives; so Mr Morey\nand his mother and sisters kindly came to fetch me in their boat, and\ntook me to a very pretty village, called Mundoo, beside the sea, and\nbacked by richly wooded cliffs. I got a sketch from a rocky headland,\ncommanding a fine view; and the old chief of the village sat by me,\nwatching my work with keen interest.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _Easter Day._\n\nLast Easter morning we embarked at Marseilles. What a busy, bustling day\nthat was,\u2014with all the inevitable fuss of a huge crowded ship starting on\na long voyage! I cannot say that this has been a very quiet day, though\npeaceful enough.\n\nThere was a crowded early service in the church here; and after breakfast\nMr Morey brought his boat and took us all to Mundoo, the pretty village I\ntold you of. There Mr Langham held service, after which he returned here\nfor the afternoon work. I had a most lovely walk with the Moreys, and\narrived here in time for an English service. We are to embark to-morrow\nat dawn, so I will only add Good night.\u2014Your loving sister.\n\nI am quite sorry to leave Koro, and dear old Isaaki laments our\ndeparture quite pathetically; but we are to visit all the villages round\nthe coast, while the Jubilee takes a run to other isles, on some work for\nthe mission.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NATAULOA, CHIEF TOWN IN THE ISLE NAIRAI, _April 21st_.\n\nWe were ready before dawn, but had to walk a couple of miles along the\ncoast to the point where the Jubilee was lying, and there found a native\nteacher, with his family and all their goods, waiting to be taken on\nboard; and as there was only one tiny boat, it was 11 A.M. ere we sailed.\nOutside the reef there was a good deal of sea on, and we were both very\nsick all day, and could not get near Nairai. We spent a wretched night;\nfor though there is a small cabin, it is so very stuffy that we prefer\njust lying on deck and making the best of it. At dawn we were still off\nthe coast of beautiful Koro. We neared Nairai in the afternoon, but the\nwind fell, and we could not make the difficult passage through the reef,\nwhich is six miles from the island; so we had a second night lying on the\ndeck, vainly seeking for a soft plank, and longing for the mats of the\nnative houses. Happily the night was faultlessly lovely, and every cloud\nand star was mirrored in the glassy ocean. We lay watching the Southern\nCross and the Great Bear; and Venus sank as Jupiter rose, casting long\nreflections of sparkling light. It does seem strange to look up night\nafter night and see the old familiar stars, remembering how very nearly\nwe are standing sole to sole,\u2014at least we are within a week\u2019s run of New\nZealand, which is the exact antipodes of Britain. You see we have gained\ntwelve hours on you, and often think of you as just sitting down to\nbreakfast when we are turning in for the night!\n\nThe singing at evening prayer on deck was actually pretty,\u2014the Fijian\nteachers and the Rotumah crew having nice voices. Our captain (Martin by\nname) comes from Heligoland. His opinion of life in Fiji is not high.\n\u201cAy! it _is_ the country for makeshifts!\u201d\n\nAs the mention of our crew being Rotumans probably conveys no definite\nidea to your mind, I may as well mention that Rotumah is a little\nindependent island lying by itself about three hundred miles to the north\nof Fiji, which is the nearest inhabited land.[32] It is a volcanic isle,\nwith several long-extinct craters, now clothed with rich vegetation.\nIt has a population of about four thousand; but owing to the strong\npropensity of the people for a seafaring life, a large proportion of\nthese are generally absent. They are a small race, and of a clear\ncopper colour. The story of how the first tidings of Christianity were\ncarried to this isle by Tongan teachers,\u2014of the vigorous hold which the\nnew faith quickly took\u2014of the virulent persecution that ensued\u2014of the\nstrongly rooted determination with which the converts held their ground,\nso that, when first visited by a white teacher, it was found that half\nthe population were already professed Christians, who eagerly hailed his\ncoming,\u2014this story, I say, is one of the most remarkable episodes in the\nprogress of Christianity in any part of the world. So I looked on these\nRotumah men with especial interest as representatives of this people.\n\nThe beautiful night wore away, and in the morning a kindly breeze sprang\nup and brought us straight to the passage, when, with a few tacks, we\nmade this anchorage. The village is pretty enough, shadowed by large\ntrees, actually on the shore; but the people seemed unhealthy, and the\nflies multitudinous, and the house prepared for us is buried in poor\nplantains, and is stuffy and damp.\n\nAfter due inspection, we determined on sleeping in the large matted\nchurch, close to the teacher\u2019s house, offered us. Of course it is\notherwise quite empty,\u2014save for a pulpit adorned with white shells. So\nwe curtained off one end of it and there slept in peace, while just\nbeyond our screens, Mr Langham was holding a meeting of all the native\nteachers on the island,\u2014such a fine sensible body of men. Next night\nthere were four weddings, and so many friends assembled that we did not\nventure on rigging up our quarters till the very tedious ceremony was\nover,\u2014tedious because of the amount of inquiry and cross-questioning\ninvolved, and dismally dark, as our one lantern was the sole light in the\nlarge dark church. So many strangers assembled from other villages that\nthe teacher\u2019s house, where we were by way of living, was crammed; so we\nhad our breakfast in church, where I am now writing to you while waiting\ntill the Jubilee is ready to sail,\u2014the delay being caused by shipping the\nnative minister and all his family, who go to another isle. We brought\ntheir successors with us. Also we take half-a-dozen lads, whose parents\ngive them to the mission for special training at one of the institutions;\nthen if they prove to be good stuff they will be promoted to the training\ncollege, and gradually advance to be teachers, and perhaps eventually\nnative ministers in charge of large districts. The organisation is most\nperfect, and spreads like a web over every remote corner of the isles,\nalways excepting the still heathen mountain districts.\n\nThe work of a native teacher is no sinecure. To begin with, he may be\nsent to a distant island, where the dialect is so different from his own\nthat he has to begin by learning the language of the people. In this the\nmen of Bau have a great advantage over all others, their speech being\nthe standard of pure Fijian, in which, consequently, the Scriptures are\npublished, so they are understood by all the people; but the Bau men are\nthemselves sometimes sorely puzzled, just as you might be if addressed in\nbroad Yorkshire or Somerset. There are about sixteen distinct dialects\nspoken in the group, some of which are as different as Spanish is from\nPortuguese. Once appointed to a district, the teacher has to hold\nschool three mornings a-week for children, three evenings for adults,\none week-day service with address, two Sunday services with sermon,\nand early prayer-meeting in church. He must conduct daily morning and\nevening prayer in several houses; must visit the sick; pray and read the\nScriptures with them; look after the people generally; bury the dead, and\ntravel once a-week to report himself to the native minister, who perhaps\nlives at a considerable distance.\n\nHis pay varies from ten to twenty shillings, paid quarterly _in kind_.\nShould the value of the gifts exceed the sum to which he is entitled\n(decided by stewards in each village), the surplus, which may be a few\nshillings, goes to eke out the pay of a man in a poorer place. He is\nprovided with a free house, and works in his own garden. His dinner is\nprovided for him on Sunday. Once a-month an offering of food is made by\nthe village, perhaps sufficient to last for a couple of days. And once\na-year there may perhaps be an extra offering of yams.\n\nA native minister is entitled to receive twenty-five shillings a-quarter,\nand possibly a hundred yams as his annual offering, but this is rarely\npaid in full. He is subject to the law of the Wesleyan Mission Society,\nwhich forbids a missionary to possess any land as private property, or to\ndo any act of trade\u2014_i.e._, buying to sell again. The salary he receives\nfrom the Society is \u00a35 a-year, which is raised to \u00a315 after fifteen\nyears\u2019 service. I think it may interest you to see a sample of the manner\nin which the quarterly contributions for teachers is paid. For instance,\nhere is a table of the offertory in each village on the isle of Ngau, one\nof the richer districts. Others, such as the Ra coast, give much less.\nThe sum here represented is the quarterly salary of both native minister\nand schoolmaster.\n\n +-----------+-----------+---------+----------+---------+------------+\n | | Pieces | | | | |\n | Bottles | of native | Whales\u2019 | Hanks of | | Total |\n | of oil. | cloth. | teeth. | sinnet. | Money. | value. |\n +-----------+-----------+---------+----------+---------+------------+\n | | | | |_s._ _d._| \u00a3 _s._ _d._|\n | | | | | | |\n | 2 | 12 | 9 | 8 | 16 0 | 1 10 0 |\n | | | | | | |\n | \u2014 | 7 | \u2014 | \u2014 | \u2014 | 0 3 6 |\n | | | | | | |\n | 5 gallons.| 5 | 1 | \u2014 | 1 6 | 0 8 0 |\n | | | | | | |\n | 7 | 2 | 2 | 1 basket.| \u2014 | 0 13 0 |\n | | | | | | |\n | \u2014 | 2 | 1 | 3 | 2 0 | 0 8 0 |\n | | | | | | |\n | 5 gallons.| 12 | \u2014 | 2 | \u2014 | 0 15 0 |\n | | | | | | |\n | \u2014 | 1 | 3 | 2 | 12 6 | 0 18 0 |\n | | | | | | |\n | 1 | 1 | 7 | \u2014 | 6 0 | 0 15 0 |\n | | | | | | |\n | \u2014 | 2 | 4 | 1 | 8 0 | 0 15 0 |\n | | | | | | |\n | 3 | 4 | 6 | \u2014 | 15 6 | 1 3 0 |\n | | | | | | |\n | 3 | 1 | 2 | \u2014 | 6 0 | 0 8 0 |\n | | | | | | |\n | \u2014 | 1 | \u2014 | 1 | 6 6 | 0 7 0 |\n +-----------+-----------+---------+----------+---------+------------+\n\nI cannot say that a practical acquaintance with mission pay proves it\nto be of the very \u201cfattening\u201d character commonly supposed. All white\nmissionaries, from the superintendent downwards, alike receive from the\nSociety \u00a3180 per annum. For every child they are allowed \u00a312, 12s. a-year\ntill they are sixteen years of age, and an educational grant of \u00a312,\n12s. from eight till sixteen years. The Society pays the extra insurance\npremium charged for Fiji up to \u00a3500 (_i.e._, \u00a35 out of \u00a316). And the\ninsurance must be paid, being the sole provision for a widow. Thirty\nshillings a-year is allowed for medical stores for the whole family; and\nfor these the natives are continually asking, and are never refused. \u00a33\nextra is given in the event of a confinement. No yam-garden is allowed,\nbut a free house is furnished, and about \u00a312 is allowed to keep up a boat\nand crew for mission purposes. Goods are delivered in Levuka freight\nfree, and brought thence by the mission schooner Jubilee. After ten\nyears\u2019 service a retiring pension of \u00a340 a-year is allowed, rising to \u00a360\nafter twenty years, when a gift of \u00a350 is made to furnish a house. Forty\nyears\u2019 service entitles a man to a pension of \u00a3140 a-year. A missionary\nmay receive _no_ offerings from the people for his own use. Marriage and\nbaptism fees, which are respectively 4s. and 1s., are all handed over\nto the general fund for circuit expenses, such as providing canoes, &c.\nThe yams, &c., given at school examinations are given to poor teachers,\nor to the lads at the training institution. It is compulsory on every\nmissionary to pay \u00a36, 6s. a-year to the Superannuated Preachers\u2019 Fund,\nand \u00a31, 1s. a-year to the Educational Fund. Servants must be clothed and\nfed, and constant gifts of cloth, medicine, &c., made to poor teachers\nand others.\n\nYou may judge from these particulars that a missionary\u2019s income is not on\nthat excessively luxurious scale which you might suppose from reading the\ncomments made by many travellers, who have been hospitably entertained\nat mission stations as much-honoured guests, for whom even the fatted\ncalf has not been spared, and who (seeing the air of bright comfort and\nneatness prevailing around) have failed to give honour due to the careful\nand excellent housekeeping which could produce such admirable results\nwith smaller means than are squandered in many a slatternly and slovenly\nhousehold.\n\nMany even make this comfort the text for a discourse on the superiority\nof the Romish missions, on the self-denial and ascetic lives of the\npriests, quite forgetting that in teaching such races as these, one of\nthe most important objects is to give them the example of a happy loving\nhome, bright with all pleasant influences of civilised life.\n\nTo me one of the strangest things here is the unaccountable jealousy of\nthe missionaries, and their marvellous influence with the people, which\npervades all classes of white men, old residents and new-comers alike. To\nunderstand the position, you must recollect that, forty years ago, two\nmissionaries landed on these isles, to find them peopled by cannibals\nof the most vicious type. Every form of crime that the human mind can\nconceive reigned and ran riot; and the few white settlers here were the\nworst type of reprobates, who could find no other hiding-place; for the\nearliest founders of this colony were a number of convicts, who, about\n1804, escaped from New South Wales, and managed to reach Fiji, where,\nby free use of firearms, they made themselves dreaded, and the chiefs\ncourted them as useful allies in war. So these desperadoes gained a\nfooting in the isles, and amazed the Fijians themselves by the atrocity\nof their lives. One man, known as Paddy Connor, left fifty sons and\ndaughters to inherit his virtues!\n\nSuch men as these had certainly not done much to smooth the way for\nChristian teachers; yet in the forty years which have elapsed since the\nWesleyan missionaries landed here, they have won over a population of\nupwards of a hundred thousand ferocious cannibals. They have trained an\nimmense body of native teachers\u2014established schools in every village.\nThe people themselves have built churches all over the isles, each of\nwhich has a crowded congregation; and there is scarcely a house which has\nnot daily morning and evening family prayer\u2014a sound never heard in the\nwhite men\u2019s houses; and of course the old vile customs are dropped, and\nChristian manners take their place. Such is the system of supervision by\nthe teachers, that any breach of right living must be at once known, and\nvisited by the moral displeasure of those whom the people most respect.\n\nThis (and the fact that besides feeding and clothing the native teachers,\neach village once a-year contributes to the general support of the\nmission) is the ground which white men take as an excuse for decrying the\nexcellent missionaries. You hear of \u201ctheir inordinate love of power\u201d and\n\u201cgreediness;\u201d their excellent moral influence is simply \u201cpriestcraft;\u201d\nand though the speakers are invariably compelled to acknowledge the\ngood work they have hitherto done, I have actually heard men in high\nposition (who have never been beyond Levuka, nor set foot in a native\nchurch) speak as if that work was now finished, and it was high time the\ncontributions of the people should be diverted from the support of the\nmission to the Government treasury; in fact, as if every shilling paid\nto their teachers was so much of which Government is being defrauded. It\nis the old story of kicking over the ladder by which you have climbed.\nFor most certainly, but for the missionaries and their work here,\nEngland would have had small share in Fiji to-day. A questionable gain,\nI confess! I must say I am greatly disgusted by the tone in which I hear\nthis matter discussed,\u2014not by any of our own party, however, for they,\none and all, hold the mission in the very highest honour, and constantly\nattend the native services.\n\nAs you may possibly hear echoes of the anti-mission howl on the subject\nof ecclesiastical exactions, you may remember that it is invariably\nraised by men whose own poverty is certainly not due to the extent of\ntheir almsgiving; also that the actual working expenses of this great\nmission (with its 900 churches and 1400 schools, filled with ex-cannibals\nor their offspring) are between \u00a34000 and \u00a35000 a-year, a sum of which\nnot above half has ever been collected in the isles, at the annual\nmissionary meetings; and in no case is there any offertory in church.\nOf course, in the earlier years the mission was entirely supported by\nEngland and the colonies, and Fiji gave no help at all; but, naturally,\nthe parent society expects each fully established church to become\nself-supporting, and to do something in its turn to establish new\nmissions in districts or isles yet more remote, that so the little grain\nmay expand and become a wide-spreading tree.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\n\n ISLE NGAU\u2014MUD CRABS\u2014ALBINOS\u2014BATHING IN THE TROPICS\u2014AN EARNEST\n CONGREGATION\u2014A TYPICAL VILLAGE\u2014FIJIAN STUDENTS\u2014THE BURNT\n WATERS\u2014A NARROW ESCAPE\u2014WRECK OF THE FITZROY.\n\n\n IN A TEACHER\u2019S HOUSE AT VANUASO, ISLE NGAU, _April 26_.\n\nFrom Narai we had a fine run over to this isle, which is a land of high\nhills, deeply scored with valleys, wooded on one side, grassy on the\nother (at least apparently so, really covered with tall reeds). They look\ngolden green as light misty showers pass over them while the sun shines.\nA gusty wind sprang up just as we made the passage, and entailed a good\ndeal of beating before we could reach our anchorage off Sawaieke, which\nis the chief town on this island. We had some difficulty in landing,\nas the tide was low, leaving a broad expanse of mud; and the shore is\nfringed with mangrove, which always implies rather a swampy situation.\nWe found cosy quarters in the house of Ratu Hosea, the native minister,\na chief by birth, and a fine man (at present suspended from his office\nbecause he was so unfortunate as to box the ears of a very aggravating\nwife, who happened to die soon afterwards; so of course evil tongues gave\nhim credit for having caused her death). In the church at Sawaieke all\nthe beams are covered with _tappa_, with a pattern of large stars\u2014very\neffective; and I was reminded of the \u201cmortification boards\u201d in Scotch\nkirks by seeing a regular churchwarden\u2019s record, stating that \u201cthe doors\nand windows of this church cost 3000 yams!\u201d\n\nI greatly enjoyed strolling along the shore here. A lovely path leads\nunder great _eevie_ trees and through groves of cocoa-palms, with young\npalms growing up so thickly under them as to form a network of fronds,\nwith an undergrowth of tall grasses, casting a light shade, through\nwhich the sunlight flickered. All along the shore are little streams with\nmuddy banks, perforated with holes made by tiny crabs, prettier than\nthose we saw at Suva. Besides those with the one large scarlet claw, we\nsaw some with black back, green-spotted, others with scarlet back and\nblack body, some black and green, with all their claws and legs scarlet,\nand some with bits of blue and white\u2014most fascinating little creatures.\nWe caught some, in spite of the marvellous rapidity with which they\nvanished.\n\nStarting at early dawn in a big canoe, the men poled us along the coast\nto the next village, Navukailange, which was less muddy than the last,\nbut the surroundings less pretty. A picturesque crowd had assembled for\nthe school examination; and a multitude of pigs of all colours and ages,\nwith infant broods, pervaded the village, grunting cheerily. The same\nafternoon we visited two other villages. The tide was too low to allow\nthe canoe to take us, so we walked along the beautiful shore by a good\npath, through rich wood, till we reached Vione. It was quite dark when\nwe arrived, and we were very weary, but we went straight to the church,\nand there lay down to rest in peace, and presently the canoe arrived,\nhaving poled through the mangrove-swamp. A light was brought us, just a\nwick in an old sardine-box, and we made a cup of tea, without milk of\ncourse, and then the canoe brought us here, where we found good quarters\nin a teacher\u2019s house, close by the sea, but were kept awake by a poor\nchild coughing violently all night. All the coast hereabouts is covered\nwith mangrove, forming a dense bush, intersected by salt-water creeks or\nrivers. The villages are built close to the water, and having this dense\ngrove all around them, and no circulation of air, the heat is always very\ngreat, and mosquitoes, flies, and sand-flies abound.\n\nOn this island we have seen three albinos, which, happily, are very rare\nobjects. Even a sun-browned European face looks pale and lacking colour\namong these rich sienna and madder hues, but these poor creatures are\ntruly hideous. The first I saw was a boy about eighteen years old; his\nflesh was pale pink, blotched on the shoulders, and his hair a very pale\nyellow, and eyes very weak. He was an unwholesome, naked-looking object,\nsuggestive of a poor hermit-crab dragged out of its shell. Poor fellow!\nhe shrank greatly from notice, and had clothed himself in all the fringe\ngarments he could collect, partly because the white skin suffered so\nseverely from exposure to the sun. The next albino I saw was a child,\nwhich might almost have been mistaken for a European, but it was purely\nFijian. Of course half-castes exist, but they are not very numerous.\nThe third albino was a woman of quite a natural white, with very fair\nhair, and pale-blue eyes. She was a Kai Tholo, and had blue tattooing\nround her mouth, but really was not an unpleasant object to look at.\nShe seemed to have a natural attraction to her white sisters, and came\nabout us constantly. She gave me a prettily woven basket, and seemed much\ngratified when I presented her with some bright green calico, evidently\nperceiving that it was becoming to her fair colouring. I am told that in\none instance albino twins were born\u2014a boy and a girl\u2014much whiter than\nEnglish children\u2014and both grew up. We occasionally see men suffering from\na form of leprosy which blanches the feet and hands. Though by no means\n\u201cas white as snow,\u201d the contrast with the brown body is very marked and\nhorrible.\n\n * * * * *\n\n THE TEACHER\u2019S HOUSE AT LAMITI, ISLE NGAU, OR ANGAU, _April 27_.\n\nI am writing this letter in fragments,\u2014just a few lines at a time\u2014while\nwaiting for our starts; and as we depend wholly on the tide, these are\nsometimes most inconvenient. Thus at the present moment, 8 P.M., we would\nfain be rigging up our mosquito-curtains in the large clean house which\nhas been our home for the day. But, alas! Mr Langham has accumulated such\na pile of work\u2014church service, teachers\u2019 meeting, school examinations,\nmarriages, and baptisms,\u2014to get through to-morrow at the next large town,\nthat, to my unspeakable disgust, he cannot venture on waiting for the\nmorning tide, so we have to do about fourteen miles\u2019 poling in a canoe\nto-night, in total darkness, along a coast which by daylight is quite\nlovely. Besides, we are pretty well tired to begin with, having been up\nlong before sunrise, and finished breakfast by 7 A.M., to catch this\nmorning\u2019s tide; and having got here before 9 A.M. have ever since been\nhanging about, looking at the village, the shore, schools, and quaint\nscholars (from tiny toddles to grown-up men and women), all more or\nless picturesquely dressed up, some with gauze-like _tappa_ worn over\nTurkey-red, with tufts of crimson or blue dyed fibre in the hair.\n\nWhile the Langhams were at a long church service, I stole off for a\nbathe, but to-day was eminently unsuccessful in my quest, from foolishly\ntaking the advice of some Fijian women, whose ideas of bliss in this\nrespect are not ours, publicity being no drawback. You really can hardly\nrealise what an enchanting feature in our travels is our daily bath. No\nhumdrum tub, filled by a commonplace housemaid, but a quiet pool on some\nexquisite stream, sometimes a clear babbling brook, just deep enough to\nlie down full length, beneath an overarching bower of great tree-ferns\nand young palm-fronds, all tangled with trailing creepers, and just\nleaving openings through which you see peeps of the bluest of skies, and\ntall palms far overhead. And sometimes the stream widens into a broad\ndeep pool without a ripple, lying in the cool shade of a group of _eevie_\ntrees, which are the commonest foliage here, like grand old walnut-trees.\nConceive the delight of coming on such a stream after a couple of days\non board ship, or after escaping from a dark Fijian house crammed with\npeople, who, having presented various trays of steaming food, vegetables,\nfish, &c. (yesterday we had four pigs roasted whole, and two turtle,\nthe latter invariably nasty), deem themselves rewarded by sitting down\ndeliberately to enjoy a long fixed stare at the white pigs eating!\nImagine, I say, escaping from this stew\u2014and getting hotter still by a\nscramble in the grilling sun\u2014and then following up the stream till you\nfind a pool perfect in all respects, especially one with a waterfall just\nbig enough to sit under, and therein plunging and rejoicing as you only\ncan in water so warm as this! Of course, we are not always burdened with\nbathing-gowns, but a bathing-towel and a large white umbrella form an\nexcellent substitute; and Mrs Langham has a Fijian girl whom we generally\nset to watch just in case of any chance wanderer, and then we each choose\na bath after our own heart. But sometimes I come on such irresistible\npools when I am scrambling about alone, where the tall reedy grasses are\nmatted with large-leaved convolvuli, and not a sound is heard save the\nripple of the stream over the stones, or the rustle of the leaves in the\nfaint breeze, that I just slip in and revel, and go on my way rejoicing.\nI need scarcely say that our toilet on these expeditions is not very\nelaborate. Will you be shocked if I add, that having two or three ripe\noranges, just gathered from the tree, greatly enhances the delight of the\nsituation?\n\n * * * * *\n\n _Saturday Night, April 29._\n\nWell, we did start soon after eight, and passed five miles of coast, with\njust enough glimmer of light to see that it was unusually lovely; and\neven the boatmen (half-a-dozen fine stalwart fellows), mostly teachers,\nwho volunteered to pole the canoe, told me how beautiful it was. But\nit was very dangerous coasting, with the reef close inshore, and large\nbreakers just beyond us. The canoe rolled so that we had to hold on by\nboth hands; and I confess to a malicious feeling of delight when the men\nowned they did not like it, and said they would rather wait for daylight.\nSo we landed close to a tiny village, and made our way by the light of\na lantern to the first house, where we found women, and a fire, and a\nwelcome, but it was so small that we were glad indeed to find a tiny\nchurch close by. Here we had a cup of tea, with old cocoa-nut grated and\nsqueezed instead of cream, and then rigged up mosquito-curtains. It was\nso tiny, that my green plaid hung across the middle just divided it into\ntwo wee rooms; and the doors were so low that we had to stoop double to\ncrawl in.\n\nI woke in time to see a rosy sunrise over the sea, and walked alone along\nthe coast till I found a delicious stream and a real \u201cgreen-room\u201d of\nleaves to dress in. Then we had breakfast on the shore (under palm-trees\nand broad-leaved plantains for a canopy), with the addition of yams and\na fowl, brought by an admiring circle of villagers. And afterwards,\naccording to invariable custom, \u201cfamily\u201d prayers before starting, as we\nalso have at night, wherever we are,\u2014sometimes on the deck, becalmed, in\nperfect moonlight, sometimes on the shore, oftenest in the house where\nwe sleep; but in any case it is always interesting, were it only as a\nsight, when you see these very devout people, and remember how recently\nthey were all cannibals. Even now we have adult baptisms at almost every\nisland we come to. For though the people abjured heathenism _en masse_,\nand placed themselves under instruction, they are only baptised after\ncareful individual training; in some cases not till they have been under\ntuition for four or five years.\n\nHow well this system works you might infer could you see the crowd of\nearnest thoughtful-looking men and women who assemble at Holy Communion.\nLast Sunday the morning congregation was about 600, of whom 250 were\ncommunicants; and in the afternoon the service was repeated at a village\nthree miles off, where there were about 100 more communicants. According\nto native custom, all the women sit on one side and the men on the other.\nThe service is almost a literal translation from the English Prayer-Book\n(it is all Wesleyan here). The elements used are Fijian bread, generally\nof arrowroot and cocoa-nut, and for wine, the very weakest claret\nand water, it being illegal to give a drop of wine or spirits to any\nnative\u2014and the penalty is severe. It is a marvel whereat I never cease to\nwonder, to know what this whole race was, less than twenty years ago, and\nnow to see what a fine race of kindly helpful people they are. I often\nthink of this, when perhaps a dozen of them volunteer to escort me on any\nwalk or scramble I plan, and of their own accord cut or trample my path\nthrough the tall reeds up the steepest hillside, and carefully help me\nover the innumerable streams, which are generally bridged by one slippery\ncocoa-nut stem. Of course my being with the missionary party accounts for\ntheir being all on the alert to be useful. Here, for instance, all the\ntwenty native teachers of the island (we are now on Ngau), and as many\nmore stewards, and a number of lay-preachers and female class-leaders,\nhave assembled for their quarterly meeting, and the place is full of\nthem. The result is an unusual crowd in the house, and a hideous amount\nof eating of yams and pig, in honour of this great occasion. It is all in\nthe way of work, however; and, of course, to the people of these isles\n(where there is not one white resident) the mere pleasure of sitting\nstaring at us, watching us eat and so forth, is a never-ending amusement.\n\nNaturally we sometimes get very much bored by it; and it is a triumphant\nmoment when we contrive to give them the slip, and get away to some\nquiet stream for our bathe, as aforesaid. Sometimes two or three really\npretty girls come with us to show us the way, and help us to scramble\nover the boulders, and then to keep watch that no one else may come near.\nI daresay they themselves manage to get a peep at the strange white\ncreatures; but we watch them in their turn, and the gain is, I fear,\nundoubtedly on their side. Many of them would delight an artist, being\nreally pretty, with lovely figures, only veiled by a short kilt of creamy\nwhite native cloth, and perhaps over that a fringe and necklace of green\nleaves, thrown over one shoulder and under the other. Perhaps they carry\na large fern or plantain-leaf as umbrella, and as they skip over the grey\nboulders every attitude is a picture. To-night I wish them all safe at\nhome.\n\nWe are now at a village called Nougouloa\u2014_i.e._, Black Sand. It is a very\npretty tiny town, circular, with double ramparts and double moats, which\nin these peaceful days are used as _taro_ beds. A very large number of\nthe inhabitants died in the measles\u2014in some instances whole families; and\nthey were buried where they lay, on the foundation of their houses, which\nwere pulled down: and now patches of crimson-leaved drac\u00e6na, growing on\nthe raised terraces, mark these \u201cgraves of a household.\u201d Most of the\nlittle burial-grounds are pretty and well cared for: they are generally\nshaded by the _noko-noko_[33]\u2014a dark, drooping foliage, which just now\nis covered with dainty little pink tassels, like our own larch tree.\nThe great screw-pines, with the odd white pillared roots, are also now\nin blossom, and bear a tuft of very fragrant flowers in a case of white\nleaves.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _Wednesday, May 3._\n\nWe are back at Sawaieke, and to-morrow morning return on board the\nJubilee, taking away several lads as students. All their friends have\ncome to see them off; and at the present moment no less than fourteen\nvisitors of all ages and sexes are lying on the mats like herrings in\na barrel, and have been gazing at us so steadily that at last they are\nfairly mesmerised, and have all fallen asleep, and of course will not\nstir till morning; so we shall have a chorus of grunting and coughing\nall night. The coughs are really dreadful; Mr Langham has to doctor the\npeople right and left,\u2014rather expensive work, and each missionary is only\nallowed 30s. a-year for medical stores!\n\n * * * * *\n\n NASOVA, _May 20_.\n\nI wrote so far before leaving Ngau. We got on board early, and a very\nunpleasant morning it was\u2014raining steadily.\n\nAll the relations came to the shore to weep over the emigrants starting\nfor the Bau Training Institution\u2014a very short day\u2019s sail by canoe. They\nall blubbered freely (great big men), and smelt one another all over!\nUp to this time we had been coasting all about the isles of Koro, Ngau,\nNairai, and Batique\u2014the two former large and very beautiful, reminding\nme much of Ceylon. The mission ship, the Jubilee, took us from isle to\nisle, and then we coasted round from village to village in a canoe. As I\nhave previously told you, each island is surrounded by an outer ring of\ncoral-reef, so there is invariably smooth water right round the island\nwhere you can row or sail in perfect comfort. Of course it is very\ndangerous for the boats, as coral crops up in all manner of unexpected\npatches; and at low tide it is impossible in some places to get along.\nBut at high tide you can always do so; and right round the coast there\nare picturesque villages at intervals of four or five miles, so we halted\nperhaps two nights at all the chief points\u2014having previously sent word\nto the three or four nearest towns to assemble there for church service,\nschool examinations, marriages, and baptisms. Of course there is apt\nto be a certain sameness in these; but as I was not bound to attend\nthem, I often took advantage of the people being all occupied to go off\nfor a quiet bathe or sketch. Many of the open-air services were most\npicturesque, being held under the great trees\u2014sometimes by torchlight;\nand the school-gatherings are very pretty sights\u2014the dresses being so\nfanciful. A large proportion of the scholars read and write well, and are\ngetting on wonderfully with arithmetic,\u2014especially in one village, where\na poor leper, who in early life was trained at the Mission Institute, now\nemploys himself as amateur assistant to the teacher. I have bought two\nvery nice pieces of native cloth, which acted as christening-robes to two\njuveniles; the font was a cocoa-nut shell.\n\nThere is generally a lovely path running right round every island, close\nto the sea-shore, under shadow of large trees with grand foliage, but of\nnames unknown to you.\n\nWe spent May-day at a town called Nawaikama\u2014the Burnt Waters,\u2014because of\nthe hot springs. These are built in artificially, with a low wall, so as\nto confine them and form a warm pool. A beautiful cool stream divides\njust above the springs, and flows right round them; so when you have sat\nin the pool till you are parboiled (and, by the way, it is a very odd\nsensation to feel the hot water gushing up), you can take a plunge, or\nat least lie down and cool in the cold fresh stream close by. It is a\npleasant bath-room, with tall palms for a canopy.\n\n[Illustration: HOT SPRINGS, ISLE NGAU.\n\n_p. 180._]\n\nThe only place where we came in for any interest rather out of the\nhumdrum ordinary of Fijian villages was the little island of Batique,\nwhere it had been impossible to send word of the coming of the great\necclesiastical powers; and as there is no anchorage, and dangerous reefs,\nthe vessel had to beat about outside all the time we were there. So we\nonly stayed one night, and on arriving found the whole town in a fever of\nexcitement (a town is a small moated village), because the young women of\nLevuka had come over by appointment to bring a great present of English\ncloth to the chief, and to the women of Batique. Of course they expected\nmats, and painted cloth, and cocoa-nut oil in return; so all the Batique\ngirls had been working for ages. We arrived just as the presentation\nof goods was about to be made. All the people assembled in the\nmarket-place\u2014a square, overshadowed by great trees on raised banks\u2014and\nthen every woman brought the mat she had made, rolled up so as to show\nits bright edge of worsted (modern substitute for the parrots\u2019 feathers\nof olden days). There were about 200 mats, and a good deal of fine\npainted cloth. After whales\u2019 teeth had been duly presented to the chief,\nthe presents were made, and much feasting ensued. It was a singularly\ninopportune time for the mission work; but as it had to be then or not at\nall, Mr Langham proceeded to hold service in the big square, and when\nthat was over, had his school examination by moonlight and torchlight.\nThe scene was picturesque, though the scholars had no time to make\ntheir usual wreaths and garlands. One pretty feature of such gatherings\nas these is, that at the close of the ceremony all come and lay their\n(superfluous) garments of native cloth and necklaces at the feet of the\nprincipal persons present. I only mean pretty theoretically\u2014for of course\nthe wearers look stripped and shabby after this, but the followers of the\ngreat men assume the garments thus laid down. It was ten o\u2019clock before\nwe left the square and betook us to our quarters in the little church,\nat either end of which we had hung up our curtains. Then we found there\nwas a marriage to celebrate, so Mr L. went on with that in the middle\nof the church, while his wife and I slept the sleep of the weary\u2014slept\nfor a little while, soon to be awakened by the shouts and measured\nhand-clapping (like low thunder) of the crowd, who had again assembled\nin the market-place for a grand _m\u00e9k\u00e9_\u2014dancing and singing\u2014which went\non the livelong night. At last it became so boisterous I thought I must\ngo down and see the fun; so crept near under the shadow of the great\nplantain-leaves\u2014but soon an envious gleam of moonlight revealed my\npresence, which caused some perturbation. I fancied I was less welcome\nthan usual. The dancing I saw was commonplace, and not pretty, so I soon\nwent back to bed. This was the end of my adventures.\n\nNext day found us at Bau, the native capital, where, you know, I have\nalready stayed with the Langhams; and the following morning a favourable\nwind brought me here in three hours (last time I was fourteen hours).\nEverything is fresh and cosy. Already Nasova is like a different\nplace\u2014tidy garden, and pretty things all about, and my own room does\nlook so very nice with all its Fijian decorations. But of the humans,\nI found only Lady Gordon and the chicks, and Baron von H\u00fcgel, the\nothers having gone in three different detachments, with all the native\npolice, to reinforce the camp already established in the great isle; for\nthere has been mischief brewing for long, and at last the wild heathen\nmountaineers, Kai Tholos, have made a descent on several Christian\nvillages, burnt the houses, and murdered the inhabitants\u2014chiefly old men,\nwomen, and children, who had hidden in a cave. The Christians made a good\ndefence, and in one place thoroughly beat the aggressors. It is a nasty\nbusiness anyhow; but we trust it is nearly over now. However, no one can\ntell, and of course every one is anxious.\n\nI return to find that a home worry has arisen. The nice Welsh nurse\nis actually going to marry the Spanish washerman, and as Lady Gordon\nhad not bound her legally to stay, she has no redress! Luckily, Mrs\nAbbey is willing to undertake the place, in addition to her own already\nheavy work, though she has two children of her own. Such an accident is\nreally a serious matter in a place like this, where good servants cannot\npossibly be replaced.\n\nWe have just heard of the total wreck of the steamer Egmont, which\nbrought us here from Sydney. You may remember that she was specially\nchartered to bring the Royal Engineers to this place. Colonel Pratt and\nalmost all his men have gone to Suva to open up a road into the interior\nof the great isle. There seems a fate, however, about the removal of the\ncapital. Nothing can be done till the best harbours have been surveyed;\nand the survey was stopped three months ago, in obedience to an imaginary\nlaw of hurricanes, and the surveying ship Reynard, Captain Dawson, sent\nback to the colonies. Now he returns only to have a relapse of severe\nillness as soon as he enters Fijian waters, and has to go straight away\nagain. But it is time something was done. This place, \u201cin which fever\nand sunstroke are unknown,\u201d is just a sink of low fever\u2014one case after\nanother. Both Dr Cruikshank[34] and Dr Carew have had it very severely.\nThe latter (attached to the Engineers) has been sent to the colonies to\nrecruit. It is said that till three years ago it really was unknown\u2014now\nit is making up for lost time.\n\nSuch a sad thing has just happened here. The captain of the new\nGovernment steamer Fitzroy had five children whom he adored: three\ndied, and he had to leave his delicate wife and two remaining children\nin Sydney. News came that the two last children had died, but he had\none point of comfort in the coming of his wife. He was to meet her at\nKhandavu (where the mails stop, a day\u2019s steam from here). Instead of\nherself, came a letter from the doctor to say she was dying at Sydney.\nThe poor fellow utterly lost his head, left his ship, and went off to\nSydney. Luckily a passenger on board had been in the navy, and managed to\nbring the steamer safely back here, where a new captain has been found.\nWe have just heard that Lady Hackett is very ill with low fever, and are\ngoing off to see her. Really there is no end to the amount of sickness\nhere at present.\n\n * * * * *\n\n FIJI, _May 20, 1876_.\n\nDEAR EISA.\u2014I have just got safe home from my cruise about Koro, Ngau,\nNairai, and Batique. I have one new fern\u2014quite new to Mrs Langham and\nmyself, but Baron von H\u00fcgel knows it, he thinks, in New Zealand. Most of\nthe others, I think, I have already sent; but I think it well to go on\nsending seed[35] in case of previous packets having failed, or mildewed.\nThe latter is the curse of this country, and nowhere is it a more cruel\nfoe than in collecting plants. The Baron tells me he has collected in\nthese isles upwards of 2000 specimens of all sorts of things (vegetable),\nand the mildew has destroyed about four-fifths of the whole!\n\nThis comes home to me with especial force, in attempting to do Miss\nBird\u2019s behest of collecting ferns for her. In any case the pursuit is\nto me a novel one, for I have always steadily set my face against all\nmanner of dried plants, and vowed nothing would ever induce me to have\nanything to do with such. But in obedience to her command, I started the\nlargest portfolio in all Fiji, to enable me to preserve at least small\nsections of the splendid giants which form the glory of these isles\n(but which to my utterly ignorant eye appear identical with those of\nAustralia and New Zealand). But after all, what can the biggest portfolio\ndo when you have to deal with fronds eight or ten feet long by four or\nfive feet wide? You can only preserve a fragment, which gives you no\nnotion of the lovely original. This is especially true of what I call the\numbrella-fern, one frond of which will quite cover a sleeping man lying\ndown full length. However, I did what I could\u2014lugged about this horrid\ngreat portfolio everywhere, full of blotting-paper and drying-paper, and\nmost conscientiously preserved all the loveliest things I could get, I\nnever knew before how long you have to search among the ferns (which\nas a whole look so beautiful) before you can get one quite perfect,\nespecially one in seed. And I invariably found such when we were on some\ndifficult scramble, with enough to do to get along with hands and feet;\nor else when we were hurrying on to catch a tide, with the prospect of a\nlong row in either the canoe or a tiny boat, under a grilling sun; and\ngenerally, on reaching our destination, found the great portfolio and\nother superfluities all gone on board the ship, ready for the morrow\u2019s\nstart. Even when it was there all right, and the last hour of daylight\ndevoted to the attempt to save the half-withered treasures of the day,\nthere was invariably the mortification of finding those of the previous\ndays covered with mildew\u2014often the small fronds fairly dropping off. And\nnow that I have got back again, and look at the result, I find nothing\nbut page after page of smelly mould, with shrunken brown corpses of bits\nof what were once ferns. I only got half-a-dozen sketches on this trip,\nand they are all mildewed. The scenery, however, is lovely. I had hoped\nto have found some ferns collected for me here by one or two people whom\nI had asked to help me, and who had agreed to do so. The majority whom\nI asked at once refused point-blank; others said, \u201cI go, sir,\u201d and went\nnot. All jeered at me, and congratulated me on my undertaking; some said\n\u201cthey had tried it once.\u201d All agreed that the only chance of success is\nto change all the papers at least every other day\u2014a pleasant prospect\ntruly! However, the upshot is that no one has as yet brought me one fern;\nand those I collected with so much care are just a mass of mildew, the\nvery smell of which is sickening. So you must tell Miss Bird, that though\nfor love of her I will stick to the attempt, all I have done so far is\nutterly worthless.\n\nWe have had a son of Mr Veitch, the seedsman, here lately. He worked hard\nat ferns for some months, and though much disappointed at getting nothing\nnew, contrived with infinite trouble to collect many lovely things, all\nof which are now at the bottom of the sea, he having got wrecked on one\nof his expeditions\u2014very trying!\n\nTell your mother I have never yet had a chance of despatching her\npottery, but it is greatly to her advantage, as I have gone on picking\nup bits here and there, and the case now contains nearly double as many\nspecimens as when I first wrote to her. Mail closing\u2014so good-bye.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NASOVA, _June 3_.\n\nIf a heavenly climate, with balmy breezes, could make us happy, we are\nnow enjoying these in perfection; but, alas! we are very down-hearted.\nIt seems as if all our friends were forsaking us. We went yesterday to\nsay good-bye to the Layards, he having been appointed Consul in New\nCaledonia. I shall miss them exceedingly. Their house was always an\nattractive point for a walk, which was invariably rewarded by seeing some\ninteresting specimen of ornithology, or learning some point in natural\nhistory, on which Mr Layard is a first-rate authority. Our last afternoon\ntogether was devoted to an awful and solemn experiment. We resolved that\nwe must bring ourselves to taste B\u00eaches-de-mer soup (you know about\nthe horrible-looking black sea-slugs, so precious to the Chinese, and\nwhich are so largely exported from here?). Well, Mr Layard commissioned\nHoung Lee, a Chinaman living in Levuka, to make a large tureen of this\nsoup, and bring it to his house at luncheon-time. Very dubiously did we\nventure on the first spoonful; on the second still with caution: on the\nthird with avidity. Finally, we forgot all about the hideous slugs, and\nwith one accord returned for a second helping, and agreed that we had\nthoroughly enjoyed our luncheon. Now, alas! all our pleasant experiments\nare over\u2014the big tumble-down old house, with the familiar pier, are\ndeserted; and at this very moment the Layards are in the act of sailing\nout of harbour in H.M.S. Barracouta.\n\nBut grievous beyond expression to Lady Gordon and myself is the fact\nthat the Havelocks have decided on returning to England. You, surrounded\nby friends without number, cannot possibly realise to what an extent we\nshall miss these, our very greatest friends. There has scarcely been a\nday of which we have not spent part together\u2014either we have gone up to\ntheir pretty cottage on the hill, or they have come to us for a pleasant\nchat. And Jack and Nevil are devoted to their dear little Rachel. Well,\nnow it is all over. Already they are beginning preparations for selling\noff their furniture, and their very pretty glass and china,\u2014of course at\na heavy loss; and next month they will sail with Sir William and Lady\nHackett, and all go home together. Our new Chief-Justice, Mr Gorrie, is\nexpected by next mail. He comes from Mauritius.\n\nNow as concerns news since I last wrote. For a fortnight we continued\nhere alone\u2014Baron von H\u00fcgel being our only gentleman. He is \u201cgetting\nup\u201d Fiji, and competes with Sir Arthur and Mr Maudslay for the most\nthoroughly perfect collection of curiosities. All the others were away\nin detachments in the mountains of Viti Levu, where the wild tribes\nare in rebellion. The Governor could not rest so far from the seat of\naction, so went off with Mr Maudslay. We expected them back about the\n16th May, but waited and waited in vain, in much anxiety. At last they\nsteamed quietly in, and came in with the usual calm assumption of nothing\nof the slightest interest having occurred. I hear, however, that they\nran into imminent danger, and escaped by a hair\u2019s-breadth. The Governor\ninsisted on walking across country from Nandi to Nandronga, about forty\nmiles, attended only by Dr Macgregor and about a dozen native police.\nNandronga is a town in the disturbed districts, where Arthur Gordon is\nnow staying. Of course it was a long two days\u2019 march; and the first\nnight, the party halted at a village, without in the least realising\nthat they had run straight to one of the scenes of action. In the houses\nthey found only four or five helpless old men, all the rest having gone\nto fight. A sudden blaze revealed that the enemy had surprised, and were\nin the act of burning, the next village, two miles off, and of course\nthe villagers immediately expected to share the like fate. Great was the\nconsternation; and a council was held by Sir A. and the doctor whether\nto retreat at once, and retrace their steps, or advance many miles to\nthe nearest plantation. Happily they decided to stay where they were,\nthe available handful of men standing sentry round the village the whole\nnight, watching for prowlers coming to burn the reed houses. Evidently\nthe enemy were put off by finding them on the alert; for only one prowler\ncame suddenly on a sentry, and instantly vanished in the darkness. Had\nthey realised what a prize lay within their grasp, I think they would not\nhave let that village escape. At dawn the march was continued\u2014in fear and\ntrembling, however; for it is not pleasant to know that these tribes are\nstill cannibals. Sir Arthur also went himself to the camp at Nasauthoko,\nwhere Captain Knollys and his native police have their headquarters.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NASOVA, _June 9_.\n\nWe had a very curious ceremony here this afternoon. A large body of our\nwild allies have arrived here from Bau on their way to Viti Levu, and\nto-day they came here to report themselves to Sir Arthur, and indulged in\na little _bole bole_, which is a form of ceremonial boasting, to describe\nthe great deeds of prowess they purpose to perform in the war. They are a\nmagnificent body of men; and as they advanced, with blackened faces and\nkilts of long black water-weed like horse-hair, and streamers of white\n_masi_ floating from their arms and knees, brandishing their old Tower\nmuskets, which replace the club of old days, they certainly did look\nmost alarming. They performed a very striking \u201cdevil _m\u00e9k\u00e9_,\u201d with wild\nattitudinising, ending with such unearthly yells as would really have\nmade your blood run cold to hear, and were very suggestive of what these\npeople must have been in old heathen days.\n\nWhen the wild men had received their gift of whales\u2019 teeth, and had gone\noff to feast on turtle and pig, we went on board H.M.S. Pearl, which\nsailed into harbour under full canvas on Monday evening just at sunset.\nThe last time she left this harbour was on the ill-fated expedition to\nSanta Cruz. It is not yet a year since I left Commodore Goodenough\u2019s\nhospitable roof, and watched the Pearl sail out of Sydney harbour,\nbringing Sir Arthur to begin the new life in Fiji. Then came her awful\nreturn. Now we hear that she has been the scene of a series of brilliant\nballs, given by Commodore Hoskyns at Sydney. Verily changes are rapid!\n\nIt was a great pleasure again to meet Captain Hastings and other friends.\nDr Messer has been too ill to come ashore, but to-day he showed me some\nvery interesting sketches of the New Hebrides idols, and other things.\nIn the absence of its new occupant, we ventured to enter the cabin in\nwhich the sailor-martyr died\u2014holy ground indeed. The Pearl sails again\nto-morrow.\n\nI have just been to see Mrs Macgregor. Both she and Mrs Garrick are very\nseriously ill from frightfully ulcerated sore-throat. Captain Stewart,\nR. E., has a sharp attack of fever; and Mr Lake has just been invalided\nto New Zealand. Sir William Hackett is quite laid up, and looks very ill\nindeed; Nevil, too, is very feverish. Altogether we are not in a very\nflourishing condition.\n\nNothing amuses me more than the way in which people from opposite ends of\nthe world are for ever meeting in unexpected places. The last instance I\nhave come across was when two days ago I was sketching near Levuka, and\ntook refuge from a shower at a carpenter\u2019s shop. There I found a very old\nwoman from Perthshire, who discoursed at great length on all members of\nthe Breadalbane family, and the Baillies of Jarviswode, as she remembered\nthem thirty-five years ago. It reminds me of my meeting General Troup in\nIndia, and his telling me he knew all my family intimately. But when we\nfailed to find our topics of common interest altogether fluent, he added,\n\u201cWell, it is fifty years since I have seen any of them!\u201d\n\nI have nothing else of special interest to tell you. History repeats\nitself in so small a community. A considerable number of white men and\nbrown have been dining here. There have been yangona _m\u00e9k\u00e9s_ in the\nmoonlight, with wild songs, which are always attractive to me. We had a\npretty _m\u00e9k\u00e9_, with fanciful dances, in honour of the Queen\u2019s birthday\n(the Maramma Levu, or Great Lady). Jack, the little sailor, has been in\nhis glory with so many ships in harbour\u2014the Sapphire, the Alacrity, and\nthe Pearl. He has had luncheon and tea on board of them all, and is an\nimmense favourite with the blue-jackets. His naval tailor comes, gravely\nto measure him for his tiny garments; and his proudest days are those\nwhen he is allowed to go on board alone with one of the gentlemen. Mrs\nAbbey has planted tree-ferns round Mrs de Ricci\u2019s grave; and there are\nfew days when either her children, or Jack and Nevil, do not carry fresh\nflowers to lay on it. And I have sown scarlet and blue convolvulus, and\nother vines, all over the little headland. Good-bye.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NASOVA, _July 22_.\n\n... Our grievous separation is accomplished. The Havelocks and Hacketts\nstarted for England on the 6th, and, to know how sorely we miss them, you\nmust needs come and live out here\u2014in this country, to which most people\ncome, only to leave it as soon as possible, and which has been accurately\ndescribed as one in which every difficulty in the way of progress exists\nin fullest perfection. Why this should be, I really cannot tell, but it\ncertainly appears to be the case.\n\nThe mountain war continues, and Captain Knollys, as generalissimo, is\npermanently absent; all the other gentlemen come and go incessantly.\nThe new judge, Mr Gorrie, accompanied Sir Arthur on his last trip, just\nto see something of the mountain tribes before they become civilised,\nlike those of the coast. They returned here on the 3d, bringing Arthur\nGordon in the well-earned character of \u201cConquering Hero,\u201d he having, with\na force of 1000 wild men, effectually quelled the disturbance in the\ndistrict under his charge. Next day the Vuni Valu came here to lunch, and\nMaafu to dine. Both were anxious to hear all news of the war, but each\ngreat chief was happier in the absence of the other.\n\nA few days later a very fine body of picked men arrived here from\nTaviuni and Thakaundrove on their way to the scene of action. They did\na war _m\u00e9k\u00e9_ on the green in front of the windows, and repeated the odd\nceremony of \u201cboasting,\u201d which I have described in previous letters. On\nthe 10th, the Governor, Mr Gordon, and his reinforcement of wild men,\nsailed in the Fitzroy to rejoin Captain Knollys, and now we are anxiously\nwaiting for her return to take us across to Suva on a visit to Mrs Joski.\n\n_July 25._\u2014We waited in vain. Yesterday Mr Wilkinson arrived, having\ntravelled five days and nights in an open canoe, to bring a message from\nSir Arthur, who is in the camp at Nasauthoko, to the effect that the\nFitzroy is a total wreck. She struck on a coral-reef near the Singatoke\nriver, having mistaken the entrance into a passage. It was midnight, and\nthe land clouded by much smoke from burning the reeds for clearings.\nCaptain Coxe and his crew have arrived in the two boats. All hands safe;\nbut he, poor fellow, is sorely down-hearted at this mischance, and it\ncertainly is a serious loss to the colony.\n\n_July 28._\u2014A letter from the Langhams to say the Jubilee will call here\nto-morrow, and if I like to go in her to Bau, I can join them in a cruise\nall round Vanua Levu (the Great Land), Taviuni, and other isles. Of\ncourse such a chance is not one to be lost, so I am busy getting ready\nfor the expedition. Probably you will not hear from me till my return.\n\n * * * * *\n\n (Becalmed in mid-ocean\u2014_i.e._, about twenty miles from Taviuni,\n and the same from Vanua Levu.)\n\n _Wednesday, August 2, 1876._\n\nMY DEAR LADY GORDON,\u2014Is not this \u201criling\u201d? To think that we were due in\nTaviuni last Friday, and that we were thence to have taken Mr J., the new\nmissionary, to a great meeting with all the teachers, and office-bearers\nof all sorts, on Vanua Levu (at Nanduri). This meeting is to come off\nto-day: about 150 teachers, &c., and ever so many friends, are there\nassembled, wondering what delays the Jubilee; and here we are, doing the\nAncient Mariner business to perfection, and apparently likely to lie\nwhere we are for an unlimited period. Of course when we do reach Taviuni,\nwe shall not be able to stay there at all,\u2014only just pick up Mr J., and,\nif possible, row along the coast to Wairiki and Somo Somo to fetch a\nnative minister, while the Jubilee beats round the coast. This row will\ngive us a small glimpse of the coast, and so far, is the one redeeming\nfeature of our cruise. It is aggravating to know that if the captain had\nnot wasted all the early morning, the Langhams were ready on Saturday\nto row miles to meet the Jubilee, as soon as she appeared, and start at\nonce for Taviuni. As it was, they sighted us so late in the day, that\nthey decided on waiting till Monday morning, by which time the wind had\nchanged, and we had it right in our teeth. Though we were up at 3 A.M.,\nwe only made Ovalau that day, and were off Nasova at sunset. I wonder\nif you saw us! Last night we were off Savu Savu, and would fain have\nlanded to see the hot springs, but had to tack about remorselessly. Then\ncame the calm; and all night long, we rolled and rolled. Now the rolling\nhas ceased, and we are seesawing idiotically. Two consecutive nights\nhave proved to me that the boards of the deck are undoubtedly hard; and\ntill now Mrs Langham, little Annie Lindsay, and the Fijian girl Penina,\nthe great Johnnie, and I myself, have all been horribly sick. Only Mr\nL. has been well. He is a very kind nurse; and it is quite touching to\nsee how devoted both he and Mrs L. are to little Annie\u2014a bright little\nfive-year-old, full of life and fun, and as fond of them as they are\nof her. She can talk nothing but Fijian, and is a great pet with the\nnatives,\u2014a most joyous little person, on terms of intimate friendship\nwith all the live-stock at Bau\u2014cats, ducks, geese, fowls, and little\npigs. Tell Jack and Nevil the bottles of jujubes and acid drops are a\ngreat success, both with big folk and small. As yet the only excitement\nhas been in feeble attempts at cookery. Yesterday, after a thirty-six\nhours\u2019 course of cold pork and dry bread (not feeling equal to those tins\nof mutton-broth), I bethought me of that long-treasured roll of Brand\u2019s\nbrown soup, which has never left my travelling-bag, and cut up a couple\nof inches in thin slices, and boiled them in the tea-kettle. The result\nwas capital. But in spite of all commands to scour the tea-kettle, it was\nfound this morning thickly coated with brown jelly! Well, this morning we\ntried the first tin of condensed milk. I still think it makes tea nastier\nthan having none, but little Annie and Mr L. like it. Then we thought we\nwould make a mess of it and corn-flour. So Mr L. and I each tried our\nhand at making a bowl. I made mine like arrowroot, without boiling, and\nrather liked it; but his brew failed: so at last he found an old black\npot belonging to the ship, and boiled it up. It looked rather dingy\nand odd, but they all avowed it was better than mine; so we were each\ncontent. The two big pieces of waterproof were very acceptable for our\nbedding.\n\nI have no special Bau news to give you. Everything looked as usual\u2014good\nbloom of roses and jessamine, and fresh sweet air. After morning church,\nI went to see Andi Kuilla, and gave her your message. She could not\nwait to talk then, as it seems they always hold a family prayer-meeting\nimmediately after public service (having previously attended early\nservice). I confess I thought that it showed wonderful powers of\nendurance. In the afternoon we went over to Viwa, where Mr L. held\nservice, the Lindsays having gone to Namena. It is a very pretty place\u2014a\nlovely walk of about a mile to the church; and beyond that the native\ngraves, on a headland edged with big old trees, whose tangled roots twist\nright over the cliff down to the sea. Andi Kuilla came to evening tea,\nand to ask Mr L. for a copy-book, pen, &c., that she might improve her\nhand before writing you a Fijian letter herself. Ratu Timothy also sent\nup for lamp-wicks. There is scarcely an hour of the day that some member\nof the \u201croyal family\u201d does not send up for something or other. I found\nMr L. had arranged that one of the native ministers, Ratu Isaiah, is to\nmeet him on the coast of Viti Levu, about twenty miles from Nananu, and\nis to bring the mail. So I gave him a note to Mr Maudslay, asking him to\nsend my letters also. If I have the luck to be dropped at Nananu, Mr L.\nwill get them sent on. Now I will add no more; for you have no notion how\nhateful it is to write on your lap, holding a big umbrella with one hand,\nand sea-sawing all the time. The faintest little breeze is just springing\nup, and we are beginning to move\u2014almost imperceptibly.\n\n * * * * *\n\n VUNA POINT (NAVACA MISSION-HOUSE), 3 P.M.\n\nJust arrived, by dint of literally _rowing_ the Jubilee the last few\nmiles,\u2014such heavy mist and quiet rain that we could see nothing of the\nisle as we approached\u2014only a vision of very high land and coast-line of\nrich foliage and fields. Instead of beach, coral and black rocks run to\nthe very edge of the land. It seems so strange to see the branches of\nthe trees literally overhanging the coral; and just beyond, the water\nis quite deep. The Lands Commission are living very near: we see their\ntents. Probably we shall walk along the coast so far, after tea, to see\nColonel Pratt and the others. We sleep here, I am glad to say. No time\nfor more. Much love to the bairns.\u2014Ever yours.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII.\n\n TAVIUNI\u2014TUI THAKOW\u2014MISSIONARY PERILS\u2014THEIR FRUIT OF PEACE\u2014RATU\n LALA\u2014RAMBI ISLE\u2014GIPSY LIFE\u2014VANUA LEVU\u2014A MISSION CONFERENCE\u2014THE\n ISLE OF KIA\u2014A VILLAGE FEAST.\n\n\n SOMO SOMO, ISLE TAVIUNI, _August 4_.\n\nWe had a very tedious passage coming here from Bau, but are now repaid\nby finding ourselves on this lovely island, which is generally called\n\u201cthe garden of Fiji,\u201d because of the richness of its vegetation. We have\nseen only a small part of the coast, but that is one lovely tangle of\nnatural foliage, which, seen from the sea, resembles a succession of\ngreen waterfalls, so richly do the vines of every graceful form shroud\nthe great trees and tall ferns. You see I have adopted the word vine in\nits colonial acceptation, to describe all manner of creeping green things\nof the earth.\n\nTaviuni has one disadvantage\u2014it lacks the perfect ring of coral which\nsecures calm water and a sure harbour for most of its neighbours; and\nin stormy weather the shore is swept by heavy seas, unchecked by any\nprotecting barrier-reef. It is about sixty miles in circumference, and is\napparently one great mountain, about 2000 feet high. It is said to be an\nextinct volcano. On its summit lies a great lake which has formed in the\ncrater, and thence descends in a clear stream, which flows into the sea\nat this village.[36]\n\nWe landed at Vuna Point, and were thankful to find ourselves safely\nhoused at the mission station. How we did enjoy a jug of fresh milk\nsent to us by a kind neighbour! The houses of several planters are here\nclustered within a very short distance of one another, making quite a\npleasant little society. We called at several houses, each surrounded\nby orange-trees, scarlet hybiscus, gardenia, and other tropical shrubs,\nwith veils of a tiny scarlet convolvulus; and we passed through a bit\nof the primeval forest\u2014noble old trees with wonderful roots forming\nnatural buttresses. Alas! they are all doomed to destruction. Here, as in\nevery other beautiful corner of the earth which I have ever visited, the\nglories of the natural forest are rapidly vanishing before the planter\u2019s\naxe, to make room for a more profitable, if less interesting vegetation.\n\nIn the evening there was heavy rain, of which, I believe, this green\nisle receives a plentiful allowance. Happily yesterday morning was\nfine, and (while the Jubilee slowly beat up the coast to Wairiki, a\ndistance of twelve miles) we took the boat and rowed close inshore.\nIt was very lovely. Wairiki is one of the few spots in Fiji where the\nRoman Catholic Church has established something of a footing; and it is\nthe home of two French priests, whose care extends to Somo Somo. The\n_lotu katolika_, however, has comparatively few adherents, the people\nin general having a strong preference for what they call the _lotu\nndina_\u2014\u201cthe true religion\u201d\u2014which, however, in this place seemed to be\nin a slovenly condition. We found the house of the native minister so\nunpleasant that we did not care to enter it, but made our way to the\nvery ill-cared-for little church, and had our luncheon brought there,\nas it was raining heavily. We were now in the dominions of the great\nchief Tui Thakow, a very fine specimen of a high chief, second only to\nThakombau, but, unfortunately, much addicted to drinking and other vices.\nThough affording kindly protection to both Catholic priests and Wesleyan\nteachers, he eschews the guidance of either, and scandalises both, by\npursuing his own jovial views of domestic life, and keeping up as large\nan establishment as in the old heathen days\u2014the ladies of his harem being\npractically without limit. His first queen, Andi Eleanor, is at present\nout of favour, and lives at Wairiki in a very picturesque house, of which\nI made a sketch when the rain stopped. She had some enormous bales of\nnative cloth lying in the house. She is still very handsome, as is also\nher son Ratu Lala, whom I often see at Mr Thurston\u2019s house.\n\nIn the afternoon we had a heavy pull, rowing out to the Jubilee, and\nfound her at anchor, the captain objecting to proceed that night, as the\ncoral-patches make navigation dangerous in the dark. This delighted me,\nof course. So after some deliberation it was decided that we should row\non to this place, Somo Somo, about four miles further, taking our food\nand bedding, as we were utterly uncertain where we should sleep, there\nbeing no teacher\u2019s house there. But news of our coming preceded us,\nand on landing we were at once conducted to this very fine large house\nbelonging to Tui Thakow. He himself is absent (supposed to be drunk at a\nneighbouring village), but Andi Luciana, the Fair Rosamond who at present\nfills the position of chief wife, and who is a daughter of Thakombau, did\nthe honours with the innate dignity of her race. She is a fine handsome\nwoman, with a very pleasant face. She is Andi Kuilla\u2019s half-sister. Her\nfirst matrimonial venture was with Koroi Ramundra, at Bau\u2014notwithstanding\nher sister\u2019s warning, she having also tried him in the first instance,\nand found him unendurable. Andi Luciana rued the day too late, but the\nVuni Valu came to the rescue, and divorced her, and then allowed her to\ncome and be prime favourite in Tui Thakow\u2019s harem.\n\nWe went to call on Tui Thakow\u2019s sister, Andi Eliza, a fine hearty old\nlady\u2014the great pillar of the Wesleyan Church in this district. She\ncordially smelt all our hands, sniffing with especial devotion that of\nthe newly-arrived missionary, a man who had never in his life been twenty\nmiles from his own home in Cornwall, when he was appointed to the sole\ncharge of this immense district, where there are vast arrears of lost\nground to be made up. Fifty towns without any teacher at all! For some\ntime there has been no one to undertake the charge of this district,\nand now the Society have sent out the only man they could get, but one\nwho, certainly, is not very likely to impress these keen intelligent\nmen; which is the more to be regretted, as they are so ready to give all\nhonour to their white teacher and his message.\n\nThis is a very pretty place, and after tea we strolled out again to see\nas much of it as we possibly could, first going through the village, and\nthen exploring the valley behind us.\n\nWe lingered a while beside the clear stream, resting under a large\nshaddock-tree, the whole air scented with its fragrant flowers, which are\njust like a very rich orange-blossom, and grow in large clusters. Then\nturning aside beneath the dark shadow of the bread-fruit trees, we sought\nthe grave of Mr Cross\u2014one of the two first missionaries who came to these\nstormy and blood-stained isles.\n\nAs we stood by that grave in the quiet starlight, with scarcely a sound\nfrom the peaceful village to disturb the stillness of night, we could not\nbut think of the strange change that has been wrought in so short a time.\nIt was in 1835 that these two pioneers landed at Lakemba, far away at the\neastern extremity of the group.\n\nTwo years later, the King of Somo Somo (who like the present ruler was\ncalled Tui Thakow) came to Lakemba with his two sons and several hundred\nfollowers. When he saw the knives and hatchets, kettles and pots, which\nthe Lakembans had received as barter for food and work, he immediately\ncoveted possession of the goose which laid such golden eggs, so he urged\nthe mission to come at once and settle at Somo Somo, promising every sort\nof advantage\u2014that all the children should attend school, and that he and\nhis people would give heed to what was taught. The invitation was of\ncourse accepted, though not without qualms, the people of Somo Somo being\nso noted for their excess in every conceivable form of crime, that their\nname was uttered with dread and even horror throughout the group.\n\nUpwards of a year elapsed ere it was possible to comply with the king\u2019s\nrequest, as it was necessary to obtain further supplies of men and stores\nfrom England. (We do not find this rapid work even now, and it was a\nfar more difficult matter in those days.) When, in the face of many\ndifficulties, Mr Hunt and Mr Lyth arrived with their families at Somo\nSomo, hoping for the promised welcome, they found that, beyond being\nallowed the use of a large empty house belonging to the old king, their\npresence was utterly ignored.\n\nThey had scarcely landed when news came that the king\u2019s youngest son,\nRa Mbithi, had been lost at sea; or rather, that his canoe had drifted\nto the isle of Ngau, where, as a matter of course, he was captured and\neaten. Great was the lamentation made for him, and utterly vain were\nthe prayers of the new-comers that the women doomed to death, according\nto custom, might be spared. Sixteen women were forthwith strangled, and\ntheir bodies buried close to the door of the great house in which the\nstrangers were lodged. Then in quick succession they were compelled to\nwitness scenes of cruelty and degradation too deep for words. Deeds of\ndarkest abomination were the familiar sights of everyday life, and the\npeople of Somo Somo proved themselves fully entitled to the character\nthey bore throughout the group, of being the vilest of the vile. Cannibal\nfeasts, attended by wildest orgies, were of constant occurrence, the\nbodies being cooked in ovens close to the house in which Mr Hunt and\nMr Lyth had their quarters; and so great was the offence they gave by\nclosing the doors to try and shut out the revolting scenes, that their\nown lives were endangered, and the king\u2019s son, Tuikilakila, came up\nfuriously, club in hand, threatening to kill Mr Lyth, who had ventured on\nremonstrance.\n\nThere was one awful night in particular, when they believed their doom\nto be decided. There was no thought of defence, for that was quite\nimpossible; but they closed the frail doors, hung up curtains of native\ncloth to hide them from the eyes that peered in through the slight reed\nwall on the great gloomy house, and throughout the long hours of that\nterrible night they knelt in prayer, expecting each moment that the\nsavages would rush in and seal their doom. An awful brooding stillness\nprevailed, which suddenly was broken by a wild ringing yell; but it was\nnot a death-shout. The people had determined to spare the strangers, and\nthe call was an invitation to all the women to come out and dance, which\nthey accordingly did.\n\nScenes such as these marked the early years of the mission. So far from\ngranting the promised protection, the chiefs opposed the work in every\npossible way, forbidding the people to become Christian on pain of death\nand the oven. The ladies and their children dared not leave the close\nhouse in the heart of the town, and their health suffered from the\nconfinement.\n\nAfter a while Mr Lyth\u2019s medical skill brought him into some repute, and\nthe young chief was his first patient,\u2014a man of magnificent stature and\nphysical development. Mr Lyth attended him during a long illness, and had\nthe satisfaction of seeing him recover his health, and also of feeling\nthat he had in a measure won his friendship.\n\nThe old king, too, was seriously ill, and claimed medical aid; but he\nwas not a pleasant patient, as, on the slightest provocation, he would\nseize his club and threaten to kill his doctor, who on one occasion\nfled, leaving his coat-tail in the hand of his interesting patient\u2014a\nloss not easily replaced at Somo Somo! It was at this time (1842) that\nMr Cross came to stay here, to profit by Mr Lyth\u2019s medical skill; but\nit was too late. The constant wearing anxieties of his life, first in\nthe Friendly Islands, and afterwards at Lakemba and Viwa\u2014continually\nstriving and struggling with men fiercer and more degraded than any wild\nbeasts\u2014had utterly worn him out; and he arrived here only to enter into\nhis well-earned rest, leaving a widow and five children. So he was laid\nhere; and some little graves beside him tell of the sorrowing mothers\nwhose little ones died in those sad years. Not long after this came\nthe ceremony of the old king\u2019s death. For some time he had gradually\ngrown more and more feeble; and though a virulent old heathen, and most\ninveterate cannibal, his appearance was so venerable and benevolent, that\nthe mission party had become positively attached to him. Latterly they\nhad begun to acquire a little influence over him, and had succeeded in\nsaving some women from being strangled, and some war-captives from being\nslain for the oven. Several large canoes had also been launched, and\nsuffered to make their first voyage, without the sacrifice of one human\nvictim,\u2014a thing hitherto unprecedented; and though all Christian teaching\nwas strongly opposed, it had not been wholly without result. Twenty-one\npersons had found courage openly to profess themselves converts, one of\nthese being the king\u2019s brother. So there was good reason to hope that the\nold man would be allowed to die a natural death; and the chief anxiety\nof Mr Williams, who had succeeded Mr Hunt as missionary here, was to\nsave the lives of the women. Having left the old king apparently pretty\nwell, he was much startled on hearing next morning that he was dead, and\nthat preparations were being made for his funeral. He hurried back to\nthe house, to find the family in the very act of strangling two veiled\nfigures. Each was surrounded by a company of women, all sitting on the\nground; and on either side of each group a row of eight or ten strong\nmen were hauling a white cord, which was passed round the neck of the\nvictim. Too late to save these, he passed on to look at the dead chief,\nand to his astonishment found him still alive, though his chief wife was\npreparing him for the grave, by covering him with a coat of black powder,\ntying streamers of white native cloth round his arms and legs, a scarlet\nhandkerchief on his head, armlets, and head ornament of small white\ncowries, a necklace of large whales\u2019 teeth, with long curved points, and\nan immense train of new native cloth, arranged in loose folds at his\nfeet. This done, a blast of trumpet-shells was blown by the priests, and\nthe chief priest, in the name of the people, hailed Tuikilakila as king,\nsaying, \u201cThe sun of one king has set, but our king yet lives.\u201d It is the\nFijian rendering of \u201cLe roi est mort; vive le roi!\u201d\n\nSeeing that all pleading for the life of the old chief must be without\navail, Mr Williams had to content himself with praying that the two women\nalready strangled might suffice; and to this the young chief agreed,\nadding that, but for his intercession, all the women present should have\ndied. Those who had already been put to death had been duly decorated,\ntheir faces covered with vermilion, their bodies oiled, and adorned\nwith garlands of leaves and flowers. They were then wrapped in mats,\nand carried to the sea-shore, where they were laid on either end of a\ncanoe. For some reason unexplained, the king might not be carried out by\na common doorway; so the side of his house was broken down, and he too\nwas carried to the canoe, where his queen sat by him, fanning him to keep\noff the flies. She had asked, with well-assumed grief, why she too might\nnot be strangled, but was soothed by being assured that there was no one\npresent of sufficiently high rank to act as her executioner.\n\nSo the funeral procession started for Weilangi, where the chiefs of Somo\nSomo are buried, and the grave having been lined with mats, the two women\nwere laid in it, as grass for the king\u2019s grave; and then he too was laid\ntherein (having first been stripped of his necklace and shell ornaments).\nCloth and mats were heaped over him: and the poor old man was distinctly\nheard coughing while the earth was being heaped on him.\n\nSo died the fierce chief Tui Thakow. A period of ceremonial mourning\nfollowed, when men shaved their heads, and women burnt their bodies and\ncut off their fingers, sixty of which were inserted in hollow reeds,\nand stuck along the eaves of the king\u2019s house, as pleasant and fragrant\ntokens of sympathy.\n\nTuikilakila being now the great and all-powerful chief, his determined\nopposition to the preaching of Christianity made the work of the mission\nalmost hopeless. He publicly repeated his determination to kill and\neat any of the people who should venture to interest themselves in\nthe matter. So after toiling for two years more, in the face of this\nmost disheartening opposition, Mr Williams determined to abandon this\nunfruitful field for a season. He had, however, to escape, almost by\nstratagem, as the mission stores and articles of barter were precious\nin the eyes of the people, who would have kept him prisoner had his\nintention been known.\n\nSo evil continued to run riot unchecked; and Tuikilakila, who had assumed\nthe royal title of Tui Thakow, continued his evil ways till 1854, when he\nwas murdered, while asleep, by his own son. That son was murdered by his\nbrother, to avenge the death of the father, and this brother was himself\nmurdered in his turn. Then civil war broke out; the tribe became divided\nagainst itself; every man\u2019s hand was against his neighbour; and soon the\nland was made desolate, and the town of Somo Somo, once the strongest\npower in Fiji, was left utterly deserted.\n\nNow that peace is established in the land, and that the successor of\nthe old Tui Thakows is responsible to England for the wise government\nof his people, all might be well were it not for the fatal influence of\ndrink,\u2014that curse which the chiefs have so wisely made it a criminal\noffence to supply to their people, but which some of themselves, and this\nnoble-looking fellow above all others, find it impossible to resist.[37]\n\nI send you all this long story just to give you a faint idea of the\nhorrible scenes that formerly made up the simple incidents of daily life\nin this now quiet lovely place; but of course I cannot possibly expect\nyou to realise them, as we do, who are actually on the spot\u2014the more\nso, as my companions have been eyewitnesses of very similar scenes in\ndifferent parts of the group, and have heard all details of these events\nfrom people who actually took part in them,\u2014many of the worst cannibals\nof those days being now useful and devoted Christians; some are even\nteachers and class-leaders.\n\nThe loveliness of the night tempting us to stroll further, we came to an\nold graveyard, and noticed that the fence round it also enclosed a large\nnative house. Here it was that the father of the present Tui Thakow was\nmurdered, and his wife strangled at the funeral. They were buried in the\nhouse, which was then abandoned and rendered _tambu_ (_i.e._, sacred or\nforbidden to touch) to all Fijians.\n\nWe sat for long on a grassy hillock, rejoicing in the clear brilliant\nmoonlight and balmy air, and quite regretted the necessity of sleep.\nAndi Luciana had most kindly given me her own especial corner, with her\nlarge so-called mosquito-curtains of native cloth: I took the precaution\nof hanging up my own, however. A similar screen had been prepared for Mr\nand Mrs Langham, and our hostess had retired with her ladies to sleep in\na large house close by, called her kitchen. I could not help contrasting\nour peaceful night, left in possession of this clean new house, with that\nawful night of dread, when Mrs Lyth and Mrs Hunt, with their little ones,\nwatched through the long hours in the dark, gloomy, old house, waiting\nfor the moment of their massacre. We all slept in peace, and no ill\ndreams disturbed our rest.\n\nThis morning it is raining heavily, to which fact you are indebted for\nthis long letter. A kind white man\u2014I think his name is M\u2019Pherson\u2014has\njust sent us in a bottle of milk, with some nice fresh bread, a pot\nof home-made marmalade, and a large basket of lemons, which are most\nrefreshing on board ship. It is a most acceptable present, and we are\nabout to enjoy our breakfast.\n\n _Extract from the \u2018Fiji Times,\u2019 Wednesday, August 11, 1880._\n\n \u201cINSTALLATION OF RATU LALA.\n\n \u201cThe installation of Ratu Lala as Roko Tui Cakaudrove, in place\n of his father the late Tui Cakau, took place at an early hour\n on Thursday morning last at Somo Somo.\n\n \u201cHis Excellency the Governor landed from H.M.S. Wolverene\n between seven and eight o\u2019clock, and immediately afterwards\n proclamation was made by the Mati ni Vanuas of Cakaudrove that\n the chief was about to be installed; an announcement which\n was met by the beating of all the _lalis_ in the town, and by\n peculiar cries and shouts by the people assembled from within\n their houses, inside which, by immemorial usage, they were\n expected to remain during the ceremony. After these regulation\n cries, the most death-like silence was observed until the close\n of the proceedings. The elders of the province then assembled\n in the large house occupied by the late Tui Cakau, and were all\n carefully seated according to the rank and precedence of each,\n an operation requiring some time. When this was accomplished,\n his Excellency and his staff entered the building and the\n making of _yaqona_ commenced. According to the etiquette on\n these occasions, this was made in silence, without any song\n or _m\u00e9k\u00e9_; and, when made, various set forms of speech and\n response were uttered, the names and deeds of the ancestors of\n the new chief commemorated, and prayers for blessings on the\n people, the fruits, the animals, &c., of the land, pronounced,\n these being almost an exact counterpart of those formerly\n addressed to the heathen gods, but which were now offered to\n the True God and the Holy Spirit. On the conclusion of these\n ceremonies, his Excellency declared the bowl of _yaqona_ just\n taken from the _tanoa_, to be that for the drinking of the \u2018Na\n Turaga ko na Roko Ratu Tui Cakaudrove,\u2019 thereby conferring that\n designation on Ratu Lala, who drank its contents.\n\n \u201cWhen he had done so, the Mati ni Vanua again made\n proclamation, and the same beating of _lalis_ and tumultuous\n shouting which had preceded the commencement of the\n proceedings, was repeated, and the injunction on the people to\n remain within doors removed.\n\n \u201cA dinner was now brought in by the ladies of the place and\n laid before the new Roko Tui, who, according to precedent, ate\n a few mouthfuls. The native ceremonial being thus concluded,\n the more European part of the ceremony began. His Excellency\n took his seat on a raised platform covered with mats and\n _masi_, and the young Roko, rising for the first time during\n the proceedings, and having his long train of black and white\n _masi_, perhaps thirty yards in length, supported by some of\n his followers, approached his Excellency, and sitting before\n him, took the oath of allegiance to the Queen, and one of\n obedience to the Governor, placing his hands within those of\n his Excellency as he did so. The Governor then delivered to\n him the long staff of office, at the same time pronouncing\n these words, \u2018Take with this staff, authority to rule as Roko\n Tui in the province of Cakaudrove. Take heed to the welfare of\n the people submitted to your care. Be to them a father, not a\n taskmaster. Lead them, guide them, teach them; and in all your\n doings remember that strict and solemn account which you must\n one day render at the judgment-seat of God.\u2019\n\n \u201cThe Roko having returned to his seat his Excellency made a\n few brief remarks to those assembled, and the proceedings\n terminated.\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\n NANDURI, THE CHIEF TOWN OF MATHUATA VANUA LEVU, _August 7_.\n\nWe arrived here yesterday. But you will like to hear of our voyage in\ndetail. So to return to Somo Somo. When we went to say good-bye to Andi\nLuciana, we found her, with all her attendants, busily making native\ncloth, as were also most of the women in the town. They are preparing\nfor a great meeting of the chiefs, at which all their finery will\nbe required. However, I succeeded in buying several pieces of very\ndelicately painted _tappa_.\n\nThis great meeting, at which Sir Arthur is to be present, is a topic of\nvast interest. Already four houses, each twelve fathoms long, and tied\nwith the best sinnet, have been built for guests, and there is a special\nhouse for the _kovana_ (governor). Already 150 turtle have been captured,\nand are kept in the turtle-fences, ready for the great festival: so it is\nto be a great event. In one house we found women making coarse pottery,\nbut I was not tempted to add it to my collection.\n\nWe had a long row to the Jubilee, and then made slow progress. All\nthe morning there was hardly a breath stirring; but at noon the wind\nrose sharply, and about 3 P.M. it became so gusty, and the weather\naltogether so threatening, that the captain, not knowing the coast, and\nwisely avoiding unnecessary risk, decided to anchor for the night off\nRambi Island. The water was so deep that we were able to anchor close\nto the shore, in a lovely bay. The island belongs exclusively to two\nplanters\u2014Messrs Dawson and Hill,\u2014and the point where we landed was five\nmiles from their house\u2014that of their overseer occupying a prominent\nposition on a high rock above us. He was, however, absent, and we found\nonly two Tanna men in charge of the place.\n\nA tame cat, however, welcomed us with delight, and never left us\u2014trotting\nbeside us in all our rambles. We found pleasant paths leading through\nfine bush, the foliage very rich, and immense specimens of the\nbird\u2019s-nest fern growing as a parasite on the _pandanus_ and other trees;\nthen passing through a field of maize I gathered and ate half-ripe corn\ncobs, which were excellent\u2014stolen bread being proverbially so: it is a\nbeautiful crop, growing far above my head. Then we went on to inspect\nthe deserted house, which stands on a great mass of brown rock, in the\ncrevices of which grow huge hart\u2019s-tongue and other ferns. It commands a\nlovely view of the bay on either side, but is the flimsiest of all the\nbreezy houses I have seen in Fiji\u2014merely built of open-work reeds\u2014and as\na stiff wind was blowing, we thought we should gain little by sleeping\nin it, so returned to the shore and took possession of a forsaken\nboat-house, where we spread our waterproofs, blankets, and pillows. The\nFijian teachers who accompanied us prepared beds of dried plantain-leaves\nfor themselves, and kindled a great fire on the beach, which they\ncontinually fed with dead palm-leaves to keep up a cheery blaze. There we\nboiled our kettle for tea, and had a cheery meal in the moonlight, and\nthen explored the white sands till we came to picturesque dark rocks,\nencircling a tiny bay, with great trees overhanging the water\u2014a gem of a\nbathing-place. We dare not often venture on sea-bathing, as we never know\nhow close inshore the sharks will venture.\n\nThe night proved stormy, and we rejoiced greatly that we were spending\nit on dry land. The island is about thirty miles in circumference, and\nis chiefly a great cocoa-nut plantation. The nuts are brought from all\nparts of the island to the machinery houses on the beach, below Mr Hill\u2019s\nhouse, where they are broken up, and the kernel dried, either in the sun\nor by steam in the drying-house, by which process it becomes _coppra_;\nand being then packed in bags, is ready for export, to be converted\ninto oil by great crushing-machines. The outer husk is then passed\ninto machines known as \u201cdevils,\u201d by which it is torn up, and the fibre\ncombed out and cleaned, and passed through a screw-press, by which it is\ncompressed into bales, and so prepared for the market, to reappear as\nmats and brushes, and other familiar objects. I wonder how many people,\nas they rub off English mud on such cocoa-mats, ever give a thought\nto the beautiful isles where that fibre was grown, or to the regiment\nof wild, almost naked, savages\u2014the \u201cforeign labour\u201d\u2014who, from one\ncircumstance or another, have each left the far-away isle he calls home,\nto come and work the strange machinery on the white man\u2019s plantation!\n\nAt daybreak, after a hurried breakfast, we left the lovely island\nwith much regret. A strong wind and a heavy sea gave us a rough, wet,\nunpleasant day while we crossed Natewa Bay, off Vanua Levu\u2014thirty miles\nof open sea. Then we once more neared the land, entered the passage of\nNamooka, and were again in smooth water. Oh the blessedness of being\nsafe inside the reef!\u2014the delight of that sudden change from tossing in\nmiserable discomfort on the great waste of unreasoning waters, to the\nperfect repose of gliding over the calm untroubled lake that lies within\nthe mighty coral breakwater which the raging breakers may never overpass!\n\nWe were now coasting close along the shore of Vanua Levu, which at this\npoint is very bare and unfertile, in striking contrast to the luxuriant\nisles we had just left. The whole coast, with its fine mountain-ranges,\nreminded me strongly of Argyleshire, the _noko-noko_ (casurina trees)\ntaking the place of birch. But for some stunted palms, and grotesque\n_pandanus_, we could not have told we were in the tropics; and indeed the\ncold blue-grey foliage of the latter is nowise suggestive of a land of\nsunny influences. Further on, the coast is edged with the glossy green\nof the _tiri_ (mangrove), which always tells of a hateful swampy shore,\nover which the roots of this water-loving tree spread in an inextricable\nnetwork. Hidden in this swamp, swarming with mosquitoes, lies the\ndeserted town of Mota, one of many which have been left desolate, either\nin consequence of intertribal war, or the ravages of the measles. Just\nbefore sunset we came to a lovely uninhabited isle, where we anchored\nfor the night. Determined not to sleep on board the schooner, her cabin\nbeing stuffy, and her deck hard, we went ashore to explore. We landed\non a beach of fine white sand, shadowed by palms and rich hardwood,\nand enclosed by high sandstone cliffs of warm colours: and here we had\nsupper, and hunted for sleeping-quarters. We found an overhanging rock,\njust like the rock-temples of Ceylon, where the sacred images of Buddha\nare carved; and I really thought we looked rather like a row of Buddhas\nas we lay beneath this rock-canopy. What with the calm sea, and the\nmingled light of the red fires and the clear moonlight, glittering on the\ngreat waving palm-leaves, and all the brown teachers cooking their yams,\nit was a most picturesque scene; and the invariable evening prayer and\nsinging acquires deeper interest when one thinks how recently a canoe,\nlanding in such a place, would come in cautiously, not knowing whether\nhidden foes might not be lying in wait to club and eat its crew. The\nmorning and evening family prayer is invariable.\n\nIt was a lovely night, clear and beautiful. At sunrise we embarked,\nand sailed with a fair wind, still keeping close inshore. The scenery\ncontinued to suggest Argyleshire, range beyond range of mountains,\ndetached masses of rock and islands, pretty colouring, but poor\nvegetation\u2014a calm and pleasant sail.\n\nAbout noon we reached this town, Nanduri, which is the capital of this\ndistrict of Mathuata. It is badly situated, being on a muddy shore,\ndensely overgrown with mangrove, but it is very tidy and rather pretty.\nThe quarters prepared for us were a tiny new house, built of coral-lime,\nand nicely matted. This, to the Fijian mind, is the very acme of\narchitecture and foreign art. I confess to infinitely preferring the\npurely native house, with reed or leaf sides, and many doors. Food was\nimmediately brought to us, according to the usual hospitable custom.\nSeveral women each carried a tray of plaited fibre, on which lay pieces\nof green banana-leaf, with yams of different sorts, _taro_, and sweet\npotatoes. Another had a black pot, in which was a fowl, which had been\nboiled with _taro_ tops, making an excellent soup; others had fresh-water\nprawns and small fish; and then came the height of culinary triumph, in\nseveral kinds of pudding with sweet sauce, all tied up in pieces of young\nbanana-leaf, warmed over the fire to make them oil-proof, and looking\nlike little green bags. Then came the formal customary little speeches\nof offering and accepting all these good things\u2014of which we partook, and\nthen went off to call upon the chief.\n\nThe worthy man deemed it necessary quickly to don a shirt, with the tail\nworn outside, over his handsome chief-like drapery of _tappa_. He stood\nfacing us for fully two minutes while he struggled with his buttons, ere\nhe was ready to shake hands and welcome us to his town. Then he took\nus into his house to see his wife, after which ceremony our chief care\nwas, as usual, to find some quiet shady corner where we might enjoy a\nbathe undisturbed. Our quest, however, proved unsatisfactory, the brook\nbeing shallow, and the group of admiring women and children unusually\ninquisitive. No wonder! Two white women were a sight rarely seen; and\none being so tall, the other small, added interest to the spectacle. And\nwhen the pale creatures divested themselves of successive articles of\nraiment, so needlessly numerous, and then took off their boots, revealing\nstockings, and when the stockings gave place to feet many shades paler\nthan the sun-browned face and hands, their curiosity on the subject knew\nno bounds; moreover, we were accompanied by Mrs Langham\u2019s god-daughter, a\nvery fair delicate little girl, whose sunny hair was always a source of\ndelight to the people wherever we stopped. And indeed Mrs L. has herself\nsuch masses of beautiful long silky hair as might well astonish these\nwomen, accustomed from their childhood to have their own crisp locks\ncut within four inches of the head, round which it stands out like a\nhalo\u2014being always of a tawny sienna colour, from the lime with which it\nis so constantly washed.\n\nHaving completed our toilet, we returned to the village, where there\nwas service in a large church, which was crowded with a most devout\ncongregation. Many strangers from surrounding villages were present,\u2014as\nwere also all interested in the teachers, schools and church matters\ngenerally,\u2014to meet the superintendent, and decide certain questions;\nmoreover, the chief was anxious that the annual mission meeting should be\ncelebrated with unusual demonstration. So a very large number of persons\nhad assembled, and many turtle had already been captured for the feast.\n\nI devoted this morning to sketching the curious little jail, a building\nof strong cocoa-nut posts, deeply sunken in the earth, which is dug out\nto make the cell, the earth being heaped up outside, almost to the eaves\nof the wide-thatched roof. It seemed as if the principal and speedy\nresult of imprisonment must be suffocation; but the idea of having a jail\nat all is as novel as a black coat, and as foreign to Fijian custom. A\ncanoe is just starting for some point whence letters are forwarded to\nLevuka, so I must close this.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NANDURI, VANUA LEVU, _Friday, August 11_.\n\nMY DEAR JEAN,\u2014I have already sent Nell a long letter from here, now I\nwill begin one to you, to carry on my story, though I can only write\noccasional fragments, as there are so many interesting things to see\nand do. It was a pleasant surprise in this remote district to find a\ncountryman\u2014Mr Fraser from Nairn, and his wife. They invited us to dine in\ntheir Fijian house, a simple one-roomed cottage, but made pleasant and\nhome-like by a few decorative touches, and by the presence of the young\nmother and her little ones.\n\nThe Langhams being necessarily much absorbed in matters relating to their\nwork, these kind new friends undertook to show me as much as they could\nof the neighbourhood. So first we climbed up a green valley to a village\non the brow of the hill, whence we had a fine view of this \u201cGreat Land\u201d\nas we looked inwards to its mountain-ranges. Here we first found the\nsago-palm with its clusters of small nuts: and also gathered loads of\nlilac orchids. On our way back, looking seawards, we saw quite a fleet of\npicturesque canoes, with great yellow mat-sails, approaching the isle.\nLoud and discordant blasts on their shell-trumpets announced that they\nbrought a large addition to the turtles required for the feast: five or\nsix have been cooked every day since we arrived, a small item in the\nfeeding of so great a multitude. They are cleaned and then baked in their\nshells. The chief also gives one thousand yams and three or four pigs\ndaily. The amount of green fat that has been bestowed on us would have\nrejoiced a true _gourmet_; but his enjoyment would have been alloyed by\nthe fact that the turtle are invariably cooked before presentation, and\nvery badly cooked too, being invariably smoky and insipid.\n\nWe reached the shore just as the canoes were unloading, and in a few\nmoments fifteen large turtle lay on their backs on the grassy bank,\nflapping and gaping piteously. These were an offering to the chief from\nthe new-comers. They have mustered in great force. Fully three thousand\npeople have assembled on this wild coast. They have come from long\ndistances, and from every direction, to attend this meeting of such\nteachers as there are, and to beg that a larger number may be provided.\nThey say that sixty towns are now without teachers. But the difficulty\nis to provide the men fitted for the work, most of the candidates being\nsimply young students, not ripe for such responsible posts.\n\nAbout twelve miles from Nanduri there is a small but very picturesque\nrocky island, called Kia,\u2014a bold mass jutting up from the sea. I longed\nto see it nearer, and the Frasers most kindly agreed to accompany me.\nThe chief lent us his fine large canoe and capital crew, which included\nseveral of his own kinsfolk\u2014stalwart, chief-like men.\n\nWe started soon after sunrise, and a fresh breeze carried us over in a\ncouple of hours. The island is a perfect triumph of careful cultivation.\nBy nature it was only a huge mass of bare rock; but so diligently\nhave its inhabitants filled up every crevice with soil brought from\nthe mainland, that they have succeeded in growing so many palms and\nbananas, that now, when seen from the sea, this once barren rock\nappears positively fertile. We landed at a village where the chief was\nsuperintending the finishing of a huge mat canoe sail, which was spread\nupon the ground in the cool shadow of a group of old trees. Of course\nwe had to go through the form of being received in the house; but on\nexpressing a wish to breakfast beside the sea, we were invited to sit on\nthe mat-sail, and allowed to be happy in our own way.\n\nI only wish it were possible to convey to you all the impressions of\ndelight of such a day as this\u2014all the thousand details of beauty, which\ngive such light and gladness to the life I find so fascinating, though\nit sounds so dry and dead when I try to put it into words. Just try if\nyou can, ever so faintly, realise the picture. A calm glittering blue\nsea, white coral sands sparkling in the sunlight, ourselves in deep cool\nshade of dense glossy foliage, whence bunches of rosy silky tassels float\ndown with every breath of air, as playthings for tiny brown children\nin lightest raiment. And then the multitude of wandering shells, each\ntenanted by a shy hermit crab, assembling cautiously round us to gather\nup stray crumbs. Close by are the graves of successive generations of\nthese hardy fishers, who have lived and died on this tiny isle, without\nan aspiration beyond it. Now the graves are overgrown with tangles of the\nmarine convolvulus with lilac blossom, while the starry white convolvulus\nhangs in light drapery from the rocks beyond. And beyond the sea rise the\nblue mountain-ranges of Vanua Levu, in ever-changing light and shadow.\n\nMrs Fraser had brought her two little ones with her; so she decided to\nspend the day at this quiet spot, while her husband accompanied me on a\nwalk round the island. Her perfect knowledge of the language makes her\nthoroughly at home with all these kindly people. So we started on our\nwalk, which we found practicable, except at one point, where, the cliffs\nbeing precipitous, and the tide having risen, I had to accept the offer\nof a strong native to carry me round a headland to the next bay. He took\nme up in his arms like a big baby, and though forced to confess that I\nwas _bimbi sara_\u2014_i.e._, very heavy\u2014he carried me ever so far round in\nthe sea!\n\nWe visited each of the four quaint little villages, and entered\ninnumerable houses, searching for baskets of a particular kind only made\nhere. In this quest we were tolerably successful, and stayed some time\nto watch the women weaving them with dexterous fingers: they are of\nvery fine fibre and most intricate pattern. Of course we were objects\nof mutual interest, and the astonishment of the people at our sudden\nappearance knew no bounds. I doubt whether any of these people had ever\nseen a white woman before\u2014Mrs Fraser\u2019s presence, even at Nanduri, being\npurely accidental (her husband having just been appointed to superintend\nthe formation of the new district gardens, by the produce of which every\ndistrict is henceforth to pay its taxes).\n\nWe succeeded in buying some interesting specimens of old manufactures,\ncarved bowls, and stone axes, then turned aside to visit some most poetic\nburial-grounds. One of them haunts me still, it was so peaceful\u2014a lonely\ngrassy headland, with half-a-dozen graves, strewn with red or white\ncoral, and shadowed by one palm. It was sheltered by great red cliffs,\nand beyond it lay the calm wide ocean bathed in glittering light. I\nwould fain have lingered to sketch the scene, but we had to hurry on as\nfast as we could possibly walk. Such a scramble! As it was, we found on\nour return that the wind had changed, and we could not return to the\nmainland that night. At first we insisted on starting, and actually\nembarked, but we saw that the crew wore really afraid of danger, so\nof course we yielded and came ashore again, when the kind islanders\nbrought us a capital supper. The people are all fishers, and a canoe-load\nof rainbow-coloured fish\u2014some pure scarlet, some vivid green, some\nsilvery\u2014had just been brought in, as also many crabs.\n\nMost mothers would have been somewhat perturbed at such a _contretemps_;\nbut Mrs Fraser took it quite calmly, and the people provided us with fine\nmats, and as a matter of course conducted us to the _vale ni lotu_ (the\nhouse of religion), where we slept undisturbed\u2014my big sun-hat acting\nas my pillow. But after a while I awoke, and crept out into the clear\nmoonlight, and sat alone on the silent shore, drinking in the delicious\nnight breeze.\n\nTowards morning it blew pretty hard, but at sunrise Mr Fraser got a small\ncanoe to enable me to reach a cliff which I wished to sketch; but the\ncanoe was so tiny, and the sea so rough, that it was on the verge of\nswamping. We therefore landed, and walked as far as was possible. Then\nI got in alone, and the boatman, a \u2019cute, sturdy little fellow, half\npaddled, half swam, while I rapidly made my drawing.\n\nWe walked back, found breakfast ready, and once more embarked. The fine\ncanoe flew before the wind, cutting through the water beautifully, of\ncourse shipping seas and involving much bailing out\u2014a process which is\nsometimes done with a wooden scoop, but more frequently by throwing out\nthe water with the sole of the foot, using it like a hand. It needed\nhalf-a-dozen tacks to bring us to land; and each of these, in a canoe of\nthis size, involves serious labour, as the base of the heavy triangular\nsail must be lifted by main force, and carried to the opposite end of the\ncanoe by the combined strength of several men.\n\nOn the way a bit of the great mat-sail came unsewn, and the men in charge\n(themselves high caste) were in such terror of arriving with anything\nwrong that we ran in behind the mangroves to sew it up ere they would\nventure to go on, as they dared not face the chief with anything out of\norder. This, his own canoe, is the only one which dares approach Nanduri\nwith sail up and flag flying, and as he was not on board, even we dipped\nthe flag as we drew near, the flag being a streamer of _masi_. All other\ncanoes must lower their sail while at a considerable distance, and row to\nshore, as a mark of deep respect.\n\nWe called on the chief to thank him for the loan of his canoe, and found\nhis people dispensing food to their guests on rather an extensive scale\nof entertainment. The business part of the meeting was nearly over,\nand the people were all arriving for the solevu, or great feast of the\nmorrow. In the evening there was singing, and some dancing by torchlight,\nbut no Fijian cares to dance much till the moon rises, and that was not\ndue before midnight.\n\nNext morning many more canoes arrived\u2014such a pretty bustling scene; and\nas it would be rash to put on festal array before landing, all the best\ncloth and garlands came in baskets, and the whole shore was one great\ndressing-room, where the mysteries of the toilet were carried on in the\nsight of the sun. The weather was greatly in our favour, for though heavy\nclouds hung threateningly over us they merely shielded us from the sun,\nand no rain fell.\n\nSoon after breakfast we all went to the _rara_ (_i.e._, village green),\nwhere we were invited to sit beside the Roko (the chief, Tui Ndreketi).\n\nThe principal business of the day was an exchange of presents. First\nof all the teachers and their special followers gave gifts of cloth\nand whales\u2019 teeth to the great chief. So the six native ministers and\nabout sixty teachers advanced, dressed up in many extra yards of native\ncloth, beautifully designed, and trailing on the ground in trains many\nyards long. Then followed people from other towns, also dressed up. They\ndanced pretty dances, and all shook off their fine drapery at the feet of\nthe chief\u2014an example followed by the grave teachers, who made a pretty\nspeech, formally presenting the _tappa_ to the Roko, and then retreated\nmuch shorn. The cloth made two great heaps, which the chief divided next\nmorning among his followers. This giving took the whole morning.\n\n[Illustration: A CHIEF\u2019S KITCHEN.\n\n_p. 208._]\n\nAfter lunch came what I may call the offertory, as every one brought\naccording to his ability for the furtherance and support of Christian\nwork. We now found our places set on the other side of the village green;\nlest it might seem as if the offerings now to be made were to the chief\ninstead of the mission. First 1000 women advanced single file, each\nbringing a mat, or a bunch of live crabs, or dried fish, or a basket of\nyams\u2014one brought a ludicrous roast parrot; then as many men came up,\nbringing six or eight large turtle, seven or eight live pigs, fowls,\nyams, palm-cloth, &c. One tiny child brought a large cock in his arms.\nHe was such a jolly little chap\u2014well oiled, with scarlet _sulu_ (kilt)\nof turkey-red, and white native cloth, and quaint, partially shaven\nhead\u2014they shave in such odd patterns, leaving little tufts and curls.\nThen followed all the usual very graceful dances, which I have so often\ndescribed, and some new ones, in which every dancer carried a dried fish,\nlet into a piece of a split cocoa-palm leaf, and waved it fan-like,\njust to mark them as fishers. Everywhere we note the same wonderful\nflexibility and marvellous time kept in most intricate ballet-figures.\nBut coarse sticks take the place of the old carved clubs, and some\nungraceful traces of British trade appear. Here one man was dressed in a\nlarge union-jack pocket-handkerchief! and a woman wore the foot and stalk\nof a broken wine-glass as an ear-ring! The people appear to be very poor,\nand less tasteful in making their necklace-garlands and kilts. At sunset\nthere was a pause, and then Mr Langham gave the multitude what seemed to\nbe a most impressive little address, and a few minutes later the whole\n3000 were kneeling prostrate on the grass. It was a very striking scene,\nremembering that these people are only just emerging from heathenism;\nbut they are so very cordial to the mission, and so anxious to be\ntaught, it seems hard that there should be such difficulty in getting\nnative teachers trained, and this is greatly owing to the lack of white\nmissionaries.\n\nTo-night there is a dance by torchlight, which will become fast and\nfurious when the moon rises. Already the people are having a right merry\ntime. I have just been out with Mrs Langham for a little turn; but her\nhusband was unable to come with us, and we did not like to mix much in so\nlarge a crowd, or indeed to be seen there, not knowing whether the dances\nmight be such as we should seem to sanction. But it is wonderful, when\nyou come to think of it, that two ladies and a little child should be\nable to go about at all, on such a night, among 3000 wild people, as yet\nso utterly untaught. But those who did notice us were all most courteous,\nand I am glad to have had even a glimpse of this wild weird scene, which,\nwith its accompaniment of shouts, yells, and measured hand-clapping,\nis the most savage thing I have yet witnessed. Now we are back in our\nown coral-lime house. Mr Langham has just married a couple, and is now\nbusy with his teachers. We leave this place to-morrow morning. It is a\nmost hospitable district, and sufficiently uncivilised even for me! This\nmorning a horrible old ex-cannibal crept close to Mr Langham, and then,\nas if he could not refrain, he put out his hand and stroked him down the\nthigh, licking his lips, and exclaiming with delight, \u201cOh, but you are\nnice and fat!\u201d\n\n * * * * *\n\n ON BOARD THE JUBILEE, OFF NEIVAKA POINT, _August 13._\n\nWe are lying at anchor here, and the others have gone ashore to hold\nservice. I would fain go and bathe in the lovely little stream, but\nas such a proceeding would divide the attractions, and might diminish\nthe congregation, I had better have a chat with you instead. We left\nNanduri yesterday morning, after an incredible amount of hand-shaking,\nand \u201clove-giving,\u201d as the Christian Fijians say\u2014_Sa loloma_ being their\nkindly greeting to us. They also have a graceful form of farewell,\nexactly answering to the \u201cA demain,\u201d \u201cAu revoir,\u201d \u201cA rivederla,\u201d or \u201cAuf\nWiedersehen,\u201d of nations nearer home. When we say, _Sa lakki mothe_,\nwhich means \u201cgo to sleep,\u201d they reply, _Roa roa_, \u201cto-morrow morning,\u201d\nmeaning we shall meet again soon. Very pretty is their word for the\ntwilight, _luma luma_, which just answers to our _gloaming_.\n\nI told you about our last evening at Nanduri.\n\nIn the early morning all the mats, cloth, &c., presented to the mission\nwere brought in and divided. I, as a visitor, was presented with a live\nturtle, a whale\u2019s tooth, and four mats, also a basket and some fans from\nthe chief\u2019s wife. And when the pile of native cloth presented to the\nchief had been divided among his followers, I was able to buy some very\nbeautiful specimens.\n\nHaving formally taken leave of the Roko and his family, we embarked,\nleaving Mathuata with very pleasant impressions of the hearty genial\nkindness of its people. The day was lovely, and we were able to sail all\nthe way inside the reef, so there was the double advantage of being in\nsmooth water and seeing the coast to perfection. For the tropics, it is\nvery barren, _pandanus_ and _noko-noko_ being the principal foliage. At\nthis season the people in all parts of the isles have an annual burning\nof the tall reeds to clear the land for their plantations. The smoky haze\ngives a rich lurid colour to the atmosphere, and deepens the blue of the\nnear mountains, while it blends the distant ranges in soft dreamy lights.\n\nWe arrived here at sunset last night. Neivaka Point is a grand rocky\nheadland, with a very pretty village, on a palm-fringed shore, with a\nclear stream, which here flows into the sea. We went ashore for an hour\nor so, but as we have to push on early this morning, it was decided that\nwe must sleep on board. So we all lay on deck in the bright starlight,\nand towards morning there was clear moonlight, and then a lovely sunrise.\nI see the boat coming off from the shore, so we shall soon be under way.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX.\n\n THE CHIEF OF MBUA\u2014FEUDAL RIGHTS\u2014A NIGHT IN A MISERABLE\n VILLAGE\u2014CHURCH _A LA_ ST COLUMBA\u2014NIGHT ON A DESERT ISLE\u2014SAVU\n SAVU\u2014BOILING SPRINGS\u2014THEIR USE\u2014PAST AND FUTURE.\n\n\n NI SONI SONI, VANUA LEVU, _August 16_.\n\nWe are resting in great peace in a large clean church, built of\ncoral-lime. It stands apart from the village, on a grassy spit of land,\ndivided from the sea-beach only by a border of Fijian lilies\u2014overhead are\ntall cocoa-palms. It is a calm pleasant spot, and we hope for a night of\npeace and rest, of which we stand sorely in need.\n\nWe hoped to have reached Mbua about noon on the 13th, but we had\nseventeen miles to make in a head-wind, so it was near sunset ere we\nanchored in the bay, after which we had to row three miles up the river,\nwhich, like the Rewa, has several mouths, and we tried the wrong one\nfirst, and rowed a considerable distance up a fine stream, dense with\n_tiri_ (mangrove) on either side. Then, retracing our ground, we made a\nfresh start for the town; but by this time it was so dark that we could\nonly discern dark palms against the sky, and had to shout to people on\nthe shore to learn our way.\n\nOn reaching the mission station we found the inmates absent, but the\nstudents lighted up the house, and prepared tea and milk; and soon a kind\nneighbour (Miss Wilkinson) brought us a welcome gift of fresh butter and\nbread. I regret to say her father is suffering seriously from internal\ncramp, brought on by long exposure in the canoe coming to Nasova with the\nnews of the wreck of the Fitzroy.\n\nA wild storm beat up in the night, and we were thankful to be on land.\nThe country round is bleak and barren; but heavy rain-clouds and mists\nglorified the very shapeless ranges of hills, and suggested parts of\nScotland.\n\nIn the morning we called on the chief, Tui Mbua, a middle-aged man,\nwith a pleasant-looking wife. Not long ago his favourite son committed\nsuicide, in his rage at finding his father\u2019s laws enforced against some\nof his peccadilloes, as if he had been a _kai-see_ (_i.e._, of low\nbirth). Such very great laxity is allowed to chiefs by the feudal system\n(which always has prevailed in these isles, and is likely in a great\nmeasure to be continued), that it really must be difficult for a man\nalways to stop at the exact point where a chief\u2019s right becomes wrong.\n\nThere is a system in force called _lala_, by which a chief may claim\nfrom his people whatever service or property is required for any public\nwork affecting the good and honour of the tribe. This is considered\nright and proper, and his commands are willingly obeyed. But the system\nis liable to great abuse, being constantly called into action merely\nto gratify some whim or personal pleasure of a chief\u2014as, for instance,\nwhen he covets some expensive article, and his people have to raise the\npayment. This abuse is called _vaka saurara_\u2014_i.e._, \u201ctaking by force,\u201d\nand is simply an oppressive form of levying black-mail. A common instance\nof the way in which this is done is when a chief (or more probably his\nson) starts on a journey with a party of his retainers, perhaps several\ncanoe-loads of people (in former days they would all have been armed\nmen). Perhaps they are going to some great feast (a _solevu_ or exchange\nof property), to which they must carry some offerings, expecting to\nreceive a good exchange, each district bringing its own produce. They\nprobably start literally empty-handed; but at every village where they\nhalt, they demand not only food but gifts, and a Fijian thinks it\nshameful to refuse to give anything for which he is asked. So these\nrolling stones disprove the old proverb, for they gather as they go,\nand reach the _solevu_ well provided\u2014their progress along the coast\nbeing marked by every manner of evil; for they regard neither rights\nof property nor domestic ties, but are simply a curse to the quiet\nhard-working villagers. They have only to see and covet any man\u2019s goods,\nand straightway appropriate them.\n\nI believe the system, in its true and legitimate working, is considered\nboth wise and good. It is apparently the only way to get a semi-civilised\nrace to work well together for the good of the tribe; and it is a custom\nwhich, from time immemorial, has existed throughout the group, being\nthe tribute rendered by the people at the bidding of their chief, to be\nrepaid by protection and by a fair share of all goods acquired by the\ntribe. It applies to planting gardens, making roads, building houses and\ncanoes, fishing for turtle, or any other work requiring combined action.\nPeople even from other districts may be summoned, and in return for their\nwork receive daily food, and presents of cloth and whales\u2019 teeth on their\ndeparture. Thus work is done quickly and well which would otherwise be\nimpossible.\n\nSuppose a great canoe has to be built. All the best carpenters in the\ntribe are _lava\u2019d_, and the fittings of the canoe are _lavaka\u2019d_ from\nevery village in the chief\u2019s district. Each is required to furnish so\nmany fathoms of narrow matting to make the great mat-sails. This is\nprovided by the women of the village. Ropes, sails, tackling, and all\nthe different fittings, are also thus provided. So is the food for the\ncarpenters. Then when the new canoe is finished, the people must prepare\na great feast at every place where it calls. When one great chief visits\nanother, food is _lavaka\u2019d_ for the entertainment of the strangers; and I\nam told that this occasions frightful waste, as each chief tries to outdo\nwhat others have done, that he may appear liberal before his guests. So\nthese visits sometimes leave whole districts in a state of famine.\n\nWe heard sore complaints in this district of the chief\u2019s exactions of\ncompulsory \u201cpresents\u201d from the very poor villages hereabouts. A short\ntime ago he ordered all the people from far and near to assemble and\nbring him 40,000 yams, 700 mats, and every man a whale\u2019s tooth, each of\nwhich represents upwards of a shilling in value, but _means_ far more.\nIt symbolises goodwill; and the giving of a whale\u2019s tooth accompanies\nevery action of the smallest importance\u2014from asking for forgiveness, or\nclaiming the clubbing of a foe, or bringing in his body. Well, of course,\nmany of these poor men had not got a whale\u2019s tooth, so they had to go and\nbeg for them from their friends. One canoe which started on this quest\nwas upset, and six men drowned. Two of them left tiny babies, who were\nbrought to be christened at the most wretched of all the villages we have\nseen\u2014one from which you could not conceive it possible to wish to extort\nthe value of a pin. But it struck me that this great chief was far more\ninclined to receive than to give. After witnessing the generosity of\nthe Mathuata chief, I was much amused when this man, with considerable\nformality, presented ten cocoa-nuts for the use of the teachers and crew\nof the Jubilee, being, I understand, his sole offering to the mission\nfor the year. Evidently we have left the unsophisticated regions, and\nreturned to those where white influence prevails!\n\nReturning on board, we found the wind was dead against us, and after\nvainly beating in great misery for several hours, we had to anchor for\nthe night within sight of the Wilkinson\u2019s house, and sorely regretted not\nhaving taken their advice to stay where we were. We had a hateful evening\nand night; and as the cabin was unendurable, there was nothing for it but\nto lie on deck in the rain and get soaked, which we did most thoroughly.\n\nWe tried a fresh start in the morning, but there was still a head-wind\nand rain; and everything was so saturated and miserable, that it was\nresolved to anchor off the first village we came to. This proved to be\nNamau, a filthy village in the mangrove-swamp, poorer and more miserable\nthan any place where we have yet been. The people looked diseased from\nsheer poverty, and we scarcely liked to enter their houses, but we were\ndriven to desperation by the longing to try and dry our clothes; and\ntheir kindness and hospitality knew no bounds. They seemed delighted to\nwelcome us to their poor homes, and heaped up blazing fires to dry us\nand all our goods. The fireplaces (as I have told you, when speaking of\nother isles) are placed wherever fancy prompts\u2014just a sunken oblong,\nanywhere on the floor, with a few rounded stones, on which rest the large\nearthenware cooking-pots. Very picturesque!\n\nWe divided ourselves among the different houses, and our goods were\nscattered all over the village; but everything, to the smallest trifle,\nwas brought safely back, and a few small gifts were received with wonder\nand delight. The (very meagre) contents of my travelling-bag were gazed\nat with much interest, especially some photographs of sacred subjects\nin one of my books. They all called one another to look at and discuss\nthese; one of the Crucifixion, Mary at the foot of the Cross, chiefly\nriveting their attention. I often wonder, considering how many of our\nown impressions of sacred things are due to pictures seen in early\nlife, that their use is so entirely neglected in all these schools. It\nmay be because the supply is not forthcoming. Certainly these highly\nimaginative people have always shown themselves wonderfully capable of\nrealising things unseen; and even in their days of most gross idolatry,\ntheir religion was entirely an appeal to the imagination\u2014wild legends\nof the gods, told in song, but very rarely reduced to the visible form\nof any idol. The only pictures I have seen in any native houses are\nportraits of (I think) Holloway, whose advertisements are duly sent to\nall native ministers in the group. The literature is of course thrown\naway on them, but the portraits, sometimes several in a row, ornament\nsome prominent pillar.\n\nAs soon as we were moderately dry, we settled ourselves for the\nnight in the wretched little church, which is a miserable spot, with\nmangrove-swamp all round it. It is the tiniest little building of\nwicker-work\u2014quite a St Columba style of architecture,[38] wattle without\nthe daub; and the rainy wind blew through it, and the mosquitoes took\nrefuge in it. We had a weary night. Being very tired, we all hoped for a\ngood night\u2019s rest, but had hardly fallen asleep when a cheerful brother\nmissionary, in aggravating health and spirits, chanced to anchor at a\nneighbouring village, and in his delight at hearing his friends were so\nnear, he came over and woke us all, and kept the gentlemen talking the\nwhole night. Pleasant for Mrs L. and myself, who were vainly striving to\nsleep! At early dawn the two little orphan babies I told you about were\nbrought to be christened, so we had to hurry over our dressing, and for\nonce were right glad to return on board ship. How any human beings can\ndeliberately build their villages in these mangrove-swamps passes my\ncomprehension. It simply means living in the mud, with salt or brackish\nwater on every side, and mosquitoes in myriads.\n\nOur quarters to-night seem strangely luxurious, and I must profit by them\nand sleep now,\u2014so good night.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _August 17._\n\nAfter all, I did not sleep long, for I woke to see such lovely moonlight\nthat I crept out of my corner made of mats and my old green plaid, and\nwent out to sit alone by the brink of the great waters, and watched the\nearliest lights before dawn. Now all are astir, and we are just starting.\n\n * * * * *\n\n CAPTAIN BARRACK\u2019S HOUSE, SAVU SAVU, VANUA LEVU, _August 22, 1876_.\n\nI have been here for some days greatly enjoying the blessings of the\nland, and this most lovely scenery. We left Ni Soni Soni at dawn on the\n17th, purposing to make the isle of Taviuni, but finding the wind fair\nfor Levuka, steered for that port. Another change of wind put a stop to\nthat, and we could make but little way. After a weary day of beating,\nwe succeeded in nearing the small uninhabited isle of Namena. Tempted\nby the lovely foliage which overhung the white sands and drooped right\nover the water, we landed in search of some shelter which might act as\nsleeping-quarters. After a long hunt, during which I cut my boots to\npieces on the rocky coral shore, we found a slightly projecting rock\u2014a\npoor shelter, but better than the hard deck. So we brought our mats\nand pillows ashore and made nests for ourselves by the light of the\nblazing fires at which the students did their cooking. Of course they\nwere as much delighted as ourselves to escape the night on board, and\ntheir presence lent human interest to the scene, as they gathered in\npicturesque groups round the fires, or knelt together in evening prayer.\nThe night proved tolerably fine, only a few heavy showers, which shot off\nthe rock just past our toes, so we were quite dry. And you know in these\nfavoured isles we have no fear of snakes or other noxious creatures; so\nwe slept in peace, knowing that nothing more hurtful than a wandering\ncrab could possibly assail us, and that he would run off in great fear\nthe moment he discovered what strange beings had invaded his isle.\n\nOnce more we embarked at dawn, and the wind blew us straight to this\nport, which I exceedingly longed to see, but our destination was Taviuni;\nso, much to my disgust, we tacked with the intention of crossing thither.\nFor several hours we battled with the breeze\u2014weary hours of tossing\nand sickness. We lost our main-topmast; and at last, finding that the\nwind had driven us back to this desired haven, it was resolved that the\nLanghams and myself should come ashore, and the vessel go on to Taviuni\nwith such of the party as were thither bound, and return for us. So an\nhour later I found myself under this hospitable roof; but the Langhams\nmake it a rule always to live in native towns, in order to be amongst the\npeople. How I do revel in a fresh clean room all to myself, and abundance\nof new milk and scones!\n\nThis place has a special interest on account of its boiling springs,\u2014not\nthat they are striking in themselves, but because there are so few places\nin the group where any trace of such phenomena is found. I have seen no\nother boiling springs except those at Ngau, but I hear there are some at\nLoma Loma, and there is a hot stream in Viti Levu called Wai Mbasanga.\nHere, too, occasional shocks of earthquake suggest that volcanic action\nis only dormant and may reawaken some day. The springs are quite boiling,\nbut (as was the case of those we saw on the isle of Ngau) a stream of\ncold water flows close to them, and the people save themselves the\ntrouble of getting firewood by boiling all their food in the springs.\nThey take their crabs, bunches of bananas, yams or _taro_, wrap them up\nin banana-leaves and deposit them in the boiling spring; then they go and\nbathe some way off where the hot and cold streams have mixed, and return\nto find their dinner ready cooked. The water tastes utterly disgusting\nand very salt, but the food boiled in it is excellent; and the people\nwho bathe here are free from many diseases. There are springs all along\nthe shore for half a mile, just at high-water mark. The three principal\nones bubble up in a circle like a small crater. They are intermittent,\nand the highest makes a fountain about two or three feet high. There used\nto be about fifteen springs in this circle, and the people came from\nfar and near to cook their food, especially if they had any _bodies_ to\nboil. But in 1863 Tui Wainoonoo, a neighbouring chief, came and besieged\nthe large strongly fortified town of Eroi further up the lake. He could\nnot take it, and raised the siege just when the defenders were reduced\nto starvation, having only a few lemons for food. He, however, captured\nsixteen men, and Ramasi-Alewa, the old lady to whom the springs belonged.\nShe was past seventy, and must have been very tough and smoke-dried;\nbut as in her young days she had been a regular Joan of Arc, leading\nher tribe to battle, and herself fighting hand to hand with a hatchet,\nhe determined to eat her. So he had her cooked with the sixteen men,\nand made a great feast; and then, to spite the people, before leaving\nthe district, he attempted to choke up all the springs\u2014in which amiable\neffort he partially succeeded.\n\nThese springs were also a favourite place for depositing all superfluous\nbabies, especially girls, who never got much of a welcome. They were\npopped in alive like so many lobsters, and treated with quite as little\nceremony. I am told that there is an intermittent cold spring on a\nconical hill on the opposite side of the harbour. Some of the hot springs\nbubble up through the salt water below high-water mark.[39]\n\nI think Savu Savu is about the prettiest place I have yet seen. The\nharbour is so entirely enclosed by great hills that it is simply a salt\nlake, dotted with many isles, all richly wooded\u2014too richly, for they are\nin consequence haunted by a plague of mosquitoes. Dr Mayo, who, you will\nremember, was one of our party coming out, has such a conviction that the\nhot springs will become important in course of time, that he has bought\none of these pretty islands and built himself a house on it. It is not\nyet finished, and he is obliged to live at Khandavu as quarantine medical\nofficer, much to his disgust, as his object in coming to Fiji was the\nhope of gaining large experience of native races. He brought out as his\nassistant a college servant, who lives by himself on the island and takes\ngreat charge of everything. I have just been across to see the unfinished\nhouse and tastefully planned shrubberies of foreign plants; but the\nisland is infested by hordes of such vicious mosquitoes that I was fairly\ndriven away.\n\nOf course we have made expeditions to all parts of the lovely lake,\nbeginning with the native town of Eroi, to see the fortified hill which\nwas so bravely defended. It is surrounded by very deep ditches, and\nonly accessible by a very narrow path overgrown with dense vines. The\nthatched roofs of the village are half hidden by tall bananas and scarlet\nhybiscus, orange and lemon trees: the latter are of the prickly sort,\nwhich was planted near many fortifications as a natural defence. Another\nday we sailed across the bay to visit friends who there own a large\nplantation. Here we saw something of sugar-growing, sugar-crushing, and\nrum-distilling; also fields of splendid pine-apples\u2014by far the finest\nwe have seen in the isles. Turtles and pine-apples in abundance sound\nwell, do they not? But I fear they do not compensate for lack of beef and\nmutton, and many another ordinary comfort.\n\nI find that Captain Barrack is just sending a little schooner across\nto Levuka, so I shall despatch this long journal to catch the mail. I\nonly wish it might give any of you a thousandth part of the amusement\nwhich I have derived from the actual trip, notwithstanding all the\ndiscomforts.\u2014Your loving sister.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX.\n\n NASOVA\u2014THE MOUNTAIN WAR\u2014A YEAR\u2019S PROGRESS\u2014FIJIAN HOMAGE.\n\n\n NASOVA, _August 24, 1876_.\n\nDEAREST EISA,\u2014Here I am once more safely back from a long cruise in the\nwilds, of which I have sent a full account to Jean. Our last halt was at\nSavu Savu\u2014a lovely bay, which I left with great regret, resisting several\ncordial invitations to visit kind neighbours there. We started yesterday\nmorning at dawn, but found the sails needed some repairs; so we waited\nfive hours at the mouth of the harbour, and whiled away the time by\ninspecting the old buildings and machinery of a deserted plantation\u2014the\nheavy cocoa-nut crushers and other expensive plant, now standing idle and\nuseless\u2014always a pitiful sight.\n\nWe embarked in the afternoon and had a head-wind, which has been our evil\nfortune for every bit of open sea we have had on this cruise. Verily I\nam sick of sailing vessels! We had a wretched night\u2014tossing about and\nlying on the very hard deck not venturing to unfasten pillows or plaids,\nfrom momentary expectation of shipping seas and downpours of rain. I\nconfess it made me wish many times that I had stayed at the head of\nexquisite Savu Savu bay, which, they say, scarcely shows a ripple even\nwhen a hurricane sweeps the land. At daybreak this morning we were off\nthe isle of Koro, and arrived here about breakfast-time to find that Lady\nGordon and the children are at Suva, and that Arthur Gordon has returned\nfrom the mountain-war very seriously ill\u2014from gastric, or maybe typhoid,\nfever. The war itself has just been brought to a very satisfactory\nconclusion, marking one bright point in Fijian history\u2014the first since\nannexation; and it has all been settled quietly, without any sort of fuss.\n\nThe Governor, Captain Knollys, Mr Maudslay, and Baron von H\u00fcgel, arrived\nlast night. On their return from the mountains they had gone to Suva to\nsee Lady Gordon, but were summoned here when Mr Gordon\u2019s illness was\nfound to be so serious. Happily, Mrs Abbey and her husband are both\nexcellent nurses, and Abelak and the other Hindoo valet are most neat and\npatient attendants. Of course Dr Macgregor is here, and himself had the\ndifficult task of conveying his patient all the way from the mountains,\nwhere the fever first developed itself, owing, we suppose, to exposure\nand want of proper food.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _Wednesday, Sept. 13._\n\nEverything continues much as when I last wrote to you. Lady Gordon and\nthe children are still at Suva, staying with Mrs Joski. Of course they\nmust not return here just yet, though Mr Gordon is decidedly on the\nmend, and to day was able to walk into the drawing-room with slight help\nfrom Abbey; but he was very soon utterly tired out. Baron von H\u00fcgel is\nbusy making an illustrated catalogue of his huge collection of Fijian\n_curios_, and I have been helping him a little, and also working up the\nsketches I got on my last cruise while they are still fresh in my mind.\nOur time on land was so cruelly short in proportion to that which we\nspent in misery on the sea, that I generally had to content myself with\nmaking very elaborate pencil-drawings with notes of colour, and these I\nam now working out.\n\nA terribly sad thing has just happened here, and cast quite a gloom over\nthe town. Do you remember my telling you, just after our arrival here, of\nthe marriage of a very popular girl to a young planter? A few days ago\nshe became a happy mother, and all seemed well; but things went wrong,\nand she died yesterday. Her husband, supposing all danger to be over,\nhad gone on business to another isle, and returned by the steamer this\nmorning. All the flags in harbour and in the town were hung half mast\nduring the funeral; and when the captain hailed the nearest vessel to\nask who was dead, the poor fellow heard his wife\u2019s name shouted back in\nanswer.\n\nI have just been to see Mrs Macgregor in her new house. She is the only\none of all our sisterhood of last year still remaining in Fiji. Her new\nhouse is, unfortunately, a good deal further from Nasova than the one she\nhas hitherto had; but it is convenient for the Doctor, being close to the\npretty little hospital, which is generally very full. I am sure you will\nbe amused to hear that the Doctor has enlisted my services in quite a new\nbranch of art. He is busy studying some curious skin diseases peculiar to\ncertain of the imported labour, which gives the patient the appearance\nof being clad in moir\u00e9-antique, with a white watered pattern on a dark\nground. Of these patterns he has made various rough drawings, which he\nhas now set me to elaborate.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _September 16._\n\nColonel Pratt has just been here to call, looking very ill. He has had a\nlong spell of work at Suva with his Engineers, getting the land surveyed\nand the new road begun, which involves being out a great deal in a\nblazing sun, and is exceedingly trying.\n\nSir Arthur rejoined Lady Gordon at Suva in the beginning of the month,\nCaptain Knollys escorting him. The latter returned here two days ago, in\na deluge of rain, having been four days coming from Suva, beating against\na head-wind. Of course his boat was only provisioned fully for one day,\nso he and his men had very short commons for the last three days.\n\nMr Gordon continues to improve very slowly, but we hope surely. The\nDoctor says that so soon as he can be moved, he must go to New Zealand\nfor change of air. Our parson, Mr Floyd, is also going there next week.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _September 22._\n\nLast Monday Captain Knollys started for Suva, in the Governor\u2019s beautiful\nnew barge, which is a very handsome yet simple sixteen-oar boat, built\nfor him in Sydney. It was built on the principle of the landlord who\ncharged one of the Georges a guinea for a fresh egg,\u2014not because eggs\nwere scarce, but because kings are so. In this instance Fijian governors\nare scarce; and so, having ordered a boat worth about \u00a3300, Sir Arthur\nis justly indignant at receiving one charged \u00a3750, and apparently he can\nget no redress. Rather too hard, considering how scarce money is in this\ncolony.\n\nThe barge returned last night, bringing Sir Arthur and Lady Gordon and\nthe children, who look all the better for their change of air. This house\nis really beginning to look quite cosy and home-like, and we all quite\nenjoy coming back to it from our various wanderings. Nevertheless I am\nalready preparing for another start, as Captain Knollys offers me the\nloan of his nice new boat (his yacht, we call it); and it seems a good\nopportunity of paying my long-talked-of visit to Mrs Leefe at Nananu. So,\nif all is well, my next letter will be from her house.\n\n * * * * *\n\nWAR LETTER.\n\n NASOVA, _September 12, 1876_.\n\nDEAR GEORGE,\u2014You ask for some details of the war with the mountain\ntribes. I wish you were here to hear about it yourself from Captain\nKnollys and Dr Macgregor, who have been giving me most thrilling accounts\nof some of their adventures.\n\nMr Gordon got through his work sooner than the others, and returned\nhere on the 3d of July, apparently in perfect health, and in very\nhigh spirits. He then returned to the seat of war, and joined Captain\nKnollys in the mountains, where they had some very rough and exhausting\nwork in routing the enemy out of caves where they had taken refuge.\nThis was satisfactorily done, and then, what with bad and insufficient\nfood, and exposure, Mr Gordon utterly broke down: he had to be carried\nall the way to the coast,\u2014four days\u2019 very difficult march up and down\nsteep mountain-paths, crossing and recrossing rivers and streams, and\nenduring great hardships. On the second day they were compelled to march\nthirty-six miles, and had to cross streams thirty-one times, &c., the\nSingatoko river eighteen times, and another stream thirteen times,\u2014very\nexhausting and difficult work. At last a small steamer arrived to bring\nback the troops; and so he was brought here, and has ever since been very\ndangerously ill with low typhoid fever. However, he is now beginning to\nmend, and we hope ere long to see him as well as ever.\n\nWell now, to tell you as far as I can in detail. You know that soon after\nannexation, when the mountain tribes were only half inclined to accept\nEnglish rule, and still less friendly to the _lotu_ (Christianity), the\nisles were swept by the terrible scourge of measles, which they assumed\nto be a judgment from their insulted gods. They therefore \u201cthrew off\nthe cloth,\u201d which is a formula for expressing that, by returning to\ntotal nakedness, they utterly defy the _matanitu_ or Government, and the\n_lotu_: they also allowed their hair to grow to the fullest-sized mop;\nand having thus resumed the part of heathen warriors or _tevoro_\u2014_i.e._,\ndevils\u2014they proceeded, on April 12, 1876, to attack and burn the\nChristian villages of Nandi and Nandronga, and ate sundry women. They\nalso attacked several Christian villages on the banks of the Singatoko\nriver; but here the marauders were repulsed, and their own villages\nburned. They then attacked a village in the mountains, the people of\nwhich were Christians, and had supplied food to the Government forces.\nThe villagers, old men, women, and children, took refuge in a cave,\nwhere the cannibals soon followed, guarding the entrances, and firing on\nthem at intervals during the night. In the morning a party of friendly\nnatives and police (or, as the people still call them, _sotiers_\u2014_i.e._,\nsoldiers) came to the rescue, and routed the _tevoro_.\n\nSir Arthur was from the beginning anxious to avoid anything like a\ncollision between white men and brown, and was therefore determined,\nif possible, to treat this disturbance as a police question, without\nrequiring any aid from English troops. He was confident, moreover,\nthat with the assistance of friendly chiefs, the matter could be\nsatisfactorily settled, and that, too, at very small cost, before troops\ncould even arrive from the colonies or elsewhere; so he resolved to\ndispense with all red tape\u2014an article which only appeared on the scene\nonce, and that in a rarely useful capacity, when Mr Maudslay, sorely\npuzzled how the Governor\u2019s body-guard could carry their ammunition, being\nclad in short kilts, with neither pockets nor belts, instructed them how\nto make belts with bits of canvas, sewed with red tape, which was happily\nfound in the Governor\u2019s despatch-box. That was on a special occasion,\nwhen Sir Arthur (determined to see everything for himself) insisted on\nvisiting the mountains in person, accompanied by Mr Maudslay. Before\nstarting on a march of some danger, it occurred to Mr Maudslay to examine\nthe arms of the guard. They consisted of most rotten old muskets. He says\nhe carefully avoided firing one himself, but happily no accident occurred\nin testing them.\n\nIt certainly is a marvel that no lives were lost from the use of such\nweapons\u2014rusty old flint-lock or percussion-cap muskets, which had been\nlying by in store for many years, all more or less decayed: and these\nwere in the hands of men accustomed to wield only spears and clubs. I\nthink Captain Knollys\u2019 force had only twenty Snider rifles, and a scanty\nsupply of ammunition for even these, which were the backbone of the\nforce. As to the old Tower muskets, some even of those selected as being\nthe best, proved useless on reaching fighting-ground. A considerable\namount of tiring was always necessary to clear the bush round any place\nwhere they encamped, to frighten lurking foes.\n\nWhen it was found that a collision with the Kai Tholos was inevitable,\nSir Arthur sent to all the friendly chiefs to ask each for a small\ndetachment of picked men. Double or treble the number asked for were\nsent, and a magnificent body of men was thus mustered, all eager for the\nfray. One body of 150 men from Bau came to Nasova to report themselves\nto the Governor before starting for the seat of war. All had their faces\nblackened to prevent the sun from blistering them\u2014and savage indeed is\nthe effect of this hideous cosmetic. They were almost all dressed alike\nin drapery of white _tappa_, and the _liku_ (fringe kilt) of black glossy\nwater-weed, like horse-hair: they had streamers of _tappa_ floating from\ntheir arms and head. All were armed with old Tower muskets. They marched\non to the _rara_\u2014the green lawn before the house\u2014and there performed the\nwildest devil _m\u00e9k\u00e9_, ending with unearthly yells. It was a very striking\nscene. Then they advanced, two or three at a time, throwing themselves\ninto wild attitudes, brandishing their weapons, which formerly would have\nbeen spears or clubs, and trying who could make the most valiant boast\nconcerning his intended prowess.[40] One cried, \u201cI go to the mountains;\nmy feet shall eat grass.\u201d This was to express his eager speed. Another:\n\u201cI long to be gone; I crave to meet the foe. You need not fear; here is\nyour safeguard.\u201d \u201cThis is only a musket,\u201d cried another, flourishing\nhis weapon; \u201cbut _I_ carry it.\u201d Said the next: \u201cWe go to war, what\nhinders that we _fill all the ovens_?\u201d (I fear that man hankered after\nthe flesh-pots of Fiji!) Another, holding up his musket, cried, \u201cThis\nis the bridge over which you English shall pass into the mountains.\u201d\n\u201cWhy do you white men cry out? _We_ go to the mountains, and will bruise\neven the rocks.\u201d The second company came up stately, and only one acted\nspokesman. \u201cThis is Bau, that is enough.\u201d Others gambolled about,\nextolling their (imaginary) club by name, as in olden days. When each had\nhad his say, one advanced with a green twig, which he laid at the feet\nof the Governor\u2019s native aide-de-camp. Then Mr Wilkinson made a little\nspeech for the Governor, and a gift of symbolical whales\u2019 teeth, which\nthe messenger received crouching, and carried them to the corps, who also\ncrouched low to receive them. Two huge turtles and other good food were\nthen given, that they might feast before re-embarking on the Government\nsteamer which carried them to the seat of war.\n\nNearly the whole force of native police had already been despatched to\nthe mountains, where a permanent camp had for some time been established\nat Nasauthoko, on the Singatoko river, in the western half of Viti Levu.\nMr Gordon did a sketch of this camp, showing two circular camps, each\ncontaining about a dozen native houses inside a fence of reeds on an\nearthen wall, then a ditch, and a second and third palisade. This stands\non a small piece of level ground, about 2000 feet above the sea, and\nsurrounded by hills of about 5000 feet. Round this the police force had\nmade large gardens, extending to the river, where they raise yam, _taro_,\nand bananas for food.\n\nThe Governor appointed Captain Knollys commander-in-chief of the police\nand all these irregular forces, with Mr Gordon and Mr Le Hunte as\nsub-generals. Messrs Carew, Wilkinson, and Hefferman accompanied them as\ninterpreters, being all men thoroughly acquainted with the chiefs and\nthe people. Dr Macgregor was surgeon to the forces. The little army was\ndivided into three bodies, whose common object was to prevent the enemy\nfrom reaching the great forests near the Singatoko, where they would\nhave been very dangerous neighbours to the Christian tribes, and very\ndifficult to dislodge.\n\nThe contingent of which Mr Gordon had command, consisted of 1200\nundisciplined undrilled men of different tribes, each accustomed to\nrender implicit obedience to their own chief only; and all those\nchiefs were jealous one of another, and always on the alert to scent\nout slights. Mr Gordon says his principal work consisted not so much\nin ordering details of fighting, as in taking a general direction,\nand preserving friendly relations between these chiefs, and smoothing\ntheir suspicions one of another. His task was rapidly and successfully\naccomplished. After sundry strongholds had been stormed and captured,\nseveral villages burned, and a considerable number of firearms seized,\nthe cannibal tribes on the Singatoko surrendered, and 848 prisoners\nwere taken. Of these, thirty-seven were known murderers, and were tried\nas such; thirty-five were found guilty, and of these, fourteen were\nsummarily and most deservedly executed\u2014the Governor being present to\nsanction the proceedings, and confirm the sentences: nine were shot and\nfive hung. Their mode of death was regulated by the degree of their\nguilt, the worst criminals being accounted those who were actually\nreceiving pay from the English Government, at the same time as they were\nin league with the cannibals. The prisoners were all distributed among\nfriendly villages, where for a while they will have to work as labourers,\ntill it is judged safe to let them return to their own districts. Once\nthey have yielded themselves prisoners, they never dream of escaping\u2014that\nwould be contrary to the Fijian code of honour; so they merely require a\nnominal guard. This was in the latter part of June.\n\nMeanwhile Captain Knollys was greatly astonishing the foe in his district\nby sparing their growing crops, which was quite a new idea in Fijian\nwarfare (where hitherto the first aim of an enemy had been to ravage\nthe land, cut down the bread-fruit and banana trees, and burn the\nvillages). He says the people at one place, Nambutautau, fortified their\ntown by digging pit-falls in the long grass, and in these they placed\nsharp-pointed, bamboos, ready to impale the unwary! The mountain-towns\nare perched in all sorts of nooks, among great boulders of rock, or\nhidden in clumps of bushes, or in cliffs of the rock. It is a country\nfortified by nature, having precipitous crags honeycombed with caves,\nand clothed with dense forest. The natives throw up earth-works and\nbamboo fences further to strengthen their intrenchments. Sundry of these\nrock-fortresses were places of very great strength, but were nevertheless\nsurprised and captured.\n\nI think Mr Le Hunte was chiefly in charge of the camp at Nasauthoko,\nwhich was a less exciting post, but one equally essential to the success\nof the whole.\n\nAbout July 10th, Captain Knollys learnt that a party of the cannibals\nhad retreated to a certain valley. Dr Macgregor was with him, and they\nstarted in pursuit with about 200 men. They halted for supper, then\nwaited till the moon rose\u2014the men whiling away the time with quaint\nboasting, such as I have already described. Then came a difficult\nnight-march through the forest, crossing streams and deep gorges.\nAt daybreak they reached the Naindua caves, where huge boulders of\nconglomerate rock have fallen in, so as effectually to conceal the\nentrance. The whole valley is a network of caves, with a river flowing\nat the bottom of the gorge. The _tevoro_ (devils) were firing from many\nhidden crevices, their presence only betrayed by an occasional puff of\nsmoke. They were, however, driven out, and ten men and sixty women and\nchildren captured. It was found that some of the worst men had only\nreturned from Levuka a couple of weeks previously. They had been working\nfor white men on a plantation in Taviuni, so that process does not appear\nto be necessarily an improving one.\n\nA nicely roasted human leg was lying on a mat, with cooked _taro_, neatly\nlaid out for breakfast for the devil priest, or rather priest of the\n_vatu kalou_\u2014_i.e._, war-god. This old _bete_\u2014_i.e._, priest\u2014was hideous\nto look upon,\u2014a noted cannibal and excessive drinker of _yangona_, the\nresult of which was that his skin was whitish, and he had become a sort\nof albino. Very disgusting he was, and yet his devotion to his son, a\nsickly lad, was so pathetic, that his captors were really touched by it.\nHe was taken in the act of escaping from his appetising breakfast, which\nhe doubtless sorely regretted, and which received decent burial.\n\nIn the promiscuous firing that followed, several wounded men fell over\nthe cliffs into the river. As a party retreated, routed, one man,\nthinking himself beyond the reach of fire, could not resist a little\nbravado, and coming to a dead halt, he proceeded, with all the dandyism\nof a feast-day, to arrange the long folds of white _tappa_ which floated\nin airy drapery, while he waved his great war-fan and challenged the foe,\n_Vaka viti_ (Fiji fashion), to come and be eaten, and he would roast them\nall. Dr Macgregor took a deliberate aim with his Snider rifle at 600\nyards, and, greatly to his own amazement, hit the astonished man, who\nfled wounded in the left arm. A week later he was captured, and became\ngreat friends with the Doctor, who naturally took especial interest in\nhealing the wounds of his own production.\n\nThe Doctor\u2019s work has greatly astonished the cannibals, who marvel to\nsee a man tending and healing his foes. He has taught them a new name\nfor his profession, declaring himself much aggrieved at being called\n\u201ccarpenter of death,\u201d when he is truly a \u201cman of life;\u201d so the Fijian\ndictionary owes him a new word. He performed one very difficult operation\nquite alone, in presence of a wondering crowd. It was necessary to\namputate the leg of one of the prisoners, so he made such preparations\nas were possible, and commenced operations, when, as he was in the act\nof administering chloroform (_wai ni mothe_, the water of sleep), he\nperceived that his assistant was quite drunk. It was necessary to have\nhim at once forcibly removed, and the only other white man in the place\nwas Mr Gordon, who was very ill with fever. So here he found himself\nalone with the patient under chloroform, surrounded by a great circle\nof wild auxiliary tribes, all well accustomed to cut up human limbs for\nthe larder, but wholly unable to understand the present proceeding. It\nwas a difficult position. The operation must be performed, or certain\ndeath was inevitable; so he proceeded with a most difficult task, which\nhappily proved quite successful, and the amazement of the spectators knew\nno bounds. The grateful patient, on recovering, demanded that the Doctor,\nwho had deprived him of a leg, should supply a new one, and insisted on\nhis keeping him into the bargain![41]\n\nOne very sad incident in the cave-warfare was the death of a poor little\ngirl aged seven, who was accidentally shot through the heart.\n\nThe next places from which the foe had to be dislodged were the\nNaquaquatambua caves, which are a nest of large caves round a deep\nhollow\u2014naturally a very strong post, and further fortified by the\ninmates. The entrance to the principal cave is by a cleft in the rock,\nnot more than six feet wide, though perhaps twenty in height, and well\nconcealed by the network of roots of a great _Mbaka_ (Fiji banyan), the\ninterstices of the roots being filled up with rock-work, so as to form\nan outer wall, with loop-holes, through which to fire at assailants.\nWithin is a large high cave in which were stored guns, ammunition, and\nprovisions\u2014yams, pigs, and _yangona_; while in an inner cave, beside a\nstream of water, were enormous stores of yams, whales\u2019 teeth, _masi_,\nabundant firewood, and all things needful to hold out for a long siege.\nFrom the principal cave low passages lead to other caves, and these again\nhave outlets; and all these were carefully concealed and well fortified:\nsome could only be entered on hands and knees.\n\nAltogether the post was one which might have been held for ever, and when\nfirst the little Christian army was descried, on the hill facing them,\nthe _tevoro_ amused themselves by a little of the usual boasting; but it\nseems their hearts failed them, for ere long a chief came out with a\n_soro_ (_i.e._, an atonement offering). This was refused, so he returned\nto the cave, and presently reappeared at the head of twenty-four men,\nvowing that only the women and one old man remained within. However,\nthere was reason to believe that there were many more, and Captain\nKnollys explored as far as he dared venture; but as many of the caves\ncould only be approached by crawling on hands and knees through low\npassages, and as the enemy occasionally fired from hidden openings, it\nwas necessary to wait in patience. At last one man, who said he was the\nchief of the caves, declared he would come out in the morning, but not\ntill then. Captain Knollys told him he must not come out, whereupon, from\nsheer spirit of opposition, out he came!\n\nA friendly chief, called Rovobokolo, was appointed to guard one cave\nfull of people. He did so for two days and nights, but did not at all\nappreciate being fired at by unseen foes; so by a happy inspiration he\nsuddenly cried out to bid them escape for their lives, as the _sotiers_\n(soldiers) had effected an entrance, and were about to fire into them.\nThis was a pure romance, but it had the desired effect of bringing\nthe foe to light. Forthwith they rushed out, and were of course taken\nprisoners\u2014in all sixty-one men, and a great many women and children.\n\nThere still remained a third set of caves at Nunuwai. It was, I think,\non the 23d of July that the besieging force reached them. They lie along\nthe bed of a stream, in a deep gulch, heavily wooded, quite filled\nup by great boulders fallen from above, and forming caves, only to\nbe reached by crawling through crevices. These are innumerable, each\nforming a loop-hole through which a hidden foe could safely fire out upon\nassailants; consequently several of these were killed, only discovering\ntheir danger by a sudden flash from some hidden loop-hole. It was just as\nunpleasant a place to have to storm as you can possibly imagine.\n\nHappily the _tevoro_ appeared to be divided in their own minds, and,\nafter much parley, one party agreed to surrender, but wished to bring\ntheir women with them\u2014and these were in an inner cave, which could only\nbe reached by diving through the water, under a rock, but each time their\nheads rose from the water the non-surrender party received them with\nlevelled guns. They then expressed their determination to die in the\ncaves, but after two days Captain Knollys hit on the odd expedient of\nenlisting some of the prisoners already taken as his allies, by promising\nthem easier terms than they had any right to expect. So these entered the\ncaves, and held long parley with the besieged, persuading about half of\nthem to surrender. As the remainder still held out, they took up their\nquarters in the cave for the night, and amused themselves by blowing a\nwar-shell, which so affected the delicate nerves of the _tevoro_ that\nthey craved permission to come out\u2014a permission which was withheld till\nmorning, in order to enhance its value. Amongst other relics, Captain\nKnollys found the bones of one of his scouts, who had been killed some\ntime previously: he had been cooked and his bones picked clean. About\nfifty men were here captured, and the most grievous criminals having\nbeen tried again in presence of the Governor, six were most deservedly\nexecuted, and the rest condemned to various terms of imprisonment or\nservitude in the villages of the allies, where they are sure of very kind\ntreatment.\n\nOf course the judicial part of this business was the most trying to all\nconcerned; but for once, I believe that all parties here are of one mind\nin agreeing that the executions were positively necessary, and a most\nwise measure. In every instance the man executed was either a notorious\nmurderer of the worst type, or else a deserter from Government service,\nactually drawing Government pay. It is believed that this example once\nset will deter future malcontents from trying this little game again,\nand that much bloodshed will thus be averted, and a source of perpetual\ndanger entirely extinguished. On the other hand, the leniency shown to\nthe mass of the prisoners, the care of the wounded by skilled hands, with\nall medical appliances, are a wholly new, and to them incomprehensible,\nphase of British warfare.\n\nOur people (the Christians) were wonderfully quick in practising the\nmercy commanded; and though they keep up the old wild dances and songs\nround the body of each fallen foe as they bring him in, there has been\nno tendency to make a _bokolo_ of him, except in one instance, when one\nof the wildest of the friendly tribes (our allies) brought to Captain\nKnollys\u2019 camp the body of a hostile chief just slain, and after much\npalaver (being very hungry) craved permission to eat him. Of course this\nwas peremptorily refused, and immediate burial ordered. But when Captain\nKnollys sent a company of his own men in the morning to see that it\nhad been done properly, they found the body barely a foot deep, which\nallowed room for just a suspicion that some hungry men were waiting for a\nconvenient season to dig it up. Of course the foe had no scruples on the\nsubject, and I fear they had several hearty meals at the expense of the\nassailants.\n\nIt is fortunate they did not find out how short of provisions the\nbesiegers were, for at one time their commissariat was at such a low\nebb that for two whole days they had nothing to eat but a few taro-tops\nwhich they had the good luck to find\u2014taro-tops being something like\nold turnip-tops and leaves. This, while the enemy had abundant stores\nof provisions! It is wonderful too, that, intrenched as they were in a\nseries of positions, each of which was practically impregnable, they\nshould have yielded so readily; and marvellously fortunate, too, that so\nfew of their stray shots should have done any damage. The only white man\ntouched was Dr Macgregor, who received a slight wound near the corner of\nthe eye, which happily was not serious.\n\nThere have been many most picturesque incidents in this little war. To\nbegin with, there is the way in which the warriors march to battle, as if\ngoing to a dance, with scouts running on ahead of them fluttering large\ngrass or palm-leaf fans, adorned with long streamers or ribbons like a\nHighlander\u2019s bagpipes, only made of native cloth. With these they pretend\nto sweep away any hidden foes who may be lying in ambush.\n\nThen, too, is it not wonderful to think of what a war in this country\nhas hitherto meant, and the appalling horrors involved? And now to think\nthat, among all these so-called savage warriors, none should have in\nany way brought discredit on their character of chivalrous Christian\nsoldiers. On the contrary, each body of men brought its own chaplain; and\nin all the excitement of a struggle with hereditary foes, which but a few\nyears ago would have been a scene of horror and revolting bloodshed and\ncrime, the camps were kept free from taint.\n\nIt savours rather of an army of Puritans to know that every morning, at\nthe very first streak of dawn, each separate tribe composing that little\narmy mustered in array to join the teacher in saying the Lord\u2019s Prayer,\nand a short prayer suited to the requirements of the day. And every\nevening, after the excitement of the day was over, each house separately\nhad reading of the Scriptures, singing, and prayer; and every man in the\nforce knelt as reverently as he would have done at family worship in his\npeaceful village home. I wonder of how many so-called civilised armies\nall this could be said?\n\nBut to return to the caves. The last had scarcely been captured when Mr\nGordon became utterly prostrate from what has proved to be a very serious\nattack of low typhoid fever. I told you he had been here for a few days\nafter finishing work in his own district, and before proceeding to join\nCaptain Knollys; and we think he must have contracted it here, as there\nhave been several bad cases of the same type, and at least two men have\ndied of it, including the builder of this house. The caves were right\nin the interior of Viti Levu; and as I mentioned to you, the return\nmarch was fearfully trying, both for a sick man and those in charge of\nhim\u2014Fijian mountain paths being pretty severe work for the strongest man.\nHappily Dr Macgregor was able to be in close attendance.\n\nTo make matters worse, they had literally nothing that he could eat.\nThe Doctor thought he had secured a prize in an old hen belonging to a\nteacher, but the owner begged she might be spared, as she was \u201cgiving\nmilk\u201d\u2014a striking discovery in ornithology! But it seems this is the\nFijian equivalent for _laying_. I suppose that as cows and hens are both\nimported animals, it was assumed that the same term would be equally\nexpressive. But the teacher promised to bring some excellent eggs to make\nflip, and soon returned with a dozen. On the first being cracked a fine\nchicken appeared,\u2014so _that_ was not of much use! At last they readied\nthe coast, where a hospitable planter took care of the patient till a\nsteamer, specially chartered for the occasion, arrived to take away most\nof the troops and about a hundred of the worst prisoners, who are to have\na turn of hard work for their country\u2019s good.\n\nThe said steamer is one hired temporarily from New Zealand; but the\nluckless Government steamer Fitzroy, which was bought for \u00a37000 when\nwe came here, ran on to a coral-reef last month, and is a total\nwreck,\u2014another bit of ill-luck for this poverty-stricken land. Her\ncaptain was the steadiest and most experienced man in the group, so it is\na good proof of what dangerous navigation this is.\n\nHere Mr Gordon found an empty house, save for the presence of Mr and Mrs\nAbbey, the excellent major-domo and his admirable wife, who have nursed\nhim with tenderest devotion, and are now rewarded by seeing him steadily\namending. But for some days he was so very ill that an express was sent\nto Suva, in Viti Levu, to summon the Governor, who, with Captain Knollys\nand Baron von H\u00fcgel, had gone there, on their way back, to see Lady\nGordon and her children, who are staying there for change of air.\n\nJust at this moment, I, knowing nothing of all this, returned\nunexpectedly from a three weeks\u2019 cruise round Vanua Levu with my friends\nthe Langhams, with whom I have now travelled for thirteen weeks in\ndistricts which otherwise would have been to me wholly inaccessible. But\nI have not time now to tell you anything about our cruise, so you must\nbe content with this letter for the present. I forgot to tell you that\nwe have a new inmate in the house\u2014a remarkably nice young cannibal. His\nfather is one of the worst cannibal chiefs captured by Captain Knollys,\nto whom both father and son have quite a romantic attachment!\n\n_Note._\u2014On the 28th October 1876 the Governor issued a proclamation of\nfree pardon to all the mountain-tribes who had fought against Government,\ngranting free permission to all who had been carried as prisoners to\nother districts, and to those who might still be concealed in the bush\nor in caves, to return to their own districts, and rebuild their towns\nand cultivate their lands, only stipulating that the fortified places\nmust not be reoccupied, but that sites should be selected more suitable\nto the peaceful inhabitants of a quiet land. Even at the date of this\nproclamation, he found that the disturbed districts were assuming an\naspect of security and civilisation hitherto undreamt of. New towns were\nrapidly springing up by the rivers and in the plains, and cultivation\nwas carried on in perfect security, in places which hitherto could not\nbe worked at all, or only by armed men. Formerly constant distrust\nreigned between the different tribes\u2014especially between the Christians\nand heathens; and not without good cause, as four hundred inhabitants\nof one Christian town had been treacherously clubbed by their heathen\nneighbours, having been induced by false pretences to leave their town.\nNow the wild tribes had all adopted the kilt of native cloth, and cut\ntheir hair to a reasonable length\u2014sure proofs of general respectability.\nThey had also welcomed the native Christian teachers, who had come to\nlive in almost every village.\n\nA year later\u2014October 1877\u2014Sir Arthur Gordon revisited these districts. He\nfound satisfactory progress everywhere\u2014the people devoting their energies\nto agriculture instead of war\u2014all, nominally at least, Christians; good\nnew villages; good riding-paths (one forty miles in length from the coast\nto the permanent headquarters of native police at Fort Carnarvon); and\nthese, though of purely native construction, were led by easy gradients\nalong the hillsides, instead of following the steepest ridges, according\nto Fijian custom. Everywhere peace, order, and plenty prevailed. He\nwas especially pleased to find one of the _tevoro_ chiefs, whom he\nhad pardoned when under sentence of death (causing him to place his\nhands in his and swear fealty), now a useful and zealous officer of\nthe Government. At Fort Carnarvon, about a thousand representatives of\nthe wild tribes assembled to meet him and hear his words; and several\nhundred school-children, from the neighbouring villages, gathered\ntogether for one of their picturesque school-examinations. A large\nproportion of the children could read and write well\u2014a most satisfactory\nresult of one year\u2019s tuition. According to invariable custom, the\nschool-examination was enlivened by many of the wild, but often graceful\nand poetic, _m\u00e9k\u00e9s_\u2014_i.e._, descriptive songs and dances. After several\nspear-dances, and one descriptive of a cow protecting her calf, and\nanother of a hawk fluttering, came one which Sir Arthur thus describes in\nhis private journal:\u2014\n\n\u201cNasaucoko fan _m\u00e9k\u00e9_. Nai kalukalu, the Stars. This was a very curious\n_m\u00e9k\u00e9_. Two circular enclosures of bamboo, about five feet high, were\nerected, within which two parties of dancers began to whirl round, waving\nwhite _masi_ fans over their heads. Gradually, one by one, they came out\nof the door of their enclosure opposite each other. This was the rising\nof the stars. They met, danced the usual sort of dance, and, at one part\nof it, threw away their fans. This was to represent the shooting-stars.\u201d\n\nOn the following day he writes\u2014\n\n\u201c_Thursday._\u2014To-day Buli Nadrau and all his people came to do their\nhomage. Very pretty they looked, coming over the hill in an interminable\nline. The old gentleman was tremendously weighted in his state-robes,\nwhich were only put on him by his attendants a few yards before he\nreached me, and were, after he had passed me, at once taken off again,\nand presented. _Six hundred feet_ and more of black (or rather grey)\n_masi_ were heaped on him, and that not in the shape of an enormous\ntrain, like Tui Cakau\u2019s, but all draped and festooned over his person and\nhead.\n\n\u201c_Friday._\u2014Walked over to Korolevu, where I was received in a fashion\nwhich I have never seen elsewhere. The people were arranged in rows\non each side of the _rara_. As I came into it, all the folks inclined\ntheir heads to the left shoulder, and, as I passed them, sank down\ninto a slanting position to the left, like a row of nine-pins.... Most\npicturesque was the offering to me of the _magiti_ (feast), by moonlight,\nas I sat on the marble steps of the old _bur\u00e9_ (devil temple), destroyed\nlong ago. Most striking too was the scene in the village afterwards,\u2014each\nhousehold grouped in front of its own door, and later the sound of\nprayers from the various houses. Every one of the people here was, last\nyear, a prisoner. Later I strolled up and down by myself alone, but in\nperfect security.... From one house I heard the voices of a number of\nwomen repeating the Lord\u2019s Prayer. What a change from last year, when\nthere was nothing here but heaps of ashes!\u201d\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI.\n\n A PLANTER\u2019S HOUSE\u2014ANGORA GOATS\u2014A LOVELY SHORE\u2014SERICULTURE\u2014THE\n MOSQUITO PLAGUE.\n\n\n NANANU, A SMALL ISLE OFF VITI LEVU, _Sept. 30, 1876_.\n\nDEAR NELL,\u2014At last I have reached the Robinson Crusoe home, about which\nwe used to conjure up such visions of romance, whenever a letter from\nthe far-away Fiji Isles reached the old vicarage in Northumberland. I\ncame here last Tuesday with Baron von H\u00fcgel. Captain Knollys lent us his\nbeautiful boat and a crew of native police: we had the great luck of a\nfair wind, and made the run in eight hours\u2014which is exceptionally good\ntime. You who have never been much in the way of travelling in small\nships and boats can scarcely realise how tantalising are the constant\ndelays to which we are liable from wind and weather.\n\nYou would think that a home within eight hours\u2019 run of the capital\ncannot be very isolated. Yet such are the difficulties of getting about\nand of leaving home, that since the day\u2014now ten years ago\u2014when Mr Leefe\nbrought his bride here\u2014a bright pretty girl of eighteen, with a tiny\nbaby daughter\u2014her sole expeditions have been one three months\u2019 trip to\nAustralia, when she was very ill, and one visit of six weeks to Levuka to\nstay with a friend, whose two children died while she was there,\u2014so that\nwas not a cheerful visit. And though a boat occasionally touches here, no\nladies have ever done so except once, when Mrs Havelock called for three\nhours; and once also, some years ago, when a brother-planter fled here\nwith his wife and family for refuge from the cannibals, and then the two\nfamilies had to stow themselves as best they could in the one house of\ntwo rooms.\n\nHappily, there is now an extra house, or rather quite a group of\nhalf-a-dozen small semi-Fijian houses, which severally act as\nfeeding-room, sitting-room, sleeping-rooms, kitchen, store-room, and\nsilk-worm house. These are all clustered beneath the cool shadow of a\ncouple of old trees, one of which spreads its great boughs towards the\nkitchen, and acts as larder,\u2014for from these branches hang such pieces\nof kid or goat\u2019s flesh as may be in stock. Here are the rough-and-ready\nessentials of an open-air carpenter\u2019s shop; and beneath a central tree\na small matted enclosure acts as the family bath-room, to which the\nlabour-boys bring buckets of fresh water to fill a great wooden tub. But\ninfinitely more pleasant is the delicious sea-bathing, in which we can\nhere indulge most freely, without any dread of sharks. Imagine the charm\nof walking straight out of your bedroom on to the purest white sand, and\nplunging just as deep as you please in the very clearest water, warm\nenough to make it delightful to lie and bask there at early morning and\nat sunset! Sometimes two brown maidens come to disport themselves with us\nin the water, and they and Ethel swim and dive like fishes\u2014swimming long\ndistances under the water, and coming up, when least expected, to seize\nme, in hopes of startling me with an impression of sharks.\n\nEthel, the tiny baby of ten years ago, is now a picturesque tall girl\nof eleven, a winsome wide-awake child, and a real little lady, but a\nthorough bushwoman, versed in all arts of foraging and bush-cooking, and\nher mother\u2019s helper in many a care.\n\nMy arrival here was a funny example of how we do things in Fiji. My\nvisit has been under discussion for a whole year; and once, owing to\nmiscarriage of letters, Mr Leefe even came to Levuka to fetch me when\nI had gone up the Rewa! This time I had written about a week before\nstarting, to announce my coming. That letter has only just arrived a week\nafter me. So of course I was not expected; and further, both Mrs Leefe\nand Ethel were suffering from severe cold and headache. However, I was\nmost cordially welcomed, and shown the various objects of interest, but\nsaw no symptom of any special quarters being awarded to me. At bed-time I\nwas hospitably invited to share a bed with my hostess and her daughter\u2014Mr\nL. and the Baron occupying a tiny house outside. I preferred a shake-down\nin the drawing-room, and at early dawn awoke in time to accompany Mrs\nLeefe and Ethel to milk the goats\u2014which on paper sounds very pretty, and\nwhich in fine weather is really so. But when you come to the reality of\nhaving to start at 5 A.M. every morning of your life\u2014fine weather or\nfoul, in sickness or in health\u2014and walk a mile and a half up and down\nvery steep slippery hill-paths, which in wet weather are mere slides of\nred mud,\u2014and, when the milking is done, return by the same path, making\na walk of three miles before the day\u2019s work has actually begun, you can\nimagine that this pretty pastoral scene becomes a tolerably fatiguing\nitem in daily life.\n\nOf course to me there was the great charm of novelty\u2014an early morning in\nlovely sunlight, blue sea and cocoa-palms on every side, and the very\npicturesque flock of goats. One of Mr Leefe\u2019s most anxious experiments\nhas been the introduction of Angora goats,\u2014lovely white creatures, with\nlong silky fleece. At great expense he procured two pair, and having\nkilled off all the wild he-goats on the island, these beautiful strangers\nwere established as monarchs of the isle. So the flock is now exceedingly\npretty. There are 230 mothers, of all varieties of colour, and each\nhas either one or two pure white kids, all, without exception, taking\nafter their father. Alas! many of them are already orphans, one of these\nsplendid fellows having met with a most untimely end. Its long fleece got\nentangled in a thorny lemon-bush, which held it prisoner, and it was not\nfound till it was dead. The second narrowly escaped the same fate. It got\nastray, and was caught in a thicket by its horns, and was not discovered\ntill the following day. It was, however, reported missing at night, and\nall hands turned out to seek for the lost father of the flock. Torches\nwere lighted, and the search continued for some hours; at last it was\ngiven up as being vain, and all returned to sleep, when suddenly an alarm\nof fire was given, and the whole hill was seen to be in a blaze: a torch,\ncarelessly dropped in the dry grass, had started a fire which spread\nrapidly, destroying a multitude of promising young palm-trees recently\nplanted. Such are the risks of plantation life.\n\nThe fine silky hair is not the sole advantage of introducing the Angora\ngoat. Its flesh is said to be more tender than mutton, with a slight\nflavour of venison; and, moreover, such a flock will thrive where sheep\ncould not find a living.[42]\n\nIt was nearly eight o\u2019clock before we got back from the milking, and from\nfeeding the poultry and the pigs, and you may believe we did enjoy our\ngood hot tea. But Mrs Leefe was so ill that she had to go to bed again.\nGenerally she is very strong, and thinks nothing of walking ten or twelve\nmiles.\n\nI thought it was now time to establish my regular sleeping-quarters. My\nhost most generously offered to give up his own little grass hut for me;\nbut on looking round, I discovered a tiny lumber-room partitioned off the\ndining-room, which is a house apart, and so close to the sea that I could\nalmost step from the window into the water. I petitioned for the use\nof this small room, and with much help from Ethel and an acute Solomon\nIsland girl, I cleared out many sacks of cuttle-fish bones, maize, and\n\u201cproduce\u201d of all sorts, swept it out, laid down mats, fixed up a tiny\nbedstead, drove in nails on which to hang up clothes, and hung one of\nmy waterproof sheets as a door, and so made quite a cosy wee den, in\nwhich I am now comfortably established. A \u201cbedstead\u201d would be quite an\nunnecessary adjunct in a Fijian house, with its flooring of soft grass\nand many mats; but here we have a wooden floor which would be too hard\nfor comfort: besides, where maize has been stored, rats are wont to\ncongregate. My little room has only one drawback, namely, that just at\nthe window there remains one immovable trace of its former use\u2014that is,\nthe corn grinder, in which the men\u2019s daily rations are ground, with such\nintolerable noise as invariably to drive me up the hill to escape from\nit. What must it be for the wretched native who has to do it, all the\ntime receiving general abuse for the hideous row which he cannot avoid\nmaking!\n\nI think the plantation hands here are exclusively foreign labour, all the\nFijians having been turned off when Mr Leefe purchased the whole island.\nHe also has property on the mainland of Viti Levu, where his nephew Harry\nlives as superintendent, and keeps a store for the supply of cloth,\nlamps, sardines, tools, and other necessaries of life\u2014a great convenience\nin this remote place. Most of his customers are natives.\n\nOn our way here from Ovalau, we sailed close along the north-east coast\nof Viti Levu, which is most picturesque,\u2014a fine rugged land, with narrow\nvalleys hemmed in by great cliffs, and running down to the shore, where\nlittle villages nestle beneath great trees, from which hang the fishers\u2019\nnets. I thought several points exceedingly beautiful, and hope to retrace\nthe ground more leisurely and secure some good sketches. As we came\nnearer here, the scene became bleaker and less attractive. Still the\ngeneral effect of the coast, as seen from this house, is like some of the\nbetter parts of Ross-shire; and the narrow strait which separates this\nisle from the mainland, is like a fine Highland loch.\n\nNananu itself is rather a low flat island, in shape something like a\nstar-fish, whence you perceive that you cannot walk far in any direction\nwithout looking down on the sea\u2014the bluest sea, with lines and patches of\nvividly emerald green, marking where the coral-reef rises almost to the\nsurface. All the centre of the star-fish is a great grassy hill, but each\nof its many arms is edged with a belt of magnificent old trees, which\novershadow the whitest of coral-sand, and in some places quite overhang\nthe water. You are tempted to bathe at every turn. One bay in particular\nis quite lovely. I have never seen another quite so fascinating in any\ncountry. It is an immense horse-shoe of the purest white sand, where for\na mile and a half you can walk along the water\u2019s edge, shaded by noble\nold _mdelo_, _mbaka_, _tavola_, and _eevie_ trees, making a belt of dense\ncool verdure.\n\nIn every available corner of the land Mr Leefe is planting thousands of\nyoung cocoa-nut trees, which are expected to yield a good return some\nsix years hence, provided no hurricane sweeps the isles. Many planters\nare now trusting chiefly to their nuts since cotton has so utterly\nfailed. It is sad in so many places to see great tracts of forsaken\ncotton-fields,[43] with their pods of white soft fluff, which it no\nlonger pays to collect.\n\nThe cotton-bush bears a lovely pale-yellow flower with a deep\nclaret-coloured centre, precisely similar to that of the _vau_, the\ncommon hybiscus, which forms the scrub of the isles, and yields the fibre\nso largely used by the natives. Curiously enough, an almost identical\nblossom is borne by a troublesome but beautiful weed which grows\nprofusely in the deserted cotton-fields. A peculiar kind of brilliant\nbeetle swarms in the cotton.\n\nThe neglected fields are sadly suggestive of the fortunes of their\nowners. For the invariable history of almost every planter is a tale of\ntrouble and loss,\u2014of large sums of money sunk, and now yielding no return\nwhatever. The varieties in the story are generally whether the crops have\nbeen destroyed by hurricanes, or the house and all that it contained was\nburnt to the ground,\u2014often both in succession.[44]\n\nI constantly hear lamentable stories of the hardships which some of these\ngentlemen are, even now, enduring. I hear of some, personally known to\nmy hosts, who for months together have tasted nothing but sweet-potatoes\nand yams, with water for their only drink: occasionally they struggle to\nrear a few fowls, not for home use, but to be exchanged for the luxuries\nof tea and sugar\u2014and even these fowls generally come to grief. Of course\ngoats can only be kept by the privileged few who possess a whole island.\nOn the mainland they would make havoc in the gardens of the natives,\nand however carefully tended, would give rise to many difficulties. Even\na cow is not kept without much trouble on the score of trespass, and\ninvolves a lad to look after her; and I am told that there are families\nnow living on Taviuni too poor to pay even one labour-boy to help on the\nplantation; indeed I heard of one case in which the father was too weak\nto work, and all the family were living on wild roots, dug up by the\nchildren!\n\nMy host, being a man of unbounded energy, blessed with a wife of the like\ntemperament, has managed, by a hard struggle, to keep his head above\nwater, and now ranks as an exceptionally well-to-do planter. Having his\nown \u201chome farm,\u201d he is able occasionally to kill some sort of animal,\nand its flesh, fresh or salt, generally furnishes the table with meat;\nbut if press of work prevents his having time to slay and prepare any\nbeast, a large _papaw_ tart, with a dish of yams and a pot of tea,\nsuffices for palates not vitiated by over-much luxury. At present there\nis a sense of abundance in the house, for Mr Leefe has himself killed,\nskinned, and cut up a goat, the various portions of which now adorn the\nbeautiful old tree larder; moreover, a small vessel has called here and\nleft a barrel of flour, of which Mrs Leefe herself has made excellent\nscones. We are indebted to her skill for almost all our meals, her only\nassistant in the kitchen being a good-natured laughing boy from the\nTokalau Isles, whose talents are as yet undeveloped. He manages to do the\ncoarser laundry-work, with the help of a very wide-awake girl from the\nSolomon Isles (who, by the way, talks the prettiest English). But here,\nalso, anything needing care or refinement falls to the mistress, who\nalso has to attend to the family wardrobe; and hardest of all, to both\nmother and daughter, she has sole charge of Ethel\u2019s lessons, especially\nthat most grievous task, her music lesson. For she has managed to retain\none pleasant reminder of the old life in a most musical home, in her\ntreasured piano, the solace of many an evening when the toil of day is\nover. I will not say that it is strictly in tune. No piano can be kept in\norder in this land of mildew and damp.\n\nSo Ethel is well on in music, but infinitely prefers out-of-doors\noccupations, and the companionship of all the living creatures, each of\nwhom is a personal acquaintance\u2014the poultry, the goats, the very pigs,\nwhose name is legion. They live in a large pen by themselves near the\nsea, but are allowed to roam at large through the bush. At a given hour\ntheir supply of cocoa-nuts is carried to their pen, and a wooden _lali_\n(drum) is struck to summon them, when they assemble with a rush. They\nare hideously tame, and come running up to meet any members of the family\nwho may pass in that direction, and gambol cheerfully round them.\n\nBut one of the principal daily cares is that of attending to a great army\nof silk-worms, which have to be fed six times a-day: that means going\nout six times to gather fresh mulberry-leaves, each of which must be\ncarefully dried. Then the trays have to be cleaned, the eggs examined,\nthe newly-hatched worms carefully separated and placed on leaves to begin\ntheir new life. The cocoons have to be attended to, and guarded from the\nattacks of insects; in short, rearing silk-worms on this scale is a task\nrequiring as much care and patience as any human nursery. This industry\nis an altogether new experiment in Fiji, where it might no doubt succeed,\nbut for what will, I fear, prove an insuperable obstacle\u2014namely, the\nprice of labour here, as compared with that in the silk-growing districts\nof China. Here the whole work is at present done by Mrs Leefe and Ethel,\nas none of their people are sufficiently trustworthy to be trained as\nassistants. So you see the life of a planter\u2019s wife leaves small time for\nidle day-dreams or novel-reading! It needs a brave heart, and abundant\ncourage and perseverance, to say nothing of physical strength, to fulfil\nsuch daily tasks.\n\nTo me, who have only to enjoy myself, there is an unspeakable charm\nin the easy-going open-air life here; and the air is wonderfully keen\nand bracing as compared with the climate of Levuka. We have had the\nthermometer at 74\u00b0, and have felt almost too cold. So all day long I\nwander about the isle, passing from one white sand bay to another, and\nkeeping in the shelter of those great overhanging trees, whose dark\nfoliage forms so perfect a screen from the ever-shining sun. The raised\ncentre of the isle is, as I have told you, generally grassy; and here\nI sit morning and evening, overlooking the sea in every direction,\nand watching for the rare appearing of a sail. The only shade there,\nhowever, is that of the screw-pine, which grows abundantly, and makes\nan odd sketchable bit of foreground, with its long prickly leaves set\nscrew-wise, and its roots like a cluster of white pillars, making the\ntree look as if it were walking on stilts. It bears a large scarlet\nor orange fruit, something like a pine-apple in appearance, but with\nso little on its woody sections to tempt the palate, that none save\ngoat-herds, on whom the long day hangs heavy, care to gnaw them. True\npine-apples have been planted in abundance, as also orange, lemon, and\nbread-fruit trees; so have the delicious native _keveeka_, which bears a\nfruit resembling a large transparent pink pear and answers the purpose\nof a cooling drink. Moreover, as I told you, Mr Leefe is planting\nthousands of young palms in every available crevice, on Sir Walter\nScott\u2019s principle of \u201cAye be stickin\u2019 in a tree; it will be growing while\nye are sleeping.\u201d Close round the house there is a small kitchen-garden\nin which grow tiny tomatoes and the tree-pea\u2014a shrub which bears pods\nvery like those of our common green pea.\n\nWhenever Ethel can be spared from her home-duties she comes with me on my\nexploring expeditions, and sometimes carries a kettle, a small bottle of\nmilk, and a little packet of tea and sugar; then, while I am sketching,\nshe lights a fire and ministers to my comfort. The only drawback to the\ndelightful shady nooks, which we prefer, is the multitude of mosquitoes\nwhich infest them. I am sure they scent out a fresh prey in me. Never\nshall I forget my first day here, when I settled down to make a careful\nstudy of a magnificent old banyan (identical, I think, with the _Ficus\nreligiosa_ of India). The mosquitoes assembled in myriads. Vainly did\nEthel and a wild-looking brown goat-herd sit, one on each side of me,\nholding branches, with which to beat them off; and vainly did I slay six\nor eight at a time, so often as I could pause to slap one hand on the\nother. Thicker and thicker they swarmed (for there was not a breath of\nair stirring in the thicket where we sat); so at last we had to give it\nup and fly to cool our fevered hands and faces in the sea; then we lay\nunder the orange-trees in the old garden, and ate ripe golden fruit to\nour hearts\u2019 content. Next time I go to sketch in any such sheltered spot,\nI shall hang up my mosquito-net to a tree, so as to lessen this maddening\ndistraction\u2014though, of course, it will be rather dazzling to draw looking\nthrough a fine white net.\n\nHow funny some of our incidents of common life would seem to you! Last\nnight I was awakened by the grunting of pigs all round my window, and\nguessed that they had broken through their fence and got into the garden.\nSo I jumped up and gave them chase wildly, and succeeded in driving them\nall out.\n\nMr Leefe owns a second small island, separated from this by a narrow\nchannel; there he keeps another flock of goats, and yesterday went over\nto count them. He took us with him, much to Ethel\u2019s delight, as the\nFijian shepherd has a pretty baby, which is her namesake and great pet.\nWe saw a curious natural rock-bridge on the coast, concerning which,\ntradition says, a shark jumped through a cave and left this rock standing.\n\nBaron von H\u00fcgel returned from the mainland this morning just as we came\nback from the goat-milking. He has collected some new curiosities, and\ngave me a funny old cannibal fork. He returns to Nasova to-day, and takes\nthis letter to the mail. He is full of the loveliness of various places\nhe has seen, and says I must manage to go and do some sketching. But how?\nThat is the difficulty. Mrs Leefe, who has never yet seen anything, even\nwithin a few miles of this place, says she would delight in going if only\nit could be managed, but she does not see how she can be spared from her\nmany home-cares; and it is equally difficult for either Mr Leefe or Harry\nto get away. And you know I never dream of going anywhere alone; besides,\nMr Leefe has sold his good boat, and now has only a very small one. So\nreally I do not see how it can be managed, though it is most tantalising.\nHowever, something may develop.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII.\n\n THE POTTERY DISTRICTS OF VITI LEVU\u2014A CANNIBAL\u2019S REGISTER\u2014A\n NIGHT IN A CORN-SHED\u2014FUNERAL OF RATU TAIVITA.\n\n\n RATU PHILIMONE\u2019S HOUSE, NA VATU (THE ROCK), RAKI RAKI, _October 10_.\n\nThe difficulties have been overcome, and here I am on the mainland of\nbeautiful Viti Levu. This is a delightful place to which Mr Leefe brought\nme about a week ago. Mrs Leefe provided us with a large basketful of\nprovisions\u2014newly-baked bread, and other good things; and on arriving\nhere, we were most hospitably welcomed by the kindly native minister,\nRatu Philimone, and his handsome pleasant wife Henrietta. The title Ratu\nmarks the man who bears it as being of good birth; and this couple and\ntheir pretty children are of a very superior sort. Their house has quite\na nice inner room, which they insisted on giving up to me, so I am really\nmost comfortable here.\n\nMr Leefe was only able to stay one whole day, long enough to take me over\na good deal of the neighbourhood. Then as its rare beauty proved more\nand more fascinating on further acquaintance, he left me here in the\nhospitable care of Ratu Philimone, not, however, till he had also placed\nme in the charge of the police! in the person of Mr Jones, the officer\nof this district, who is most kind, and does his utmost to further all\nmy wishes. So also does his friend and neighbour Mr Shinnock, who sends\nme a bottle of milk every morning, and one day a little pig\u2019s leg: and\nnow I hear that he has killed a kid for my especial benefit. He has also\nlent me his horse Sweep, a steady old fellow, and able to canter, though\nnot much used to carrying a lady. I find I have left the girths of my\nside-saddle at Nasova, but Mr Jones most kindly lends me his, which are\nof leather, and he himself now uses a rope. He has a wooden saddle with\ngoat-skin-cover. Truly did Captain Martin, our worthy skipper, remark\nthat this is the country for makeshifts!\n\nThis place is well described by its name. It is really Na Vatu (The\nRock), being a huge rock-mass, quite detached from the great Kauvandra\nrange of mountains, and standing alone on a level shore. The village in\nwhich I am living is on the sea-level, but a steep path up the beautiful\ncrag leads to a lovely village, called Nai Songoliko, which consists of a\nnumber of small houses perched wherever they can find room all over the\ncliff, almost hidden by bread-fruit and other bowering trees, which cling\nto the rock as if by magic. From this point a narrow spur runs inland,\nand the view from there is quite beautiful\u2014the bluest sea, dotted with\nisles and tinted by patches of coral-reef, lying outspread to right and\nleft of the cliff. Each of these villages has a tidy well-built church.\nI think I have explored every corner of the great rock, and many of the\ntiny homes which lie so quaintly niched among the rocky boulders. Some\nof the people produced hidden treasures, which they offered me for sale;\nand I have bought several good things, including some stone axes. I think\nI must have mentioned to you that these are only just now passing out\nof common use here: they are brought to us tied with native string to a\npiece of wood shaped like a bent knee. Sometimes I see instances of the\nactual transition from the stone to the iron age, when some lucky man,\nhaving got a Birmingham adze, rejects his old stone celt and ties his new\nacquisition on to the same wooden handle.\n\nIn one house I found a pretty young woman with a baby a fortnight old.\nBoth were covered from head to foot with turmeric, with which their\nclothes were also smeared. I believe this is a precaution against the\ndevices of certain evil spirits, of whom many of the people still stand\nin as great awe as many a devout old Highlander does of the bogies and\nwarlocks of our own mountains. Those dark ranges of the Kauvandra are\nthe especial haunts of various fairies and brownies, and we have heard\nlegends enough to make us wish that some competent person would set\nabout collecting them ere the old lore dies away.\n\nAll over this crag and the neighbourhood there are luxuriant masses of\nthe intensely blue clitoria, as also of a bean which is good for food,\nand bears white blossoms. The effect of the white and blue is so charming\nthat I have proclaimed a general offer of fish-hooks, needles, and thread\nto all children who will collect seeds for me. So every evening a little\ntroop of traders await my return; and I have now amassed a quantity of\nseed, which I intend to sow broadcast all over the hill behind Nasova.\n\nOne of the chief places of interest in this neighbourhood is the town\nof Na Sava, which is peopled by the former inhabitants of the isle of\nMalaki, from which they were driven out by the whites as an act of\nvengeance for the murder of a white man whose boat touched on their\ninhospitable shore. That, at least, is one version of the story. Malaki\nlies just off this coast, and Mr Leefe took me to see it. It is a\npleasant spot, grassy and wooded, but now left desolate. To its people is\nattributed the honour of having been the first in these isles to invent\npottery, an art which is here carried to a perfection far surpassing\nanything found in other groups of the Pacific. I believe that pottery of\nsome sort is found in all parts of Melanesia\u2014the best specimens having\nbeen brought from New Guinea, and some also from the Admiralty Isles, New\nBritain, New Ireland, the Solomon Isles, New Hebrides, and New Caledonia.\nBut these are all exceedingly coarse, and devoid of all artistic\npretension. In Polynesia, on the other hand, the manufacture of pottery\nis apparently totally unknown.\n\nThe Fijians are, as you know, a mixed race\u2014partly Polynesian, partly\nMelanesian. Whether they derived their first idea of pottery from their\nMelanesian ancestors, and then greatly improved upon it; or whether, as\nthey themselves say, their master in the art was the mason-bee, it is\nimpossible to determine. Certain it is that the form of the cooking and\nwater vessels in use in every Fijian home greatly resembles that of the\nlittle clay nests which this busy creature builds in every convenient\ncorner. On our glass windows, in the doorways, or under the eaves where\nthe swallows of our own land are wont to place theirs, we find these\nlittle earthen homes, globular or oblong, with an opening at one side,\nterminating in a narrow neck or passage with turned-back lip.\n\nI have often succeeded in detaching these unbroken, and they are perfect\nminiatures of the ordinary Fijian pots. They are made of the same blue\nclay, which the potter has learned to mix with sand. Once the idea was\nstarted, other objects in nature soon suggested variety of form, such as\nthe shell of the turtle and the form of various fruits. Considering the\ncoarseness of the clay used, and the rude manner in which the pots are\nfashioned, wholly by hand and by rule of thumb, and considering, also,\nthat the manufacturers are people whom the civilised world are wont to\nregard as utter savages, I think that when you see my collection you\nwill be greatly impressed by the artistic beauty and immense variety\nof form thus produced. Naturally what are made for ordinary domestic\npurposes\u2014_i.e._, cooking and water pots\u2014adhere pretty much to one type;\nbut in the patterns with which these are decorated, and the manufacture\nof what we may call fancy articles, every potter follows her own taste,\nand the same exact form is very rarely reproduced. We have occasionally\ntried to get duplicates made to order, but the result has almost\ninvariably been most unsatisfactory; and in no case will the potters of\none district attempt to copy a piece which has been brought from some\nother island or district.\n\nIt is for this reason that I have, as I mentioned to you, taken so\nmuch trouble to paint careful studies of many of the principal pieces\nwhich have passed through our hands, to whichever collectors they have\nbelonged. I suppose I have fully sixty such studies, several of which\ninclude two or three pieces. The objects vary in size, from small bowls\nor water-jars, six or eight inches in height, to great cooking-pots,\nthree feet deep; and the colours range from richest golden to a deep\nred, running into green, the colour being chiefly due to the glaze.\nThat which is commonly used is the heated resin of the _ndakua_ pine,\nalmost identical with the _kaurie_ pine of New Zealand, which yields the\nbeautiful amber-like gum.\n\nThere are certain forms which find general favour, and are very commonly\nmade. Such are, clusters of four or six globes, the size of an orange,\nall connected one with another, and each having a hollow tube leading\nfrom one aperture at the top, by which all the globes are filled. On\nthe same principle are rude imitations of canoes, joined together by\none handle; also turtles, single or in pairs. These are of a very\nconventional type.\n\nWhen I was staying at Bau (which, tiny as it is, is divided into six\ntowns), I was greatly interested in watching the potters of So So at\nwork. So So is the fisher town, and the potters are generally wives of\nthe fishermen. There I spent some hours in the picturesque hut of an old\ncrone, trying to persuade her to model her turtles from a living one\nwhich was walking about on the mats; but she preferred her own monstrous\nideal, and chuckled with delight every time the fins and feet of mine\nfell off.\n\nThere, and I think also at Rewa, the women just beat out a flat piece of\nclay on their hand, and then gradually mould it into a cup-like form,\nwith the help of a smooth stone held inside, and a wooden spatula with\nwhich to beat the outer surface. When their modelling is finished, the\npieces are left to dry in a house for six or eight days, and are then\ntaken to a quiet sheltered nook betwixt the sea and a great rock. Here a\npile of light wood and small sticks is built, and on this the pots are\nlaid. Dry grass is lightly piled over them, and small twigs over all.\nThis pile is set on fire, and kept burning for about half an hour. Then,\nwhile still hot, the cooking-pots are well rubbed with an infusion of\n_tiri_\u2014_i. e._, mangrove-bark\u2014which is a dark-red dye, and gives the pots\nboth colour and a slight glaze. Ornamental pots, and those for water, are\nkept in the house from four to eight days. They are first baked with a\nlight grass-fire, afterwards with wood, and while still hot are glazed\nwith the _ndakua_ resin I mentioned previously.\n\nThere are slight variations in the process in different parts of the\ngroup, as on the north of Vanua Levu, where all the pottery we procured\nwas unglazed. Several of the finest pieces I have seen were said to come\nfrom Na Sava, which is only a few miles from here; and I was the more\nanxious to see these people at work because of the tradition that their\nancestresses first discovered the art. So Mr Jones sent word to the\nvillage chief that we proposed visiting his town in the afternoon. We\nwalked up to Mr Shinnock\u2019s house; and he welcomed us to a real planter\u2019s\nbungalow, and gave us kid, _taro_, and tea, which we consumed in\npresence of a large circle of Fijian girls, who had assembled from other\nmountain-towns to see the pale-faced woman. _Na Maramma mbalavu_\u2014the long\nlady\u2014was the title by which I was invariably described.\n\nThe horses having, after much trouble, been caught and saddled, we rode\nround the back of the rock till we came to Na Sava, which is quite a\nlarge village. Here the chief called upon the potters to assemble on the\nvillage-green and exhibit their skill. Of course this was taking them\nrather at a disadvantage, but it enabled us to see a good deal in a short\ntime.\n\nThe pottery is made entirely by hand\u2014nothing of the nature of a wheel\nbeing known. The clay, having been mixed with fine sand, is rolled into\nlong sausages, and these are coiled, one above the other, in a hollow\ncircle, this forming the base of a round pot. Having partly moulded this\ninto shape, the potter takes a smooth round stone in her left hand,\nand holds it inside the clay, while with the other hand she beats the\nexterior with a flat piece of wood like a spoon, and constantly moistens\nthe clay. Fresh sausages are then built up round the top, and gradually\nnarrowed till there only remains room to insert one finger (if for a\nwater-pot), or the food (if for a cooking-pot); and these are, in like\nmanner, beaten to a smooth surface, both inside and out. The rim of\nthe vessel must now be fashioned, and then comes a final wetting and\nsmoothing of the whole, and probably a very elaborate geometrical pattern\nis, last of all, marked with a small sharp stick. Sometimes a pattern is\nlaid on in raised work, almost like clusters of grapes. The work must be\ndone ere the day wanes, as towards sunset the clay falls, and will not\nmould obediently to the potter\u2019s hand.\n\nWe stayed a couple of hours watching different women at work, and tried\nhard ourselves to model a peculiar vase with three cups on one stand, of\nwhich I had secured one unique specimen, without being able to ascertain\nwhere it was made. I am very anxious to procure others of the same\npattern, which is singularly graceful; so the women are to try and make\nseveral for me.[45]\n\nWhen the waning sun warned the potters to desist from working (and we\nfound that the clay really did fall as fast as we attempted to model\nanything), we adjourned to the house of the village teacher to see his\nwife painting a very large and most beautiful piece of _tappa_. It was\na heavy curtain, to which she was just putting the finishing touches.\nIt was most artistic, and I coveted it exceedingly, and tried hard to\nbribe her to sell it to me. I have no doubt she coveted my dollars as\nmuch as I did her handiwork; but she dared not sell it, as it had already\nbeen annexed by the omnivorous Tui Mbua: so I had to content myself with\nwatching her at work. She had designed an admirable and most intricate\npattern, which she cut out on a heated banana-leaf, laid this on the\ncloth, and rubbed it over with a scrap of _masi_, dipped either in\nvegetable charcoal and water, or in red earth, liquefied with the sap of\nthe candle-nut tree\u2014_i.e._, the silvery-leaved croton.\n\nIt is simply a form of stencilling, and only requires taste in arranging\nthe patterns and colours, and a neat hand in executing them. But the\nresult is handsome and artistic. And a great curtain of _tappa_ hung\nacross a native house is such a striking and uncommon-looking kind of\ndrapery, that it is certainly a matter of regret to know how surely this\nart is fated to die out before the influx of common English or American\ngoods. In New Zealand, for instance, where it used to be made, it is\nnow as wholly a thing of the past as the woad of our own ancestors. In\nTonga, too, its use is greatly discouraged; and it is to be feared that\nfuture generations who visit Fiji may look for it as vainly as we now do\nfor the wonderful hair-dressing which so amazed travellers in the last\ngeneration, but which was so intimately associated with ideas of war and\ncannibalism, that the Christians as a matter of course desisted from it.\n\nYet it was really carried to such perfection as to rank as a high art.\nEach great chief had his own hair-dresser, who sometimes devoted several\nhours a-day to his master\u2019s adornment, and displayed quite as much\ningenuity in his designs as the potters or cloth-painters do in their\nwork. The general aim was to produce a spherical mass about three feet\nin circumference; but a very successful hair-dresser has been known to\nbring this up to five feet! This mass was composed of twists or curls\nor tufts\u2014oftenest of thousands of spiral curls, seven or eight inches\nlong, shaped like a cone, with the base turned to the outside, and\neach individual hair turned inward. Others encouraged a tuft to grow\nso stiffly as to resemble a plume of feathers. Many had a bunch of\n\u201clove-locks,\u201d small long curls hanging on one side; others a few long\nvery fine plaits hanging from behind the ear, or from one temple; or half\nthe head was curled and half frizzled: it was also dyed according to\ntaste. And some dandies liked to have their heads party-coloured, black,\nsienna, and red; in short, there was no limit to the strange varieties\nthus produced\u2014far more diverse than the most fanciful devices of any\nfashionable lady in Europe.\n\nNow all this is a forgotten art, and though the gentlemen of our party\nwho have returned from the war, saw a certain number of \u201cbig-heads,\u201d as\nthe _tevoro_\u2014_i.e._, \u201cdevils,\u201d or rather devil-worshippers\u2014are called,\nI have seen no trace of it except in a few monstrous wigs, which still\noccasionally appear in the dances. One of Lady Gordon\u2019s attendants, whose\ngolden-brown hair is as soft and glossy as silk, retains one long tuft,\nwhich occasionally floats at liberty, at other times is plaited in a\nmultitude of the finest braids, woven by the deft fingers of his love.\n\nWe rode back from Na Sava along the shore, and had to cross a muddy flat\npart of a mangrove-swamp, on which the horse of our friend slipped and\nrolled over; but no serious damage was done, and we reached Philimone\u2019s\nhouse in safety ere darkness closed in. The great cliff, shrouded in\ngloom, stood out dark against the golden sky, and cast long reflections\non the glassy sea, which at high tide is so lovely, but at the ebb leaves\na wide expanse of mud, not altogether unpicturesque, but very aggravating\nwhen one has to cross about a quarter of a mile of it to reach one\u2019s\nboat. We had to do this both going and coming to Malaki, the potter\u2019s old\nhome, and the wretched boatmen had full benefit both of my weight and my\ncompanion\u2019s.\n\n * * * * *\n\n BALI BALI POLICE STATION, _October 12_.\n\nYou see I really am in charge of the police!\n\nAfter a very early breakfast this morning, I bade an affectionate\nfarewell to Ratu Philimone and his kind wife Henrietta, and all their\nnice little brown children\u2014such a pretty, well-behaved family group.\nMr Jones brought the horses and saddled them, and then we rode over\nhere, halting on the way to inspect a row of smallish stones, extending\nabout two hundred yards. These were to represent the number of _bokola_\n(_i.e._, human bodies) actually eaten by two chiefs, Wanga Levu and Undri\nUndri\u2014one stone for each body!\n\nSome one once suggested, as the very ideal of a hideous nightmare,\nthat we should find ourselves face to face with a resurrection army,\ncomposed of every animal of whose flesh we have ever partaken\u2014from the\nchicken-broth of our infancy, to the present day\u2014sheep and oxen, calves\nand kids, red-deer and fallow-deer, rabbits and hares, geese, ducks,\nfowls, pheasants and partridges, grouse and woodcock, salmon and cod,\nherrings and trout, crabs and lobsters, and so on _ad infinitum_,\u2014some\nmen\u2019s nightmare including elephants and giraffes, whales and hippopotami,\nand other zoological curiosities, each rigidly demanding his pound of\nflesh. But what would such a dream as this be compared with the horror\nof a similar vision in which the plaintiffs were mighty men of valour,\nshowing the broken skull on which a treacherous club alighted, and\nclaiming, not a pound of flesh only, but their whole bodies!\n\nFor there were some of the more inveterate cannibals who allowed no\nman to share with them, and gloried in the multitude of men whom they\nhad eaten, actually keeping a record of their number by erecting such\nlines of stones as those we saw here, which even now number 872, though\nat least 30 have been removed. Another member of the same family had\nregistered 48, when his becoming a Christian compelled him to be\nsatisfied with inferior meat!\n\nThese men were such noted cannibals that all _bokola_ reserved for their\nspecial use were called by a Fijian word describing captured turtle,\nabout to be deposited in the circular enclosures where they are kept\ntill required\u2014meaning that this capacious monster had room for all that\ncame to him. His cannibal fork had also a distinctive name, descriptive\nof the enormous work done by so small a thing. In this country, where\nthe precious imported whale\u2019s tooth is the only ivory known, and where\nformerly there existed no animal to yield bone, human shin-bones were\ngreatly prized to make sail-needles; so this man\u2019s tribe must have been\nwell provided! I do not think I have told you that at every cannibal\nfeast there was served a certain vegetable,[46] which was considered\nas essential an adjunct to _bokola_ as mint-sauce is to lamb, or sage\nto goose. Its use, however, was prudential, as human flesh was found\nto be highly indigestible, and this herb acted as a corrective. It was\ntherefore commonly grown in every village, to be ready when required.\n\nIt is a pretty ride all the way from Na Vatu to Bali Bali, and we arrived\nhere in time thoroughly to enjoy a second breakfast. The view from\nthis point is a very unusual one, overlooking the salt-pans, which are\nartificially constructed shallow pools, in the midst of a wide stretch\nof dark mangrove-swamp. These are flooded at certain tides, and the\nevaporation yields a fair supply of salt. Half hidden in the mangrove\nis Na Vua Vua, the chief town of this district of Raki Raki, and in the\ndistance lie the isles of Malaki and Nananu.\n\nAfter a short rest we rode up a very beautiful valley to see a hill\ncrowned with a grand mass of rocks\u2014Vatu Damu\u2014which, as we approached,\nresembled Cyclopean fortifications. We climbed the hill and found a\npretty village nestled at the base of the great rocks, and shaddock-trees\nloaded with blossom, which perfumed the air. Then we rode to another\ngrand rock, Kasia Lili. I made a sketch of each, and then returned here.\nMy host has most kindly given up his house to me, and has found quarters\nfor himself with his \u201coffisas,\u201d as the people call the police.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _October 13._\n\nAnother day filled with impressions of beauty. Few bits of Scotland can\ncompare with the mountain scenery of these isles. I only wish it were\npossible to make expeditions inland, and explore the dark ravines and\ncorries which seam the great mountain-range of the Kauvandra, along the\nbase of which we have been riding all day.\n\nI was out before daybreak, and went down the hill to have a near look at\na true Kai Tholo house, which I had detected yesterday. The Kai Tholo,\n_i.e._, mountain people, build totally different houses from those on the\ncoast: they are like beehives, with a roof so high pitched as to suggest\na tiny hive on the top of the first.\n\nAfter breakfast we rode to the base of another grand rock-mass\u2014Vatu\nMami\u2014where a little colony of planters received us most cordially, and\nwelcomed us to a real planter\u2019s dinner, served in rough-and-ready style,\nbut none the less acceptable, especially the invariable hot tea. Then we\nrode homeward, skirting the dark Kauvandra hills, and passing several\nvillages more or less interesting from their situation. It was quite dark\nfor the last hour, and we had several difficult creeks and gullies to\ncross, with banks rather like the side of a house; but the horses are so\nsteady, and so perfectly used to this sort of ground, that they scrambled\nup and down like cats, and I had only to sit still and wonder what was\ngoing to happen next.\n\nFinally, we got home all safe, and found that Harry Leefe had arrived\nto take me back to Nananu. He was feasting on roast goat\u2014one which our\nfriend Mr Shinnock had most kindly brought over and killed during our\nabsence. So we had a capital supper, with true hunger sauce.\n\nAnd now I may as well say good-night, as we start for Nananu at daybreak.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NANANU, _October 21_.\n\nDEAR NELL,\u2014You see I am still here, very much at home, and quite happy. I\nfind one becomes greatly enamoured of this sort of life. The weather is\nperfect, and there is a wonderful charm in the little isles, where the\nsea meets one at every turn, and from which we see such lovely morning\nand evening lights. The mainland is just far enough to be glorified; and\nI delight in the wide horizon which encompasses us. Last Tuesday we were\non the highest ground, overlooking isles and coral-reefs, which intersect\nthe blue deep water with lines and patches of vivid green, marking the\nshallows as clearly as if they were drawn on a map. We made a fire and\ncooked our tea in a \u201cbilly.\u201d[47] Just as we had finished, H.M.S. Beagle\nhove in sight flying the Governor\u2019s flag; so we hurried back, and arrived\nin time to welcome him and Captain Knollys. They were on their way to\nthe camp at Nasauthoko, where Mr Le Hunte is now stationed; and they\nsailed the following morning.\n\nI am delighted to tell you that Mr Leefe is planning another expedition\nfor me to the main isle. It certainly is most kind of him to take so\nmuch trouble, for every arrangement here involves many difficulties; and\nleaving home, even for a day, is very inconvenient. Still I do long to\nsee something of the beautiful coast of which we had such tantalising\nglimpses on our way here.\n\nThe first plan was, that we should go up by a small trading schooner\nwhich touched here yesterday, collecting produce; but at the last moment\none of the precious Angora nannie-goats was found to be very ill, so Mr\nLeefe could not leave her. I regret to say she died this morning\u2014a loss\nof \u00a325, to say nothing of the value of her expected kid. They are such\npretty refined creatures, and so tame, that we are all quite sad about\nthis.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NVUNINDAWA ON VITI LEVU, _October 25_.\n\nWell, we have started on our trip. Mr Eastgate kindly lent us his large\npolice-boat, manned by a sergeant and four constables. It arrived on\nMonday morning; but the wind was so very stormy that we delayed our start\ntill Tuesday, when, taking advantage of the high tide to clear the reefs,\nwe came to this village, to meet a friend, who arrived so late that we\ncould proceed no further. We found the chief, Ratu Ezikeli, and his wife,\nAndi Thithilia, in possession of the house of Caleb the teacher, while\ntheir own was being rethatched; but they most courteously insisted on\ngiving it up to us.\n\nWhen we unpacked the box of provisions so kindly prepared by Mrs Leefe,\nwe found she had forgotten the non-essentials,\u2014not one cup or plate,\nknife, fork, or spoon, was there. All we could muster between us was my\npocket-knife and Mr Leefe\u2019s small dirk. We sent a message to the chief\nto ask if he could lend us any cups. He sent us back the only article of\nforeign manufacture he possessed\u2014which was the cover of a vegetable-dish!\nMr Leefe adopted this as a drinking-vessel; I, being content with a\nsmaller allowance, was provided with a cocoa-nut shell. Some pieces\nof bamboo supplied spoons and egg-cups; and with ample store of fresh\nbanana-leaves to act as plates, we fared exceedingly well.\n\nHeavy rain came on at night, and our slumbers were much disturbed by the\nrestlessness of the boatmen, who were, by way of sleeping, in the house\n(which is of the usual pattern, only one room); but Fijians, as a rule,\nare notoriously restless, and these men have been going in and out all\nnight. Now they are making up for it by a long sleep, which is to us an\nunattainable boon. The rain is pouring steadily, and I fear we have lost\nall the fine weather.\n\n * * * * *\n\n IN THE CHURCH AT NA SAU IN VITI LEVU, _October 26_.\n\nAfter all, the rain stopped quite suddenly, and we had a most lovely day\nof bright sunshine and beautiful colouring\u2014every distant isle wonderfully\ndistinct; in short, just that \u201cclear shining after rain\u201d which the old\nHebrew poets so fully appreciated.\n\nWe sailed at once, and reached Va Via about noon. This is one of the\nplaces I most wished to see. It is a lovely village close to the sea,\nbuilt on white sand, and overshadowed by great _ndelo_ trees, with tufts\nof rosy tassels constantly dripping showers of pink stamens on all\naround. High dark cliffs enclose this little bay, casting a cool deep\nshadow during the morning and evening hours. To appreciate the delight\nof this, you must realise the heat of a tropical sun. One family there\nlive in a cave with only a front fence of wattle and leaves. We found\nthe house of Phineas, the village teacher, open, though the family was\nabsent; so we ventured to borrow his kettle and were enjoying our tea\nunder the dark trees, when his young wife returned and welcomed us\ngracefully. Leaving Mr Leefe to do the civilities, I walked up to the\nridge which separates beautiful Va Via from this village. From this point\nthe coast-view, looking either way, is simply exquisite\u2014especially as\nseen in the radiant evening light. I secured one sketch last night, and\nanother this morning; and when you see them, I know you will want to come\nto these lovely isles.\n\nWhen Mr Leefe rejoined me, we walked down to this village\u2014the boat having\nalready gone round to announce our approach. We were at once taken to\nthe house of a most horrid-looking old chief. It was so stuffy, and so\nfull of people, that we voted it quite unendurable, and adjourned to the\nchurch, too thankful to know that in so doing we shocked no prejudice\nof the people. It was cool and pleasant, and near the sea; and in its\nstillness we slept as only the weary can, making up for the previous\nnight\u2019s unrest.\n\nAt sunrise I returned to the ridge and worked steadily till 2\nP.M.\u2014breakfast being brought to me. When I came down I found Ratu\nEzikeli[48] and Mr Jones, who had arrived by canoe. The latter\naccompanied us on a scramble up the bed of a very rocky stream, which\nwas unusually picturesque, from the fact of a very remarkable series\nof waterfalls issuing from under huge boulders: it was suggestive of\nweird German fairy-tales and bottomless caverns. At last we reached\na table-land of _taro_ fields on a very high level; there I found a\nwoman bathing in a most delicious pool, so I halted and joined her\u2014the\ngentlemen finding an equally fascinating bath further on. It was _vinaka\nsara_\u2014that is to say, \u201cvery good,\u201d as you may well understand.\n\nRefreshed and invigorated, we continued our wanderings till we came to\na small village perched on the very face of a cliff\u2014a dizzy site. A\nwoman who had carried a heavy burden from the shore up to this point,\nnow turned along the path that led round the cliff to her house,\u2014a track\nso precipitous, that albeit not troubled with nerves, I did not care to\nface it. We sat awhile at the village overlooking a sea-view of exceeding\nbeauty. While we lingered there, a native climbed up in hot haste to tell\nMr Jones that the large canoe on which he had shipped all his household\ngoods to transfer them to his new quarters, had been swamped on a reef,\u2014a\npleasant piece of news, which we thought might safely have been delayed\ntill our descent.\n\nReturning to the village, where the rocky stream widens as it enters the\nsea, we crossed it in a minute cockle-shell, the smallest boat I ever saw\nin use. It had recently been washed ashore, and a tiny brown urchin was\nin possession of it, and ferried us across, one by one. The last thing\nwashed up by the sea was a good waterproof cloak, blown off some vessel.\n\nOne of the constables made a stew of salt goat and _taro_ for our supper,\nto which the gentlemen added very good scones of flour and sweet-potato.\nSo we fared sumptuously; and now I am going to creep into my tent, which\nis in a corner of the church, so I hope for a peaceful, undisturbed night.\n\n * * * * *\n\n KORO TIKO, IN VITI LEVU BAY, _October 27_.\n\nThis time we really are gipsying. I must just write a few lines by\ncombined lantern and moonlight.\n\nWe left the quiet church of Na Sau very early this morning. A three\nhours\u2019 sail of dreamlike loveliness brought us to Viti Levu Bay, which is\na blue sea lake, embosomed in great hills; its shores are richly wooded\nin parts, but there is some flat ground where good crops of maize are\nraised, and here and there, are strangely conical hills and broken crags,\non which villages nestle in most inaccessible places.\n\nFirst I climbed one hill, and secured a careful sketch of the bay and the\nprincipal crag, while Mr Leefe went to call on a neighbouring planter, an\nAyrshire man, who made some money at the diggings, and then settled here.\nAfterwards he took me there, and we were cordially welcomed and urged to\nstay; but I need hardly tell you that in fine weather I prefer any sort\nof camping out to a semi-European house of this description, surrounded\nby swarms of foreign labour. So I contented myself with admiring the\nwealth of golden maize laid out to dry in the open courtyard before the\nhouse; and then, having obtained leave to camp in a corn-shed beside the\nbay, where we had left our boat, we returned here.\n\nI greatly fear that our landlord is rather hurt at my preferring the\ncorn-store beside the sea to his rough bachelor quarters inland, but\nI must hope he will forgive me. The building in question is the only\none in this part of the bay, and is just a rough wooden shed, in\nwhich our friend stores his corn ready for shipping. The boatmen soon\nheaped up these sacks so as to leave us each a clear corner, and one\nfor themselves. In one of these I hung up my tent as usual\u2014_i.e._, my\nmosquito-net, with a curtain of black waterproof for a door. It is just\nlike the little tents we used to make when we were children, and played\nat being gipsies.\n\nHaving thus prepared our night quarters, we rowed across the bay to Koro\nViti Levu (_koro_ means town), and here we found three tiny villages of\nsmall houses, quaintly perched in every available crevice of the rock,\nand on the summit of a great crag. There are always either a few plants\nof large-leaved banana, tobacco, or sugar-cane\u2014or maybe a flowering\nshaddock, lemon, or hybiscus, with tufts of scarlet or yellow blossom to\nlend grace to these rock-nests, to say nothing of the interest of their\nbrown inhabitants, who peep curiously at us as we approach.\n\nI stopped to sketch at the mouth of the Roko Roko river, then we walked\nto the summit of the crag, and across the promontory till we came to a\ncave where we found about a dozen very slightly clad women making great\ncooking-pots, more than two feet deep (some nearer three feet deep), and\nfrom twenty to thirty inches in diameter. It was a very striking scene,\nas we passed from the glare of the sunlight and of the glittering blue\nsea below us, and turned into this dark workshop. We remained for some\ntime watching the women at work, while they chattered to the boatmen\n(the constables), doubtless glad of our visit to break the monotony of\nthe day. It was wonderful to see with what skill they modelled such very\nlarge pots, simply by eye\u2014attaining perfect symmetry, without a wheel or\nany other mechanical aid.\n\nIn the cool of the evening we rowed back here, and the men prepared our\nsupper, at which the grand centre dish was part of the leg of a young\npig, which we found had been sent on board yesterday by a considerate\nyoung planter. While they were so occupied, I went along the shore till\nI found a good bathing-spot, where the roots of a great _mbaku_ tree had\nfashioned themselves into a screen, making an admirable dressing-room\u2014so\nI had a delightful bathe by moonlight.\n\nNow the mosquitoes are becoming so troublesome that I shall be happier\nunder my net in the corn-shed, though I quite grudge wasting this soft\nlovely moonlight. How the boatmen, who of course have no nets, can endure\nthe mosquitoes, is to me a mystery.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NANANU, _Sunday 29_.\n\nWe are back once more, you see, and enjoying the peace of a calm, quiet\nday. The stillness here is wonderful and pleasant. How I do hate all\nnoise!\n\nWe found that many fellow-creatures had also arranged to spend the night\nin the corn-shed. A multitude of rats had been attracted by the maize,\nand held high revel. Happily, however, they only disported themselves\nunder the raised wattle-floor on which we and the corn-sacks rested; and\nfor my own part, I know I was too weary to mind them, and soon slept in\npeace.\n\nAt sunrise we climbed to the summit of the great crag beneath whose\nshadow we lay. It was a steep ascent, but a succession of beauties\nof vegetation and scenery helped us up. Near the top we found two\nvillages, one of which was well fortified, in addition to holding a\nnatural position of great strength. Only three years ago there was\nsevere fighting here between two tribes, which resulted in a massacre of\nabout 450 people, most of whom were eaten! Now the last possibility of\ndisturbance is over, we believe, for ever; and a lady may wander over\nthese hills alone, in perfect security.\n\nAt the tiny rock village on the upper crag, the people pointed out a\nhuge grave into which, they said, that last year, in the great sickness\n(meaning the measles), they began by throwing in their dead uncounted.\nAfter a while they did begin to keep count, and from that time till the\nplague subsided, seventy bodies were laid in that one pit.\n\nWe descended the hill by another path, very pretty but overgrown; and we\nhad to force our way through tall reeds, ginger, and turmeric plants,\nwhich was hot and exhausting.\n\nIn the afternoon we started on our return cruise, and four hours of\nalternate stiff rowing and sailing brought us back here last night.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _November 1_, Sunrise.\n\nYesterday evening Sir Arthur arrived here in the sixteen-oar barge on\nhis return from the war district, where he has had final arrangements\nto make. Now it is to be hoped that the last spark of danger has been\nstamped out. Mr Le Hunte, having finished his work there, returns with\nSir Arthur, leaving Captain Knollys for the present at the camp. They\nreturn to Nasova this morning, so I will send my letter to catch the\nmail. Good-bye.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NASOVA, _November 13_.\n\nAbout three days after I last wrote to you, the little island-steamboat\nsuddenly arrived, and an hour later I had bidden adieu to Nananu and to\nthe kind friends who call it home. For a few hours we lay off Viti Levu\nbay to take in those identical corn-sacks with which we had become so\nintimately acquainted! The following morning I arrived here, found Lady\nGordon and the children well, and everything about the place continuing\nto become cosier and more home-like month by month. How it was improved\nsince we first arrived! The household pets have received several\nadditions\u2014namely, some young Kai Tholos, orphaned by the war.\n\nYesterday a fine young chief, Ratu Taivita (that is, David), who was\nwith Captain Knollys in the mountains, and has ever since been very ill\nfrom the hardships which he there endured, died. He was very popular,\nand his death is much mourned. It was decided that he should have a\nmilitary funeral, as he was an officer in the native police, and that his\ncompanions in arms should assemble in force to pay him the last tokens\nof respect. He was buried this morning. I went to the funeral with\nCaptain Olive and the Baron. We assembled at his father\u2019s house; and it\nwas a fine striking and touching picture that we there saw. Taivita was\na fine handsome fellow, and he looked grand in death, lying on his mats,\nwith dark native cloth thrown over him, and his mass of tawny silky hair\nthrown back almost on the lap of his sister, who sat on the mats at his\nhead. The old chief, his father, sat at his feet, as one crushed with\nsorrow. Thakombau\u2019s sons, Ratu Abel, Timothy, and Joe, with another very\nhigh chief, Ratu Johnny, were the pall-bearers; and the old Vuni Valu\nfollowed up the steep path which leads to the cemetery, where already so\nmany have found a quiet resting-place beneath the tall palms and waving\ngrasses. The grave was found to be too shallow, and all had to stand for\nan hour in the burning sun while it was deepened\u2014a trying hour for both\nthe father and the old Vuni Valu.\n\nThere is a chance of sending letters to New Zealand, so I may as well\ndespatch this.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NASOVA, _December 22_.\n\nDEAR EISA,\u2014There has been nothing special to tell you for a good while.\nOur principal events have been attending a concert in Levuka, given in\naid of the hospital, and a dance given by the Engineer officers, in\nthe old house formerly occupied by the Layards, and now by themselves.\nHappily, being on the sea-level, we were able to go and return by boat.\nNow we are much occupied with our approaching trip to New Zealand. Little\nNevil has had a very severe attack of influenza, followed by fever. So Dr\nMacgregor has positively decided that the children must not spend another\nhot season here; and we are to start immediately for Khandavu, our\noutermost isle, which lies far to the south, and where the three Pacific\nmail-steamers continue to call every month, and tranship their passengers\nfor San Francisco, New Zealand, and Australia, although under protest.\nSo they have kept us on tenter-hooks for a year already, expecting that\neach month would be their last call\u2014a very inconvenient condition. Even\nnow, though the mail is due on Christmas Day, no one is sure that she\nwill call, in which case we are to go all the way to New Zealand in the\nvery uncomfortable little island-steamer, Star of the South. One thing to\nwhich we look forward with positive delight, is the prospect of once more\nseeing carriages and horses, and being able to enjoy comfortable drives.\nDo you realise that for more than a year we have not heard the sound of\nwheels![49] I believe the Engineers have imported a few wheelbarrows,\nwhich the Fijians at first carried about with great care. These are the\nonly wheeled vehicles in the group. As to telegraphy, we have a sort of\ndim recollection that something of the sort exists, but it will be many a\nlong day before its imperative messages reach us here.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII.\n\n START FOR NEW ZEALAND\u2014EXTINCT VOLCANOES\u2014SIR GEORGE GREY\u2019S\n TREASURES\u2014TREE-KANGAROOS.\n\n\n AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND, _Sunday Night, December 31, 1876_.\n\nAll best greetings to you, one and all. We arrived yesterday in New\nZealand, and it is now 10 P.M. on New Year\u2019s Eve. We had to leave\nNasova on Christmas Eve (Sunday), but not till the afternoon; so we had\nthe pleasure of seeing our poor little church all transformed, by the\nhelp of great tree-ferns and palm-fronds, and a moderate amount of red\ncloth\u2014simple but very effective decoration. The palm-fronds especially\nare invaluable, as one on each side of an arched window does all that is\nrequired.\n\nAfter luncheon we embarked\u2014our party consisting of Lady Gordon, Jack\nand Nevil, Mrs Abbey and the Portuguese nurse, Mr Maudslay, and myself.\nThe cabin was such an uncomfortable little hole that only the children\nwere condemned to sleep there, while we preferred remaining on deck,\nnotwithstanding some rain-squalls. We reached Khandavu on Christmas\nmorning, and found a very fine large American steamer, the City of\nSydney, waiting for the arrival of the mail from San Francisco, which\nwas to give her the New Zealand passengers, and go on to Australia. Our\nlittle steamer did seem like a pigmy as we ran alongside of the great\nmail-steamer, with her clear deck, allowing an unbroken walk of about 300\nfeet.\n\nWe went on board at once, and the jovial old half-caste stewardess told\nus that on the last trip they carried 250 cabin passengers, besides an\nimmense menagerie. We somewhat dreaded the probability of so huge an\ninflux, and anxiously awaited the arrival of the San Francisco mail.\nShe came, and a few moments later up went the yellow flag. Dr Mayo had\nfound a case of suspected small-pox, so of course quarantined her at\nonce. After the frightful scourge of measles, brought on by allowing\none infected Fijian to land, you can quite understand that quarantine\nregulations are strict. Great was the excitement and discussion. The\nAustralia wanted to give us all the New Zealand passengers, but our\ncaptain happily stood firm, proving that such a course would result in\nboth ships being quarantined, and none available for the mail-service\nnext month. So it was decided that both should go to Auckland. Our great\nship was literally empty, and consequently very dull. We sailed at the\nsame moment as the Australia, and though far apart, kept alongside of one\nanother the whole way, and never saw another sail.\n\nYesterday at dawn we neared Auckland, and the Australia slipped quietly\ninto quarantine harbour, the poor fellow who was ill having settled\nall doubts by dying the previous day. He was buried at sea. Two fresh\ncases have also appeared. It is very trying for all the passengers,\nwhose families are here, expecting them for the New Year. Meanwhile we\ncame calmly to our anchorage; but as no one in Auckland seemed capable\nof realising that two steamers had arrived, and that we were not also\nin quarantine, no friends came to meet us; so we found our way to the\nprincipal hotel, which is not much to boast of, and is at present\ncrowded for the races. However, the landlady managed to stow us away in\na series of pigeon-holes, and I then found my way to the post-office,\nwhere I was assured there were no letters for any of us, but, after much\nperseverance, succeeded in extracting an enormous budget, including\ntwelve home letters for myself, which kept me busy all the rest of the\nday.\n\nOur first impressions of Auckland are not imposing. It is a town of\nmoderate size, now in a transition state from the wooden-house period to\nthe brick era. What chiefly strikes me is, that even at this time of the\nraces it is so quiet and orderly, scarcely a symptom of drink, and every\none looks so comfortable and so tidily dressed.\n\nAs yet I have seen no one who looks poor. Yet, on the other hand, we\nsee no symptoms of wealth, such as met us at every turn in Sydney. But\nthen, I fancy, all the rich people live down in the southern provinces,\nWellington, Christchurch, and Dunedin, which, I fear, we shall not be\nable to visit. From what we hear of financial difficulties in these\nparts, we are beginning to think that our poor little Fiji is, after all,\nnot so exceptionally pauperish. Imagine this young colony having already\ncontracted a national debt of upwards of twenty millions! But she follows\nthe example of her mother, and bears the burden very cheerfully.\n\nTo-day, being Sunday, I have been at two English churches, each having\nsurpliced choir and bright Christmas decorations. This morning just in\nfront of me sat a body of native police, Maoris. They are fine strapping\nfellows, like very good specimens of Englishmen, only a shade darker; but\ntheir captain, a very handsome man, is richly tattooed on both cheeks\nwith dark-blue lines, like moustaches. They are the first coloured race\nI have seen who can assume the broadcloth of civilisation without being\nthereby hopelessly vulgarised. I am also much struck by the beauty of the\nAnglo-Maori half-castes, all previous experience in other lands having\nled me in a great measure to sympathise with the aversion commonly felt\ntowards mixed races, who so often unite the worst characteristics of\nboth. Here this rule seems to be reversed, and I am told that the mixed\nrace is as superior intellectually as it is physically.\n\nAt this season there are a large number of Maoris in town, attracted\nby the annual gifts so freely dispensed by the English Government. All\nthe men are picturesque, and enliven their civilised costume by some\ntouch of bright colours: a brilliant scarf, thrown round the hat or the\nshoulders, lends something of Spanish grace to the wearer. But hats\ntrimmed with loads of commonest artificial flowers do not look in keeping\nwith the shock of unkempt hair overhanging the great dark eyes, and long\ngreen-stone ear-rings of the girls, whose lips and chins are disfigured\nby curves of dark-blue tattooing. Many of them wear bright tartan shawls;\nand all seem sensitive to cold, for they are much wrapped up, even on\nthese hot midsummer days.\n\nI have been amused at watching the meeting of several parties of friends.\nTheir form of salutation is neither kissing, as in Europe, nor smelling\none another, as in Fiji, but they press their noses together, which to\nour unaccustomed eye looks truly absurd.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _New Year\u2019s Morning, 1877._\n\nI had written so far when my candle went out, so I sat in the dark\nlistening to a real piper in the distance playing \u201cThe Campbells are\nComing.\u201d Then the clock struck midnight, and the Volunteer band marched\ndown the street playing cheerily; and many bursts of anything but music\narose on every side, proving the lungs of the people to be in exceedingly\ngood condition.\n\n * * * * *\n\n DEVONSHIRE HOUSE, HOBSON STREET, _January 8_.\n\nWe moved into these lodgings as soon as possible, and have had some\npleasant drives and walks. Auckland lies, as it were, in a cluster of\nextinct volcanoes. The largest and most perfect specimen is Rangitoto\u2014a\ngreat triple cone rising from a base of black lava, very rough and\nuninviting. The principal crater, near the town, is now known as\nMount Eden, and its steep grassy slopes are dotted with pleasant\nEnglish houses. On its summit there are still traces of the old Maori\nfortification, in artificially levelled terraces, surrounding the deep\ncrater, in which a whole tribe might lie concealed in case of attack.\nI sat on the edge of the crater, and sketched the town looking towards\nthree volcanoes. The country all round is dotted with these, but most of\nthem are insignificant little hills. Of course they give great interest\nto the town, but it is not pretty, though the harbour is pleasant. It\nreminds me of some towns in the south of England, with the addition\nof a good land-locked harbour. All the beauty lies further south. The\nprimeval forest which formerly clothed this now barren land has wholly\ndisappeared. What the woodman\u2019s axe spared has been swept away by\nruthless burning.\n\nTo-day we are going to stay with Sir George Grey on his island-home at\nKawau. Mr Whittaker, who is now Prime Minister, has offered Lady Gordon\nthe beautiful Government steamer Hinemoa, to take us there. On our way we\nare to call at the Wai Wera hot springs, which are much celebrated as a\ncure for rheumatism and other ailments. But though they lie in a pretty\nbay, the waters themselves have been imprisoned in baths; and a large\nhotel is built close by to accommodate a hundred patients.\n\nI am told, however, that there are some marvellously beautiful geysers\nand terraces of natural baths somewhere in the Maori country, not very\nfar from here. I have not yet met any one who has seen them; for, as you\nknow, people never do go to see things near home, but I hope to find my\nway there ere long.\n\n * * * * *\n\n ISLE OF KAWAU, TWENTY MILES FROM AUCKLAND, _January 9_.\n\nYesterday morning Mr Whittaker came to escort us on board the Hinemoa,\nwhich brought us here in great comfort, to receive the most cordial of\nwelcomes from kind Sir George Grey. I suppose you remember that he was\nGovernor here many years ago, and proved himself the stanch friend, both\nof the Maoris and of the white settlers; then he was made Governor of the\nCape of Good Hope (where he arrived just after Roualeyn returned from his\nlion-hunting).\n\nAfter this he was a second time appointed Governor of New Zealand. And\nso dearly does he love both the country and the people, that, when\nhis term of office had expired, he bought this charming island, built\na regular English house, and devoted himself to making it a little\nParadise\u2014an effort in which nature readily seconds him, so kindly does\nthis good foster-mother (New Zealand) adopt every living thing, animal or\nvegetable, that is brought to her care.\n\nSo palms and pines of many sorts here grow side by side, with all kinds\nof indigenous hard wood; hops and vines festoon orange-trees, while\nmulberries and loquats, apples, quinces, pears, and strawberries, all\nflourish. Peaches, apricots, and figs grow into luxuriant thickets\nwherever they are once planted, and bear fruit abundantly. Flowers are\nequally luxuriant,\u2014and one tithe of the care bestowed on a garden in Fiji\nis here rewarded by a glow of blossom: sweet-peas, jessamine, mignonette,\nand many other wellnigh forgotten delights, make the whole air fragrant.\n\nThe house stands at the head of a lovely little bay, and only a\ngreen lawn and a belt of tall flowering aloes intervene between\nit and the shore. This bay, like all the shores of the isle, is\nfringed with large trees, called by the Maoris Pohutakawa\u2014_i.e._, the\nbrine-sprinkled\u2014because it loves to outstretch its wide boughs over\nthe salt sea; but the English settlers call it the Christmas-tree,[50]\nbecause it invariably blossoms at Christmas-time, and boughs of its\nscarlet flowers take the place of holly in church-decoration. When in its\nprime, each tree is one mass of glowing scarlet; and the effect of its\nflame-coloured branches overhanging the bright blue water, and dripping\nshowers of fiery stamens in the sea or on the grass, is positively\ndazzling. Already the first burst of colour is passing off, but enough\nremains to give marvellous beauty to the shores.\n\nThe house is like a cosy old English home\u2014every room wood-panelled,\nand full of strange treasures from many lands. Good old engravings and\npictures; wonderful specimens of old Maori carving; weapons and robes\nof all sorts, including rare feather-cloaks; precious objects from the\nSummer Palace, including a jade-tablet, which was a page in the Emperor\nof China\u2019s genealogy; priceless ancient gold jewels from Mexico; the\nstone-axe of the greatest monarch of the Sandwich Isles; and, strangest\nof all, some beautiful old china, which for the last two centuries has\nlain at the bottom of the sea, and has now been rescued from a vessel\nwhich was sunk off the Cape two hundred years ago. In the delightful\nlibrary of carefully selected and valuable works are many old manuscripts\nof the greatest interest, including about fifteen bound volumes in Arabic\ncharacter, but written in some dialect of Central Africa which is as\nyet unknown. These are an Ancient African history. Sir George knew of\nits existence, and advertised for it when he was Governor of the Cape.\nMany years afterwards, a case containing the volumes was brought to him\nby a man-of-war, whose captain stated that a fine old Arab gentleman\nat Zanzibar had brought it on board, and made him understand that it\ncontained manuscripts which he had succeeded in rescuing from the\ninterior. Only think what strange historical mysteries may one day be\nsolved, when some Arabic scholar shall take to dialect-hunting in Central\nAfrica, and return competent to read these now sealed books!\n\nThe children are in Paradise, racing about and finding pets of every\nsort, all at large,\u2014gold and silver pheasants, and multitudes of common\nones. As to skylarks, the whole air seems musical with their lovely\nwarble. I can hardly realise that they, like the too abundant thistles\non the mainland, are all imported from Scotland. Last night we strolled\nup to the dairy\u2014a nice clean English dairy. The path lay over swelling\npasture-land\u2014just like Sussex downs\u2014with sheep and cattle feeding. After\nso long a spell in Fiji, where grass generally means tall reeds, meeting\nfar above your head, the mere fact of walking over short meadow-grass is\ncharming; and then to sit on it, watching the sun set over the sea, and\nlistening to the\n\n \u201cBusy crowd\n Of larks in purest air.\u201d\n\ncarried me right back to Gordonstown, and our own green hills overlooking\nthe Moray Firth. This is the purest air you can imagine. It is just warm\nenough to be pleasant, and slightly bracing, but not too sudden a change\nfrom the tropics.\n\nI have just come in from an exquisite walk with our kind host. He does\nlove this island, which he has beautified with so much care, and has been\nshowing me all manner of interesting things. Amongst others, in a quiet\nglade of most carefully preserved native bush, we saw a large number of\nlovely little tree-kangaroos, of which Sir. George imported the first\npair from New Guinea, and which have already multiplied exceedingly. They\nare small animals, as beautiful as they are rare, with the richest brown\nfur, and when feeding in the grassy glades you would naturally mistake\nthem for hares; but at the faintest sound they sit upright, and standing\non their long hind-legs, they bound away with a succession of leaps, and\nreappear springing from bough to bough, and peering cautiously from among\nthe dark foliage.\n\nBesides these squirrel-like beauties, there are large numbers of common\nkangaroos, or wallabies, as they are commonly called; and herds of\nIndian elk, fallow deer, and even red deer, roam at large. Mr Maudslay\nlooks forward to some pleasant days of pheasant-shooting, and also in\npursuit of wild cattle and wild pigs. As to the wallabies, they are\nalmost beneath the dignity of a true sportsman\u2014so very deliberate is\ntheir strange leaping retreat, and so frequently do they pause to gaze\nwistfully at him. I believe that even these are imported animals, and\nthat New Zealand, like Fiji, possessed literally no indigenous quadrupeds\nexcept a small rat. There are some specimens of the wingless birds still\nliving on this isle as in a haven of refuge; and amongst the house\ntreasures, there is a skeleton of the great extinct moa, which is like a\ngigantic ostrich.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _January 12._\n\nTo-day we have had quite a novel excitement. A large party of Maoris\narrived in half-a-dozen good English boats. They were fishing for\nsharks\u2014not the common shark, though it also haunts these seas, but a\nsmall kind, rarely exceeding six feet in length, which they dry for\nwinter food. As all the Maoris come here on the most friendly terms,\nMr George (married to Sir George Grey\u2019s niece) took Jack, Nevil, and\nmyself on board their biggest boat. They had already caught upwards of\nfifty, which were thrown into the hold, and we saw ten more, caught with\nbait. When hauled in, the sharks receive a violent blow on the nose,\nwhich apparently kills them at once. In some seasons the Maoris catch as\nmany as 15,000 off this island, and they take them to a small isle in\nthe neighbourhood where they hang them up to dry; you can imagine how\nfragrant the atmosphere becomes! Mr George tells me he has seen a wall\nthree hundred feet long, and at least six feet high, of this unsavoury\nwinter store.\n\nOf course to me this glimpse of true Maori life has been most\ninteresting. Afterwards the fishers came to see Sir George, for whom they\nhave a great affection and respect, and with good cause. His knowledge\nof their language is said to be quite perfect. He has collected a great\nnumber of their old songs and legends, and published them; and now a sect\ncalled Hau-Hau, who have thrown off their early faith in Christianity,\nand made up an amalgamated religion for themselves, read this book in\ntheir churches as being the Maori Bible, and more edifying to them than\nthe legends of Syria.\n\nIt is so strange to hear Sir George tell of all the changes he has seen\nhere since the days when he selected the sites of the settlements, each\nof which is now a great city\u2014Christchurch for the English Church party,\nand Dunedin for the Scots. When he first knew the latter it was the home\nof one old sailor. Later he visited the place and found a flourishing\nvillage. After fifteen years, when he returned from the Cape of Good\nHope, about 7000 people came out several miles to meet him, and took\nhim by a back way to the great town hall, built on the site where first\nhe had pitched his tent; then they led him to the front, where he was\nreceived by upwards of a thousand well-dressed ladies.\n\n * * * * *\n\n IN AN OLD MAORI PAH, KAWAU, _Sunday, Jan. 28, 1877_.\n\nDEAREST EISA,\u2014The day is so lovely that I have brought my writing up to\nthis pleasant old fort, and am sitting on the grassy top of a yellow\nsandstone cliff which rises sheer from a sea so clear that, as I look\nover the precipices, I can see the white-breasted cormorants (the\n_kawau_) dive for fish, and swim after them under water for ever so far.\nThe only symptom of fighting which remains on this peaceful spot is a\ndeep ditch which runs round the land side; but every marked headland\nhereabouts has been a _pah_ or fort, where in old days tattooed warriors\nfought to the death. Those on this island were noted pirates, and at\nlast all the neighbouring tribes united to destroy them. It is peaceful\nenough now, but matters are by no means over secure on the mainland.[51]\n\nThe state of things existing in this country ts most extraordinary.\nImagine that, within twenty miles of Auckland, there is a vast tract of\nland on which no white man dare set foot. Only outlaws, murderers, and\nsuchlike, are there allowed to take refuge, and justice cannot touch\nthem. Sometimes out of respect to Sir George, they will give a personal\nfriend of his permission to travel through the country; but when he sent\nMr Maudslay up last week, they turned him back.\n\nA number of them come here to consult Sir George upon various matters.\nMost of them are very fine men; and what particularly strikes us is\nseeing how well they look in comfortable woollen suits. I believe the\nMaoris always did wear plenty of clothes\u2014at least large blankets,\nbeautifully made either of flax or _kiwi_ feathers. When Mr Maudslay\nwas in their country last week, he showed them a number of Fijian\nphotographs, at which they looked with keen interest; but were much\nshocked by the undress of the girls, which, they remarked, was even worse\nthan that of the ladies at the Government House balls!\n\nThe climate here is delicious: each day is like a very lovely English\nsummer, or like our coolest days in Fiji. Indeed our life here is much\nthe same as if we were living on one of the Fijian isles,\u2014just as\nisolated and self-contained.\n\nOnly once a-week does a steamer call with the mails, and great is the\nexcitement it occasions. All the families living on the island (numbering\nabout six, gardener, carpenter, shepherds, and labourers) assemble on the\nbeach with all their babies. The six house-maidens, three of whom are the\ndaughters of one of the resident families, also turn out. They wear neat\ncotton dresses, and large straw-hats, trimmed with white muslin and black\nvelvet; and very nice and simple they look. Sir George extends to all his\npeople the same genial cordiality and genuine kindness by which he makes\nus feel so thoroughly at home here. His one wish is that all should enjoy\nthis little paradise of peace and beauty as much as he does himself. So\nevery girl in the house is allowed two hours\u2019 walk every afternoon, and\nthe whole of Sunday afternoon; and once a-week they have a dance, to\nwhich they invite the few swains within reach, and have a very lively\nevening. Most of their fathers own a bit of land somewhere, and they will\nprobably marry small landowners.\n\nSuch a sad thing happened quite lately on the mainland just opposite\nhere. A young man had just received his bride elect from her parents,\nand the two started alone to ride to Auckland (distant about twenty-five\nmiles), there to get married. In the dusk he struck a match to light\nhis pipe. His horse reared, threw him down a bank, and he was killed\ninstantly. The wretched girl had to ride on alone till she reached a\nhouse, where she found people, who returned with her to rescue his body.\nCertainly the dwellers in thinly-peopled districts have to face many a\nrough bit on their path through life.\n\nAs to ourselves, life goes on very peacefully, and very pleasantly. We\nexplore all the lovely bays and the little valleys and headlands, and\nadmire the care with which every natural advantage has been preserved and\nfresh beauties added. Certainly this is a paradise for acclimatisation;\nand in a very few years it will be hard to guess what is indigenous and\nwhat imported. There are pines and cypresses from every corner of the\nglobe; Australian gums; silver-leaved trees from the Cape; and all manner\nof fruit-bearing trees, planted for the enjoyment of all alike. And\nthese mingle freely with all forms of hardwood peculiar to New Zealand,\nnotably the stately _kauri_ pine (_Dammara australis_), which is peculiar\nto the province of Auckland, and very similar to the _ndakua_ pine of\nFiji; and neither of them would at the first glance be recognised by the\nunlearned to be pines at all, their foliage being small oblong leaves,\nand their cones insignificant; their stem is perfectly upright. There is\nan indigenous palm here, called the _nikau_, a species of areka; and the\ngreen drac\u00e6na (_Cordyline australis_) flourishes on all moist soil. The\nsettlers call it the cabbage-tree, though its cluster of long handsome\nleaves crowning a tall stem is nowise suggestive of that familiar\nvegetable. The Maoris call it the _ti_ tree\u2014by which name the whites,\nin common with the Australian blacks, call a scrubby shrub, somewhat\nresembling juniper or gigantic heather, which to the Maoris is known\nas _manakau_. Its foliage consists of tiny needles, while its delicate\nwhite blossoms resemble myrtle. It grows in dense thickets, and spreads\nso rapidly as to cause endless trouble to the settler who endeavours to\nconvert the hillsides into such pleasant slopes of English grass as those\nwhich here appear so perfectly natural, that I could at first hardly\nbelieve them to be the result of patient toil.\n\nJust below the headland where I am now sitting, there are tufts of\nhandsome green flags. This is the precious New Zealand flax (_Phormium\ntenax_). Its handsome stalk of red blossom (fully ten feet high) is a\nspecial attraction to the bees; and great are the treasures of wild honey\nto be dug out of the banks, by wily hunters. The long leaves of this flax\nare nature\u2019s ready-made cords and straps, so strong is the fibre, and\nso readily do the leaves split into the narrowest strips. At the base\nof each leaf there is a coating of strong gum, which, I believe, is the\nchief difficulty in employing machinery in the manufacture of this flax,\nso as to render it a profitable article of commerce.\n\nAs to tree-ferns of many kinds, their luxuriance is not to be surpassed.\nIn some deep shady places I have seen them growing stems fully thirty\nfeet high; while other green gullies are wholly overshadowed by great\nfronds which on the under side gleam like silver. Imagine the delight\nof losing yourself in such a dream of loveliness, and perhaps coming\nsuddenly on a thicket of figs or peaches, loaded with ripe fruit! Then\nwandering homeward through the meadows, by the course of a sparkling\nbrooklet, and gathering mushrooms and water-cresses in abundance, while\noverhead the larks are singing in chorus.\n\nAnother luxury is the abundance of oysters. The island has a coast-line\nof about thirty miles, along which lie a succession of oyster-beds. Not\ncontent with covering the rocks, they grow on the lower branches of the\nbeautiful \u201cbrine-sprinkled\u201d _pohutakawa_ trees, which literally dip into\nthe sea. And so we sit beneath their shadow and knock the oysters off\nwith a sharp stone, and have feasts which any epicure might envy; for\nthe oysters are of excellent flavour. I own that at first I did feel\nconsiderable repugnance to this method of eating my fellow-creatures\n(which certainly seemed near akin to the Fijian taste for eating various\nsmall fish alive); but having once been induced to try it, I plead guilty\nto being now foremost at every oyster picnic, being fully satisfied\nthat the interesting mollusc must be devoid of nerves, and of all\nconsciousness of the pleasures of existence!\n\n * * * * *\n\n _February 13._\n\nI must tell you about a wonderful effect of phosphorescence which I\nhave seen on the last two nights while looking down from my window\nto the lovely little bay. On Sunday the 11th there had been violent\nthunderstorms, with vivid lightning and downpours of rain, leaden skies,\nand a bright-green sea. So heavy were the rain-storms that the whole bay\nwas discoloured by the red mud washed down by the streamlets\u2014a strange\ncontrast to its usually faultless crystalline green. I chanced to look\nout about 11 P.M., and saw the whole bay glowing with pale white light;\nand fiery wavelets rippled right up beneath the trees and round the\nrocks, which stood out sharp and black. The effect was of a sea of living\nlight, and as I beheld it, framed by dark trees, with tall flowering\naloes cutting black against the dazzling light, it was a weird and\nwonderful scene. For about ten minutes I watched it entranced, then it\nslowly faded away, and the scene was changed to dense obscurity. Last\nnight I looked out at the same hour, and saw nothing but darkness, but\nabout midnight I was awakened by a deafening crash of thunder, followed\nby heavy rain. I guessed this would stir up whatever creatures caused\nthe strange pallid light. Perhaps they are disturbed by the rain-drops,\nor perhaps they receive a small electric shock which starts them all\ndancing. Whatever be the cause, the result proved as I expected. Ere I\ncould reach the window, the bay was illuminated by tiny ripples of fire,\nwhich gradually increased in size and number till all was one blaze of\nglowing dazzling light. This lasted for about five minutes, and then died\ncompletely away.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _March 4._\n\nThe Fiji mail has brought us most sad news\u2014namely, the death from\ndysentery of Mrs Macgregor, the last remaining of our original\nsisterhood. I was with her the very day we left Levuka, and within\nsix weeks she had passed away, leaving one wee lassie, little Nell,\nabout three years old, also an older boy in Scotland. It seems such\na little while since we watched Mrs de Ricci pass away from the same\ndread illness. And now we hear that Mr Eyre is very ill at Nasova, and\nthat he must be sent here on sick-leave as soon as he can be moved.\nColonel Pratt was invalided some time ago, and has been for some weeks\nin Auckland. Sir George invited him to come here, and we expected him by\nseveral successive steamers, but each time he was too ill to come; once\nhe fainted twice in one day. Certainly he ought not to risk returning\nto Fiji. It seems too foolish\u2014and poor Mrs Macgregor\u2019s death is a\nterrible warning of how little resistance to dysentery can be made by a\nconstitution when once enfeebled by the climate, and Colonel Pratt has\nlong felt it to be trying and exhausting.[52]\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV.\n\n GOLD MINES\u2014A NEW CITY\u2014NATIVE DEFENCES\u2014KAURI FOREST\u2014A HARD\n RIDE\u2014KATI KATI\u2014TAURANGA GATE PAH, AND CEMETERY\u2014OHINEMUTU\u2014A\n VOLCANIC REGION.\n\n\n GRAHAMSTOWN, THAMES GOLD-FIELDS, _March 23, 1877_.\n\nMY DEAR ALEXA,\u2014You see I have struck quite a new line of country\u2014very\ndifferent to peaceful Kawau, which we left a fortnight ago, returning to\nAuckland for a change. Now Lady Gordon and the children have once more\ngone back to the isle, but I determined to see something of the country,\nso in the first instance came here to see real gold-diggings. Five hours\nby steamer brought me to this great baby town, where kindest welcome\nawaited me in the home of Captain Fraser, the warden of the gold-fields,\nan Inverness man, who has lived out here for many years, and is immensely\nrespected. His wife comes from Fife, and I find we have several friends\nin common. Though a gentle little lady, she must be a woman of rare\npluck, for all through the Maori war, when her husband had contracts for\ncommissariat, &c., she herself had, in his absence, to superintend all\nthe farrier and blacksmith work, do what she could to prevent the men\nfrom drinking (in which task she was often unsuccessful), and look after\nthe packing and despatching of a whole regiment of pack-horses. She had\nalso to keep all the accounts, and attend to many other matters. At other\ntimes she was left quite alone\u2014that is, with only one maid-servant, and\nwas warned every night that it would probably be her last. These are the\nsort of incidents you gather in those new countries, in the history of\nlives that seem so quiet!\n\nI am amused to find that the gold-fields here are really great rocky\nmountains, and that there is not a scrap of level ground in the place,\nexcept what has been artificially constructed. So, after all, I have\nnot found my way to \u201cthe diggings\u201d as I supposed. I find that term only\napplies to the alluvial gold-fields, where gold has been washed down from\nthe mountains. Here it is all embedded in quartz-veins running through\nthe rocks, and needs hard work to get it out.\n\nEight years ago this place was all wild New Zealand bush\u2014the mountains\ndensely wooded to the shore. Now not a tree remains (save those planted\nin gardens); and the well-scraped hills are all burrowed, as if a colony\nof rabbits had been at work. When first gold was found here there was a\ngrand rush, and this great town sprang up. Then it fell off; but within\nthe last three weeks such a quantity of gold has been found in the\nMoanatairi mine, that the place is once more in a ferment, and large\nfortunes have been lost and won in a day over mining shares.\n\nOf course I went to see the lucky mine. We had to walk along a main\ntunnel, three-quarters of a mile long, all lighted with gas, and the\nwhole roof sparkling with tiny green stars\u2014the lamps of a very ugly\nworm (not our glow-worm). From this main tunnel shafts descend to the\ndifferent mines, and, in some cases, side drives diverge. The latter,\nbeing easier of access, suited me best, and answered the purpose as well.\nI went into various burrows, where the men were hard at work\u2014generally\ntwo in partnership; and some nice lads worked extra hard (with pickaxe)\nto try and find a scrap of gold for me.\n\nThen we went to see the batteries where the quartz is crushed and the\ngold extracted by various processes (all this by mighty machinery).\nBut the most powerful of all is the huge pump, whose shaft is 650 feet\ndeep, and which pumps all the mines. The water deposits silica in such\nquantities that the great tubes are coated every few days with an\nincrustation about an inch thick, that has to be removed with a chisel.\n\nA good deal of the gold can only be got by pounding the quartz till it\nbecomes white mud (through which quicksilver is run to amalgamate the\ngold). Then the quicksilver is boiled and distilled, and it passes off\nin steam, leaving the gold pure. The gold is brought to the bank to be\nmelted again and made into bricks. I was there yesterday when 12,000\nounces were brought in, in six lumps larger than a man\u2019s head. They had\nto be broken up with wedge and sledge-hammer, into pieces small enough\nfor the melting-pot, out of which the red gold was poured, when liquid,\ninto moulds, already greased\u2014or rather oiled\u2014which oil blazed up; and\nthen the mould was cooled in water, and the golden brick produced.\nI said red gold,\u2014for so it looked when melted; but the bricks are\nsickly-looking, owing to the amount of silver in the ore\u201430 per cent.\n\nSo much for the gold which has produced this big baby town; but the\ntown itself astonishes me most, as the growth of eight years\u2014a large\ntown, stretching along the shore for two miles; and apart from the huge\nbatteries and chimneys and mining buildings of all sorts, it is quite a\npleasant town,\u2014great part of it built on land actually reclaimed from the\nsea by the mining-stuff thrown out (clean quartz and sandstone). Every\nminer has a nice house and garden, quantities of fruit and flowers, and\ngenerally a tidy wife and family.\n\nOn Sunday all work stops, and the whole population turn out, well dressed\nand orderly. There are churches of every conceivable denomination\u2014all\nwell filled. The Church of England, where we were on Sunday, is large and\nhandsome, with a \u00a3300 stained-glass window. A very fine naval reserve\ncorps, and a military cadet corps, were present (all miners); and there\nis a strong volunteer corps of Scotchmen (also miners). Altogether, I\nnever saw a more satisfactory community than this big baby mining city;\nand having the beautiful sea is such an advantage\u2014steamers always coming\nand going. I cannot help comparing the advantages of life in New Zealand\nwith those of poor colonists in Fiji: why, in the matter of house-rent\nalone,\u2014Captain Fraser bought this pretty house, with good garden and\ngrounds, for \u00a3400; whereas at Levuka the Havelocks were paying \u00a3218\na-year rent for a much smaller house, with no garden to speak of.\n\nCaptain Fraser has just told me that he will make arrangements to enable\nme to ride across country into the wonderful volcanic district which I am\nlonging to see. My luggage will return to Auckland by one steamer, and go\nthence by another steamer to Tauranga, where I shall find it, so I can\nonly keep as much as can be strapped to my side-saddle. When the plan was\nfirst suggested, I was told the tracks would be impassable and the ride\nimpracticable; but Captain Fraser says that if I can stand some rough\nwork, I can do it well enough. So he is taking no end of trouble to plan\na pleasant expedition for me, and make my way easy; he will lend me his\nown horses, and is writing to his friends all along my route to request\nthem to show me hospitality, and act escort from one point to the next.\n\nSo next Tuesday I am to go by steamer up the river Thames to Ohinemuri,\nand thence ride to the house of Mr Allom, who is here now, but returns\nhome to-morrow, and who will put me up for a night; and next day he and\nhis daughter will ride with me to Kati Kati, a new Irish settlement of\ncolonists from Belfast, headed by Mr Vesey Stewart. The colony includes\none Englishman\u2014namely, Arthur Fisher, Bishop Eden\u2019s grandson! How I do\nstumble on home-links everywhere! He is to be electrified by a telegram,\nrequesting him to meet us at the ford and guide us over. How astonished\nhe will be!\n\nAll further stages of the road are planned with equal care, so I have the\nprospect of a very delightful expedition.\n\n * * * * *\n\n KATI KATI, _March 29_.\n\n... I must tell you about my journey here from the Thames gold-fields.\nFirst, three hours in a capital little steamer, the Te Aroha, up\nthe lovely river Thames, passing through forests of the white pine\n(_kahikatia_), with shapely blue hills beyond, and the banks of the river\nfringed with lovely vegetation\u2014New Zealand flax, convolvulus, tree-ferns,\nmasses of sweet-brier (imported), and splendid weeping willows, also\nimported, but now growing more luxuriantly than I ever saw them do in\nEngland. And here and there rich pasture-land and many cattle feeding,\nmostly the property of the Maoris, for we were now passing through lands\nreserved by the natives, and saw many of their villages.\n\nWe reached the steamboat\u2019s destination at sunset, when the hills were\ncrimson and purple, and had the luck to see a real native _pah_ which\nthe inhabitants have just fortified, to prevent a hostile tribe from\ncoming up the river. It was nothing to look at, only reeds and posts, but\ninteresting of course. All the wild unkempt women came out to look at me,\nand we waved hands. Lucky for me that we were safe out of nose-rubbing\ndistance! The civilised Maoris have taken to European ways in every\nrespect\u2014have English houses, carriages, &c.; even dressing-tables with\nwhite muslin covers and pink lining!\n\nAt the landing-place I was met by Mr Allom. One of Captain Fraser\u2019s\nhorses had been sent for me; I have my own excellent saddle, and we had a\nlovely moonlight ride of about five miles along the beautiful Ohinemuri\nriver (that means \u201cthe girl I have left\u201d). I received most cordial\nwelcome from Mrs Allom, a handsome pleasant lady (none the less so for\nmany years of severe roughing), and the mother of a large family. They\nare now living in a rough wooden shanty, and themselves doing all their\ncooking, &c., in the one living-room. They made me most comfortable; and\nat break of day Mrs A. was astir, quietly and unaffectedly, preparing\na capital breakfast (having fed the horses herself at 4 A.M.), and\nat 7 A.M. Mr A., his eldest daughter, and I, started to ride here\u2014a\ntwenty-five miles\u2019 ride, which became twenty-eight by our having to make\na long circuit round a swamp, as the foot-track which we were following\ncrossed an innocent-looking creek, in which the foremost horse got\nhideously bogged.\n\nOur first mile lay through the most exquisite tract of bush I have\never seen anywhere, though my experience in tropical isles has made\nme somewhat fastidious in this matter. But here nature seems to have\nsurpassed herself, as if rejoicing in her own loveliness, so artistic is\nthe grouping of varied foliage and clumps of delicate tree-ferns, and so\nrich the undergrowth of all manner of humbler forms. I saw some clusters\nof tree-ferns whose stems were nearly forty feet high, and matted with\nluxuriant creepers. These just touched by gleams of sunlight, stealing\nthrough the dark masses of foliage overhead; groups of the tall _matai_\nand _rimu_, the red or white pine, mingling with the various kinds of\nhardwood. You cannot conceive anything more lovely. Imagine my disgust\non hearing the practical comment of a settler on this dream of beauty:\n\u201cOh yes, that block has been reserved for firewood!\u201d implying that all\nthe now dull country round was equally beautiful till it was \u201cimproved\u201d\nby wholesome burning, to facilitate clearings. Such is the march of\ncivilisation in all lands!\n\nOn the hills just above us lay a magnificent forest of the giant _kauri_\npine, which is found only in this northern part of the north isle. It is\na noble tree, its tall upright stems standing ranged like the pillars\nof some grand cathedral. It is so highly prized for timber that it is\nlargely exported both to the southern isle and to Australia, consequently\nvast tracts which but a few years ago were primeval forest are now\nutterly denuded. It is from the scrub-land where these forests once stood\nthat the precious _kauri_ gum is dug up in large clear lumps like amber.\nThey are found within two feet of the surface, and are supposed to have\nbeen formed by the melting of the resin when the forests were burned.\n\nHigh up on the mountain-side lies the new gold-field, \u201cthe Ohinemuri,\u201d\nonly started two years ago. We could see the tiny tents and huts of the\ngold-miners, most of whom have their wives and families with them. It is\na most romantic site for a camp, and one which I would fain have visited.\nThe quartz is brought down thence by tramways to the batteries, which are\nplaced further down the hill; and hard labour it has been to drag all\nthat heavy machinery even so far, over hill and dale, through difficult\nbush, without even the semblance of a road. Such a gold-camp as this\nwould be far more in keeping with our ideal, derived from Bret Harte,\nthan the civilised city of Grahamstown, so I greatly regret that this was\nnot included in my line of march; nothing could have been simpler, as my\nfriends Captain Fraser and Mr Allom are in command of the whole.\n\nAs it was, I wistfully turned away from the exquisite fern paradise\nand the dark _kauri_ forests, and then commenced a long ride across\nuninteresting plains bounded by commonplace hills. Towards noon we\noverlooked the seaboard, and paused to learn our day\u2019s geography from the\nvast map outspread below us, the horses, meanwhile, feasting on a kind of\nveronica, a shrub with purple blossoms, evidently highly appreciated. We,\ntoo, were conscious of having breakfasted at an unwonted hour, but could\nfind no cool shady spot where we could halt for luncheon, till we reached\na Maori settlement on the sea-coast.\n\nThence our way for the last few miles lay along the beach, on broad\nbeautiful sand, with the wavelets rippling right under the horses\u2019 feet.\nIt would have been most enjoyable could we either have gone leisurely,\nor unburdened. But as it was, we had to hurry on, in order to cross a\nwide tidal creek at low tide, and already the tide was on the turn. So\nwe had to keep up a hard swinging gallop, and (being as yet a novice\nin the arts of bush-travelling, in a land where there are no patient\ncoolies ever ready to run miles and miles with luggage) I was encumbered\nwith a heavy travelling-bag insecurely strapped to the pommel\u2014sketching\nmaterials ditto\u2014opera-glasses keeping time against my side, and a large\numbrella, which I dared not open, though the sun was burning. Having\nto hold on to all these, and keep up our unflagging pace, was to me\ndesperately fatiguing, and after all, we reached the creek too late,\nand there was nothing for it but to wait patiently at the little lonely\ntelegraph-station for a couple of hours, when Mr Field, the civil young\nclerk, offered to row us to our destination (four miles).\n\nThis proved fortunate, for the hard gallop in the sun had exhausted me,\nand all in a minute I turned giddy and unconscious, which would have\nbeen awkward had we been half-way across the wide, and at all times\nunpleasant, ford; as it was, I was all right in a few minutes, and Mr\nField made me lie down in his wee room till it was time to start, when we\nhad a lovely moonlight row, and landed here\u2014all three, total strangers\u2014to\nfind that Arthur Fisher and our host and hostess were all alike absent.\nBut we were most hospitably received by two sweet lady-like girls under\nthirteen, and five sons, the youngest a dear little fellow of four,\nwith a kind good nurse. It had been intended that we should continue\nthe ride to Tauranga to-day, but when I found it was forty miles, and\nno resting-place by the way, I cried off, and am going down the lake\n(twenty-five miles) by boat. Mr Allom and his daughter will return home\nfrom here.\n\n * * * * *\n\n OHINEMUTU, _Easter Day 1877_.\n\nTwo years, this morning, since we sailed from Marseilles! This is not\nvery like Easter Day, but is certainly novel. I might say, not suggestive\nof heaven so much as of the Inferno, for the land on every side of us\nis but a thin crust, through which boiling springs burst up in every\ndirection, and clouds of hot steam rise from every tuft of ferns or\ntempting bit of foliage. Each spring seems to differ from all the others\nin the character of the water\u2014the mineral qualities I mean; so when they\nhave been duly analysed, there will be some to suit every complaint under\nheaven. Even now many people have been cured by them of long-standing\nrheumatism\u2014but it is not safe to be the first to experimentalise. Not\nlong ago two gentlemen determined to try all the springs in succession,\nand at last one of them became paralysed. However, it is safe enough to\nindulge in the usual regulated baths, in which you can remain as long as\never you please; and very delightful they are\u2014no matter how tired you may\nbe, you seem to come out all right. The regular thing, however, is for\nthe whole population, of both sexes, to bathe together in the warm mud,\nand then swim about in the cool lake: and white gentlemen are apt to be\nrather startled when a dusky damsel swims up to them and offers a whiff\nof her pipe!\n\nBut I must take up the thread of my story where I left off\u2014namely, the\nvoyage down the lake from the Irish settlement at Kati Kati to Tauranga.\nIt was in a small boat, rowed by one old man. He accepted me as a \u201cpal,\u201d\nand told me off to steer, and didn\u2019t he just keep me in order! But owing\nto the tides and the mangrove-swamps, which had to be avoided, it was\n4 P.M. before we were able to start, and it was 12 P.M. ere we reached\nTauranga, and my poor old boy was so exhausted that he could not row\nround to the pier, so landed me on a mud-swamp half a mile off. Luckily\nit was a bright moonlight night, and so bitterly cold that a walk was\nquite a pleasure, though a good deal of it was ankle-deep in mud; so we\nleft my saddle in the boat till morning, not without some qualms on my\npart, and started to find the house of Mrs Edgecumbe, to whom I had been\nconsigned by Captain Fraser. Of course, the house was shut up, and I felt\nrather shy of walking up and knocking at such an hour. Happily my host\nwas a light sleeper, and answered instantly; and in a second a cheery\nEnglish maid welcomed me, took me to the kitchen and warmed me, by which\ntime my host was dressed, and fed me with all good things. His wife had\ngone to Auckland with a sick child. They had arranged that Arthur Fisher\nwas to be on the watch for me\u2014on the pier\u2014till all reasonable hours had\npassed. And there he actually did wait till 2 A.M., which, however, I\ndid not know till next morning, when he came to escort me over the town\nof Tauranga, which has a deep interest, as the scene of one of the most\ndreadful fights with the Maoris\u2014that of the Gate Pah, where so many\nEnglish officers were killed. I found in the very picturesque cemetery\nthe names of various men I knew. It is a lovely spot by the sea, and\nlovingly cared for\u2014a green headland, where bright blossoms bloom beneath\nthe shelter of English willows, and scented geraniums grow in wild\nprofusion among the rocks.\n\nThis was on Good Friday, and Arthur and I had naturally intended going\nto church; but we found closed doors, the parson and his people being\nin a curious state of antagonism. In Auckland all church services are\nelaborate, and the two bishops were holding mission services, but I\ncannot say the country districts seem very well cared for. As concerns\nthe Maoris (who began by being as warm Christians as our Fijians now\nare), a vast multitude who, previous to the war, were apparently most\nreverent and devout, have now a profound contempt for the white man\u2019s\nreligion: and so, having either banished or murdered their teachers,\nthey have invented new religions for themselves\u2014strange compounds of many\ncreeds, mingled with most utter absurdities. But even such as continue to\nbe Christians now seem to be deserted by their teachers, and the churches\nstand empty. Even to-day\u2014Easter\u2014there has been no service in this large\nsettlement.\n\nAt Tauranga I was able to hire a good bush-carriage and strong four horse\nteam, with relay, for the forty miles\u2019 drive. Most of it lay through\nthe bush, but its beauty has been destroyed by the wholesale felling of\nthe tree-ferns, whose black stems are closely laid as sleepers across\nthe worst parts of the very worst bush-road I ever saw. It seemed a\nmore cruel misuse of these lovely plants than even the Fijian custom of\nemploying them largely in house-building. Here, from their low estate,\nmany of the forgiving plants put forth fresh fronds, and the muddy road\nwas fringed with a border of tender green.\n\nOn arriving here I found two tidy little hotels, and decided to stay at\nMrs Wilson\u2019s, where I have received the utmost hearty kindness, and am\nvery well cared for. There are three ladies and some gentlemen staying in\nthe house, for the sake of the healing waters.\n\nOhinemutu is a native settlement on the shores of Lake Rotorua, situated\nin the very midst of boiling springs of every variety. As you look down\non the village you catch glimpses of the little brown huts appearing\nand disappearing through veils of white vapour. The whole country round\nseems to be steaming, and every step requires caution lest you should\ncarelessly plunge through the thin and treacherous crust of crisp baked\nsoil, into unknown horrors that lie below. If you thrust a walking-stick\ninto the ground, the steam immediately rises from the opening thus made.\nAt every few steps you came to a boiling pool, often wellnigh concealed\nby a fringe of rare and delicate ferns of the most exquisitely vivid\ngreen\u2014a peculiarity shared by all the plants which flourish in this\nperpetual vapour-bath. In some places a greenish gelatinous or slimy\nvegetable substance grows in the crevices of the rock where the boiling\nspray constantly falls. It belongs to the family of alg\u00e6, and ranks\nlow in the scale of organisation. The marvel is, how any form of life\ncan exist in such a temperature. It is the salamander of the vegetable\nkingdom.\n\nHere, as in every other volcanic region I have visited, I am struck by\nthe exceeding coldness of springs and streams lying close to boiling\nfountains,\u2014a system of hot and cold water baths which the Maoris\nreadily adapt to use, by leading a small conduit from each to a rudely\nconstructed tank, in which they can regulate the temperature by turning\non the hot or cold stream. Some of the ordinary bathing pools, which\nare not thus artificially cooled, are so responsive to the influence of\nthe north and east winds, that while these blow the temperature rises\nfrom 100\u00b0 to 190\u00b0, and bathing becomes impossible till the wind changes.\nVery often the wind blows from the north-east every morning for weeks\ntogether, and dies away at sunset, when the water (which at noon had\nreached boiling-point) gradually becomes comparatively cool.\n\nThe natives consider these luxurious baths to be a certain cure for all\nmanner of ills. And so they doubtless are; but, as each pool differs\nfrom all its neighbours in its chemical combinations, it follows that\nbathing here at random must be about as unsafe, though decidedly not so\nunpleasant, as tasting all the contents of a chemist\u2019s shop by turns. But\na certain number of the pools have been so long tried by the Maoris that\ntheir beneficial results are well proven; and many sufferers, chiefly\nthose afflicted with rheumatism, are carried up here totally helpless,\nand in most instances derive immense benefit from drinking and bathing in\nthese mineral waters.\n\nOf the many thousand hot and cold springs which bubble around us in every\ndirection, a limited number only have as yet been analysed, but these\nprove that the various chemical combinations are practically without\nnumber, no two pools being alike. All the mineral waters of Europe\nseem to be here represented\u2014Harrogate and Leamington, Kreutznach and\nWiesbaden, and many another\u2014so that doubtless ere long this district\nwill become a vast sanatorium, to which sufferers from all manner of\ndiseases will be sent to nature\u2019s own dispensary to find the healing\nwaters suited to their need. There are mud-baths, containing sulphate\nof potash, soda, lime, alumina, iron, magnesia, hydrochloric acid,\nsulphuric acid, sulphuretted hydrogen, silica, and iodine. Other springs\ncontain monosilicate of lime, of iron, manganese, chloride of potassium,\nof sodium, sulphate of soda and of lime, silica, phosphate of alumina,\nmagnesia, chloride of potassium, oxide of iron, and various other\nchemical substances. I believe that carbonic acid has not been found; but\nsmall quantities of lithium, iodine, and bromine are present in almost\nevery instance. In some cases iodine is found in considerable quantities,\nnotably in those springs to which the Maoris chiefly resort for the cure\nof skin diseases.[53]\n\nAll the ordinary cares of housekeeping are here greatly facilitated by\nnature. She provides so many cooking-pots that fires are needless\u2014all\nstewing and boiling does itself to perfection. The food is either placed\nin a flax basket, and hung in the nearest pool, or else it is laid in a\nshallow hole and covered with layers of fern and earth to keep in the\nsteam. In either case the result is excellent, and the cookery clean and\nsimple. Laundry-work is made equally easy. Certain pools are set aside in\nwhich to boil clothes; and one of these, which is called Kairua, is the\nvillage laundry _par excellence_. Its waters are alkaline, and produce a\ncleansing lather; and they are so soft and warm that washing is merely a\npleasant pastime to the laughing Maori girls. No soap is required. Mother\nNature has provided all that is needful: sulphate of soda, chloride\nof potassium and of sodium, enter largely into her preparations for\nwashing-day.\n\nMy good landlady has had a bitter grief connected with her laundry-pool.\nAbout two months ago her youngest child toddled down the garden and fell\nin, and was so terribly scalded that it died immediately. I have heard\nseveral other cases of grown-up people and horses falling into boiling\ncaldrons, but it seems to me marvellous that such accidents do not happen\ndaily, so vague are the little paths, and so numerous the dangers.\n\nEven the narrow neck of greensward where the dead are laid in their last\nsleep is all steaming, and boiling springs bubble round the graves. We\npaused beside the grassy mound which marks where the little child was\nlaid. There are no headstones to tell who lie there, but the place is\nmarked by great wooden posts, with rudely carved heads, which at one\ntime formed part of a noted _pah_, the greater part of which, however,\nhas subsided beneath the lake. Only a few very fine pieces of quaint,\ngrotesque, old Maori carving lie about the place, rotting on the ground;\nand none dare carry them away, for their ownership is disputed, and the\nplace is _tapu_.\n\nThe walls of the native council-house are entirely covered with this\ngrotesque carving\u2014hideous figures, with faces much tattooed, and oblique\neyes of the Mongol type, formed of iridescent pearl-shell, but this is\nall modern work, and less elaborate than that of olden days, when time\nwas not so marketable, and skilled labour more abundant.\n\nBut I think the true village councils are held in the open air, where\nthe favourite lounge is an open space rudely paved with large stones,\nwhich, by imprisoning the steam from some of the boiling springs, become\npleasantly heated; and here the grave fathers of the hamlet love to\nrecline, wrapped in their blankets or flax cloaks. Of course it is still\nmore luxurious to sit up to your neck in a hot mud-bath, but it would\nnot do to stay there all day. Some people prefer sulphur-baths, and\nthese they can have to their hearts\u2019 content within a short distance, as\nthere are real sulphur-pools giving forth the most horrible fumes: and\nthe ground all round is primrose-hued, being thickly incrusted with pure\nsulphur.\n\nBut I believe that sulphur is found more abundantly at Tiritere, on the\nshores of Rotoiti, a beautiful lake, only separated from Rotorua by an\nisthmus half a mile in breadth, and likewise surrounded by chemical\nsprings and bubbling mud-pools.\n\nEach of the little hotels has its own natural hot baths, in which it is\nthe height of luxury and repose to lie for an hour or so at night after\na hard day\u2019s scramble. But, as I before said, the Maoris have no idea\nof such solitary enjoyment. To them bathing is a social delight, to be\nindulged in at all times and seasons, especially in the evenings, when\nyoung men and maidens, old men and children, assemble in the lake, which\nis pleasantly warmed by many hot springs. Certain pools are the special\nplaygrounds of the children, and it is a most amusing sight to see these\nbrown water-babies disporting themselves by the hour. They swim like\nfishes, as do also their elders, an accomplishment inherited from their\nbeautiful ancestress, the lovely Hinemoa. She was the daughter of a grand\nold chief, whose tribe lived near the shores of this lake, and who would\nnot suffer her to marry her heart\u2019s choice, whose name was Tutenekai,\nand who lived on the island of Mokoia, in the middle of Lake Rotorua.\nThey drew up all the canoes lest she should be tempted to go to him; and\nas the island is nearly four miles distant, they never dreamt that she\nwould attempt to swim. But love triumphed. One night the sound of his\nlute came floating over the lake, and, determined not to be baffled, she\ntook six hollow gourds and fastened them to her shoulders, three on each\nside. Then she fearlessly plunged into the dark waters, and swam till\nshe was exhausted. Buoyed up by the gourds, she lay still and rested a\nwhile, then with renewed strength she swam onward, guided by the sound of\nthe lute, and at last landed in safety. But having left her robe on the\nmainland, she shrank from appearing before her lover in the garb of Eve,\nso she hid herself in a warm spring, and there after a while he found\nher, and wrapped his cloak around her, and took her to his home, where\nshe became his wife, and the mother of children beautiful as herself. And\nto this day her descendants are noted for their comeliness and for their\nclear olive complexion; and they love to tell the tale of how Hinemoa\nswam across the lake in the dark moonless night. On the Horo Horo ranges,\non the road to Taupo, they point out a tall rock which bears her name.\n\nThis island of Mokoia was formerly strongly fortified, and was the scene\nof bloody fights between the Arawa and Ngapuhi tribes. Here, for greater\nsecurity, the Arawas kept the symbol of their worship, which was merely\na lock of human hair, twined round a rope of paper mulberry bark. It\nwas treated with deepest reverence, and kept in a house of most sacred\nwood, thatched with _Manga Manga_, a lovely climbing fern, similar to\nthe _Wa kolou_, or god fern, with which the Fijians used to adorn the\nridge-pole of their temples. Both Maoris and Fijians are remarkable for\nan almost total absence of any outward and visible representation of the\ngods whom they worshipped, so this curious symbol possessed especial\ninterest. The sacred lock of hair came to grief in A.D. 1818, when the\n_pah_ was captured by the Ngapuhi tribe, and the god of the conquered was\nignominiously tomahawked.\n\nI am now in the heart of a tract of marvellous volcanic country which\nextends from the great Lake Taupo to the sea-coast, and reappears at\nWhakari or White Island, about twenty-eight miles from the land, thus\nforming a volcanic chain extending over 150 miles. White Island, which is\nonly about three miles in circumference, is itself an active volcano, and\nthough the crater is not more than 860 feet above the sea-level, it sends\nforth volumes of steam which in calm weather are estimated to rise to a\nheight of 2000 feet. Smaller geysers and hot sulphureous lakes cluster\nround this centre; and although some scrubby vegetation has sprung up, no\nliving creature is here found.\n\nAs seen from the sea, the shores of the island are apparently rich green\nmeadows, but on nearer inspection these prove to be composed of pure\ncrystallised sulphur: and the whole land is so heated that it is scarcely\npossible to walk over it. I have seen some beautiful specimens of sulphur\nwhich had been brought from there, resembling lumps of primrose-coloured\nrock.\n\nAt the farther end of the volcanic chain lies the great Lake Taupo,\nwhich is about twenty by thirty miles in extent, and beyond which rises\nthe sacred mountain Tongariro, an active volcano, vomiting fire and\nsmoke from the cinder-cone, which rises dark and bare from a base of\nperpetual snow. Its height is 6500 feet, but it is overtopped by Ruapehu,\nthe highest point in the island, one of its three snowy peaks rising to\nupwards of 9000 feet.\n\nGeologists suppose the bed of Lake Taupo to have been one vast crater;\nand it seems probable that it has some subterranean outlet, from the fact\nthat the lake receives a much larger supply of water than that which\nit discharges by the Waikato river, which flows through it. The Maoris\ndare not approach the sacred isle in the centre of the lake for fear of\nan evil dragon which dwells there, and swallows every rash canoe that\npresumes to draw near,\u2014a legend from which some infer that there really\nis a whirlpool there, caused by the rush of water down the old chimney\nof the crater. A great part of the lake is hemmed in by basaltic cliffs,\nrising sheer from the water about 700 feet, and quite inaccessible. Over\nthese dash mountain torrents, which fall in silvery spray. The lake is\nofttimes swept by sudden storms, and its angry waters make a gloomy\nforeground to the grand mountains beyond.\n\nThe country between Mount Tongariro and Lake Taupo is all intensely\nvolcanic; and the dark-green scrub which clothes the hills is dotted\nby columns and wreaths of steam, rising from thousands of boiling\nsprings\u2014those in the neighbourhood of the Waikato river falling over\nits rocky banks in seething cataracts, and depositing in their course a\nbed of white stalagmite, which adds greatly to their apparent size. At\ncertain seasons these geysers are more active than at others. There is\none which has been said to eject water with such violence as to swamp\ncanoes at a distance of 100 yards; and another, the steam of which is\nvisible at a distance of fifteen miles.\n\nBelow the lake, on the Waikato river, is the Tewakaturou geyser, which\nused to throw water right across the river\u2014130 yards\u2014but is now nearly\nquiescent, and only gives a sobbing gasp and spout every few minutes,\nthrowing up a splash of scalding water, as if it would drive away the\nruthless thief who tries to steal \u201cspecimens\u201d of its work. The geysers\nthereabouts are so numerous that from some points you can count from\nsixty to eighty columns of steam in sight at one moment; and at the\npoint where the Waikato enters the lake there are upwards of 500 pools,\neither of boiling mud or boiling water; while the neighbouring mountain\nof Kakaramea seems to have been so thoroughly steamed as to be little\nmore than a soft mass of half-boiled mud, with scalding water and steam\nissuing from every crevice. A tribe of Maoris were once rash enough to\nbuild a village near here, but it was overwhelmed by an avalanche of mud,\nand all the inhabitants perished.\n\nThere is a Maori settlement in the midst of a very wonderful group of\nsprings and terraces at Orakei-Korako, on the Waikato river, and the\nlittle brown huts are actually built on the mounds of white silica, with\napparently no thought of danger. Chemical deposits of all sorts have\nstained the earth and rocks with every conceivable hue\u2014copperas-green,\nferruginous orange, the delicate primrose of sulphur, and every shade\nof salmon and pale rose colour, deepening to dark red, appear in marked\ncontrast with the dazzling white silica and the dark-green scrub. Both\nthe river-bank and the terraces are fringed with deep stalactites,\nstreaked with these varied hues.\n\nNear this point there is a fairy-like alum-cave. The entrance is veiled\nby tall silver tree-ferns, growing in rank profusion; and the red walls\nof the cave are incrusted with pure white alum, deposited from a pool of\nthe loveliest light-blue warm water. This place is about forty miles from\nOhinemutu and thirty from the village of Taupo, which stands on the shore\nof the lake.\n\nTaupo is quite a large settlement, and possesses two hotels, a\npost-office, and even a telegraph. About two miles off lie a group\nof springs, which it is intended to treat as a sanatorium. They are\nGovernment property, and the land around them is fertile, and is laid\nout in gardens and grass fields. A picturesque blue river flows near,\nbetween steep crags, finely wooded: the descriptions of the spot are\nmost attractive. One very singular boiling pool is known as the Witches\u2019\nCaldron. It lies in a circular hollow in the river-bank, about thirty\nfeet above the stream. The water is pure blue, but every shade of orange,\nbrown, green, and red appear on the rocks around it. Heavy clouds of\nsteam are constantly thrown up with a roaring noise.\n\nIt matters little in what direction you travel in this weird region,\nfresh wonders reveal themselves on every hand. If, instead of taking\nthe coach-road to Lake Taupo, you prefer riding there, you may follow a\nbridle-path along the Paeroa valley at the foot of a range of boiling\nmountains. Literally the whole Paeroa range is a boiling mass of\nchemicals, so thinly crusted over, that the most foolhardy adventurer\ndare not attempt to climb it, for even what to the eye appears solid\nground, is all crumbling and brittle as pie-crust, from the constant\naction of internal steam, and all manner of gases. Sulphuric acid,\nsulphur and sulphuretted hydrogen, rise in intermittent clouds from the\nwhole surface of the range, which, from base to summit, is covered with\npatches of yellow, grey, white, and red, which tell of solfataras and\nfumaroles, mud-pools and sulphur-banks. Some of the boiling springs take\nthese colours, and the water of one is bright yellow, while the next\nis clear green. Many are fringed with purely tropical ferns, but the\nordinary vegetation of a New Zealand bush contrives to flourish on the\nlower slopes of the range, and even fringes the Waikato river, which is\nquite hot.\n\nThere is a road all the way from Tauranga to Lake Taupo, and thence\nto Napier, with coaches running weekly; and I regret more than I can\nexpress, not having allowed myself time to make this expedition, and\nto see all this marvellous region thoroughly. I could easily have left\nKawau a little sooner had I realised the amazing interest that awaited\nme here\u2014as it is, I dare not linger, for those aggravating Pacific\nmail-steamers vow that they will call at Fiji next month, positively for\nthe last time. They have kept us thus on tenter-hooks for a year\u2014never\nknowing from one mail to the next whether our letters would be dropped\nor not. About five months ago, when Mr Gordon had been sent here on\nsick-leave he hurried back much too soon, in order to catch the very last\nchance. You know how, three months ago, we came to Khandavu, scarcely\nventuring to hope the big steamer would call, and now we are told that\nif we choose to be ready to return by next mail we shall be dropped\nat Khandavu. How we are to get from there to Levuka will be the next\nquestion, as it is a long day\u2019s steam, and now poor little Fiji possesses\nno steamer of any sort or kind! She cannot afford even to hire the little\nsteamer which she had when we came away.\n\nSo, much as we shall regret leaving New Zealand so hurriedly, we dare not\nlose this opportunity, as the option of going all the way to Sydney, on\nthe chance of a steamer from there to Levuka, is not tempting. Therefore\nI must be satisfied with seeing the chief objects of interest in the\nneighbourhood of Rotomahana, \u201cthe hot lake,\u201d round which are concentrated\nwonders of every description.\n\nI do not know what link exists between the Maoris and the Fijians, but\nsome of the words in common use sound to me strongly akin. For instance,\nthe name of the river which receives the hot springs is Waikato. In Fiji,\nboiling water is _kata kata na wai_\u2014surely the two are identical? The\novens in which food is cooked are just the same as Fijian ovens, except\nthat when the fire has been kindled, and the stones heated, a wet mat\nis laid over the red-hot stones, and over that a layer of green fern;\nthen comes the food, and next another layer of fern, over which water\nis thrown, and the whole is quickly covered up with earth to prevent the\nsteam from escaping. I must say our Fijians are immensely superior to\nthese people in the matter of house-building. The Maori _wharries_ are\nwretched dirty little hovels, from which every breath of air is carefully\nexcluded: being built actually on the ground, they are necessarily damp,\nand, in a rainy season, must be swamped, as there seems no attempt at\ndrainage. They contrast very unfavourably with the clean comfortable\nFijian houses, built on well-raised foundations, in which we have lived\nso happily. I think that to have to claim a night\u2019s shelter in a Maori\n_wharry_ would be quite as uninviting as to be driven to accept the\nhospitality of a very poor Highland bothy.\n\nThe people are alike in their love of smoking. Here men, women, and\nchildren smoke incessantly. They grow their own tobacco, and carve their\nown pipes from a sort of white stone found in this neighbourhood. I am\nglad the Fijians are content with the little cigarettes, which the girls\ntwist up in bits of banana-leaf.\n\nI am to start for Rotomahana to-morrow morning, and return here just\nin time to catch the steamer at Tauranga. I hear there are some very\ncurious sulphur-springs, white cones, and mud-baths at a place called\nWhaka-rewa-rewa, about three miles from here, so I am just going off to\nsee them. I have borrowed an execrable side-saddle from a Maori girl,\nhaving left my own at Tauranga, and have hired a horse for the afternoon.\nSissie Wilson, daughter of my landlady, is going with me\u2014she rides a\nman\u2019s saddle. I am told that in January and February the principal\ngeyser at this place throws up a column of water from forty to fifty\nfeet high at intervals of eight minutes, but I fear it will probably\nbe as sleepy as the great geyser here, which is sometimes very active,\nbut is now at rest. Many of these fountains are intermittent. Sometimes\ngroups play alternately, at other times periodically, at intervals\nof so many minutes. These geysers seem to be strangely influenced by\natmospheric changes. Captain Mair, whose headquarters are at Ohinemutu,\nhas made careful observations of these phenomena. He says the geysers\nat Whaka-rewa-rewa are most active when the wind blows from the west or\nsouth-west, when they frequently throw up a fountain fifty or sixty feet\nhigh. From 7 to 9 A.M. and from 3 to 4 P.M. are their working hours,\nwhile the noontide is almost invariably a time of rest. There is one\ngeyser known as the Bashful Geyser (Whakaha-rua) because it only begins\nto play after dark.\n\n10 P.M.\u2014It is something to be able to say that I have returned here\nsafely, for, indeed, exploring such a country as this is \u201cno canny.\u201d\nCertainly, I thought to-day that we were nearing the infernal regions.\nThis morning I thought the springs here were fearful and wonderful,\nbut they are nothing compared with those we have seen this afternoon.\nThe great fountain refused to play, but I was fascinated by the white\nmarble-like cones from which it and its smaller neighbours spout. They\nare like frozen snowdrifts, or heaps of gigantic wedding-cakes, from\nten to twenty feet in height, with a thick coating of iced sugar. This\nis caused by the white silica, which is constantly deposited by the\nfalling waters, rising from a funnel in the centre. To-day the geyser\nwas so quiet that we were able to peer down into its depths, and could\nhear the water bubbling and boiling far below; but such prying is at all\ntimes rash, for at any moment a column of scalding water may shoot far\noverhead, and give one a shower-bath not to be quickly forgotten.\n\nThese silvery cones seemed to be veined with gold, for each tiny\nair-tube and fissure is incrusted with sparkling crystals of sulphur,\nvery tempting to touch, but hazardous\u2014as the invisible steam rushing\nthrough them is more scalding than that from any larger surface. In the\nmidst of the gleaming white cones there is one which is pure yellow,\nbeing altogether composed of sulphur, though a thin treacherous crust\nof black mud has partly overspread it, luring the unwary to step on to\nvery dangerous ground, which is apt at any moment to give way. The most\nremarkable of these cones and basins are clustered round, and on, a\nlittle hill, and I soon scrambled to a higher level, to sketch the whole\ngroup, in spite of the remonstrance of a picturesque Maori, who seemed\nto have some dim idea that he could exact payment for allowing me this\nprivilege. He was accompanied by a little girl, with a tiny toddling\nbrother, the latter hugging a kitten in his small arms. It is a strange\nhome in which to rear a family, but all seem strong and healthy. They\nlive in a little _wharry_ close by, where they offer mineral specimens\nand petrifactions for sale.\n\nAll along the Puaranga creek there are literally hundreds of geysers,\nsolfataras, and boiling mud-pools, varying as much in temperature as in\nchemical properties. In two basins lying close together the thermometer\nregisters respectively 185\u00b0 and 55\u00b0 Fahr.; and the colour of the water\nis equally diversified, varying from emerald-green or the clearest\nturquoise blue, to delicate rose or bright yellow, according to the\ncharacter of the decomposed rock which chances to find itself in the\ngreat subterranean boiler. Some of the jets hiss and roar with deafening,\nbewildering noise; and, as the pools of black boiling mud gurgle and\nbubble, a feeling of creeping dread comes over one lest the ground should\ngive way, or one\u2019s foot slip, and so one should be engulfed in a grave of\nsuch unspeakable horror.\n\nI passed on from one new marvel to another, grieving to leave any corner\nunexplored, not knowing what strange beauties might lie hidden by each\ndark clump of bush; and yet fully warned that every step off the beaten\ntrack was fraught with real danger. But not till sunset could I turn\naway from scenes so fascinating\u2014and then, oh dear! how hateful was the\nride home on the Maori child\u2019s saddle! I wished I had had courage to try\nriding like my companion. However, once here, a blessed remedy awaited\nme in the delicious natural hot bath, in which I have lain for the last\nhour, and forgotten all my aches and bruises, and now need only a good\nnight\u2019s rest to be quite ready for to-morrow\u2019s journey in search of\nscenes still more wonderful.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV.\n\n BEWILDERING NEW SURROUNDINGS\u2014THE MAORI DRAGON\u2014BREAKFAST AT\n WAIROA\u2014THE MISSION-HOUSE\u2014THE HOT LAKE\u2014WHITE TERRACES\u2014SULPHUR\n AND MUD VOLCANOES\u2014AN UNJUST CLAIM RESISTED\u2014CHAMPIONS FROM THE\n ANTIPODES.\n\n\n IN A TINY TENT NEAR THE WHITE TERRACES, ROTOMAHANA,\n _Tuesday Night, April 3, 1877_.\n\nNow indeed I have found a land of wonders, such as, I fancy, has no\nequal, unless perhaps in the volcanic region of Hawaii, which, from all\ndescriptions, must stand pre-eminent.[54] But all that I have seen\nhere is truly amazing, and much as I had heard of it, the reality far\nsurpasses my expectations. It is heaven and hell in alternate glimpses,\nso marvellous are some beauties, so dread the horrors.\n\nI can hardly persuade myself that it is only four days since I left\nTauranga, so infinitely varied are all the new impressions which hour by\nhour have crowded upon me. I seem to have lived in a bewildering maze of\nsteam and steam-power gone mad\u2014columns of steam puffing up from every\nbush, steam roaring as though all the engines in Europe were bellowing\nand snorting simultaneously, or steam rising in quiet mists and wreaths\nas it is now doing even in this tiny tent which the Maoris pitched for us\non what they knew to be one of the very few safe spots. Yet even here the\nsteam is rising through the ground; the sheet of American cloth, which I\nlaid beneath my blanket, is wrinkled like the hands of a washer-woman,\nthough our tent is floored with thick layers of fern and _manukau_, and\nthe paper on which I am writing is quite damp, as is all my drawing-paper.\n\nWe have stood by to watch volcanoes being created, and then as quickly\ndestroyed\u2014volcanoes of mud and volcanoes of sulphur; we have watched\ngeysers of every sort, active and quiescent, playing in green pools and\nin blue pools; and, above all, we have walked up and down, all over the\nwondrous marble stairways, till their loveliness has become a familiar\nthing; and oh, wonderful new sensation! new possibility in luxury!\nwe have bathed in those perfect marble baths, selecting from among a\nthousand, the very pool of the exact temperature and depth that seemed\nmost pleasant, and therein have lain rejoicing like true Maoris, till we\nourselves were coated with a thin film of silica from the flinty water,\nso that we feel like satin, a delight to ourselves.\n\nIt is so strange to look out from this little tent and see clouds of\nwhite steam continually curling up from the thicket of dark _manukau_\nscrub which lies between us and the blue lake, on the other side of\nwhich rise more dark hills, and another flight of terraces, not quite so\nlarge as these white ones, near which our tent is pitched, but in some\nrespects even more beautiful. They are called the pink terraces, but\nare really of a pale salmon colour. You cannot think how lovely they\nare by moonlight! At the base of these pink terraces there is a great\nsulphur-volcano, which tinges all the land and water near it of a clear\nlemon colour. And from all the dark hills on every side rise columns of\nwhite steam, telling us how thin is the crust which divides us from the\nwonderful laboratory down below. Everything is so new and strange that I\nhardly know what to tell you first. Perhaps I had better begin in detail\nfrom the beginning.\n\nI left Ohinemutu at 6 A.M. on Monday morning, and a coach-and-four\nbrought me fourteen miles over a road (if I may so call it) like the bed\nof the wildest mountain torrent. How any springs in the world can stand\nit I cannot imagine. We passed Lakes Tikitapa, Roto Rua, and Roto Kahahi\n(the blue lake and the lake of shells).\n\nLake Tikitapa, which is overshadowed by steep wooded hills, is the scene\nof an old Maori legend, which tells how Tu-whare-toa, the St George of\nNew Zealand, here did battle with Taniwha, the great dragon, which he\nconquered, but did not slay, only stipulating that it should thenceforth\nlive quietly at the bottom of the lake. So now the only sign of life it\ngives is occasionally to trouble the dead calm of the deep blue waters,\nwhich rise in crested waves; and strangers think that this is the work\nof the mountain breeze, but the Maoris know that Taniwha is turning over\nrestlessly, weary of his long captivity.\n\nWe reached Wairoa in time to breakfast at a comfortable well-kept little\nhotel, the present landlord of which is an Irish gentleman of good\nfamily\u2014son of a general in her Majesty\u2019s army. I sat at breakfast beside\na private of the armed constabulary, in whom I recognised a member of one\nof the best old families in Suffolk. But having already found my coachman\nof the morning to be an agreeable and well-informed Oxford man, the son\nof an English vicar, who, like many another gentleman out here, has had\nhis share of life\u2019s ups and downs, I began to realise that I have reached\na new world, in which every man must sink or swim on his own merits, or\nhis own luck, as the case may be, but wholly irrespective of that of his\nforefathers.\n\nIn the village of Wairoa a deserted church and school still stand to\ntell of the zeal of the early converts, whose Christianity proved as\nevanescent as the morning dew. At the outbreak of the war, they hanged\none of their pastors, Mr Volkner; and the resident clergyman had to fly\nfor his life.\n\nOnce more I have had the good fortune to find myself in the position of\nfriend\u2019s friend, for I had scarcely finished breakfast when Mr Way (to\nwhom Mr Edgecumbe had written about me) came to escort me to his pretty\nhome, the pleasant old mission station, now, alas! no longer used in its\nformer capacity, but still held by a member of the family. For Mrs Way\nwas a daughter of the house, born and bred here, loving both place and\npeople, and marking with bitter pain the change that has crept over them\nsince evil white influence has worked as a poisonous leaven to overthrow\nall the good that Christian teachers had so patiently striven to instil,\nwith apparently such good result.\n\nGreatly to my delight, Mrs Way volunteered to accompany me to the lakes,\nand to take with her a small tent, in which we might sleep for two\nor three nights. She herself speaks Maori like a native; and she has\nbrought with her a dear old Maori nurse, who has been with her from her\nchildhood, and who does our cooking. She also took a share in paddling\nour canoe.\n\nGreat was the noise and hubbub which arose when the Maoris learned that\nwe purposed going in a different canoe to that which they had already\ndetermined on sending. No other travellers had arrived that morning, and\nso the whole village was contending for the fleecing of this one lamb.\nHorrible was the din which ensued. A happy thought at length struck Mrs\nWay. She determined to draw lots who should accompany us, and the novelty\nof the proceeding at once restored amity, and a pleasant set of cheery\ngood-natured lads fell to our lot. They were all delighted with fate\u2019s\ndecision, though well aware that my companion would allow no rum in her\ncanoe. The rum is an objectionable feature, which is insisted on as an\nextra in all canoes engaged at the hotel, and which does not tend to\nimprove the efficiency of the crew. The Maoris of the district have been\nso thoroughly spoilt by the English, that they are now rapacious to a\ndegree, and well it is for me that I have Mrs Way to protect me. I was\nmuch amused to hear the Maoris all address her by her Christian name\u2014the\nnatural result of having all grown up together since childhood.\n\nThe canoes are of the rudest description\u2014merely a tree hollowed out\u2014and,\nnot being balanced by any outrigger, they are peculiarly liable to\noverturn on the shortest notice. The large canoes carry fourteen or\nfifteen persons sitting single file\u2014two paddles for each passenger. We\nhad a row of about eight miles across Lake Tarawara, a very beautiful\nlake at the foot of a mountain of the same name\u2014a truncated cone of\nbare rock 2000 feet high, and so singularly symmetrical that it needs\nsmall imagination to behold in it the form of a vast tumulus; for it is\nthe place of burial of the Arawa tribe, and is held so sacred that no\ntraveller is allowed to set foot on it: the Maoris themselves consider it\nstrictly _tapu_.\n\nThe lake is about five miles wide by seven in length. Its rocky shores\nare fringed with fine old trees, and the whole scenery is delightful.\nWe passed close by a rock where custom demands that tribute be paid to\nthe Atua or guardian spirit of the lake, to insure fair weather. It is\nan easily pleased spirit, for our offerings were only scraps of our\nluncheon; nevertheless, the weather has continued perfect\u2014no trifling\nmatter on such an expedition as this.\n\nAt the further side we ascended a creek with rapids, where we found the\nwater quite warm; and in a few minutes we reached the hot lake, which\nlies about 900 feet above the level of the sea. I am told that many\npeople say that their first feeling on arriving here is one of grievous\ndisappointment. This, I confess, is to me incomprehensible, for though\nthe general scenery round Rotomahana is not specially striking, it is\ncertainly not ugly; and though the surrounding hills are only clothed\nwith dark scrubby vegetation, they are relieved by countless wreaths\nof white vapour, marking the site of innumerable boiling springs and\nterraces, and suggesting the points of infinite interest, which lie\nhidden on every side.\n\nThe lake itself is very small\u2014not a mile long, and less than half that\nwidth; and though it appears blue enough when seen from the land, its\nwaters are turbid and greenish, and no fish or other creatures live in\nit, as you can well imagine, the boiling springs being as active below\nits surface as on its shores. But an immense number of wild-fowl of many\nsorts breed here, and are jealously preserved by the Maoris, who during\nthe breeding season will not allow a canoe to pass up the creek, and\nunder no circumstances will suffer a gun to be fired here. They do not,\nhowever, object to snaring, and the wild duck are so numerous that they\nare easily captured. Oyster-catchers also abound, as do also the Pukeho,\na large and very handsome blue bird with scarlet head and feet.\n\nOn entering the lake, we found ourselves at the foot of the white\nmarble terraces, which the Maoris call Te Tarata. I confess I quite\ndespair of being able, by any words, to give you such a description as\nwill enable you to form a true idea of their dreamlike beauty. They\nare in nature what the Taj Mahal at Agra is in architecture,\u2014a thing\nindescribable\u2014a fairy city of lace carved in pure marble,\u2014a thousand\nwaterfalls suddenly frozen and fringed with icicles. Perhaps you will\nbest picture it to yourself as a steep hillside, artificially terraced so\nas to form hundreds of tiny fields\u2014flooded rice-fields, such as we see in\nmountainous parts of India, and elsewhere; but the stone-work enclosing\nand sustaining each little lake is of white marble, fringed with\nstalactites resembling the most creamy-white coral, which, if it escapes\nthe barbarous hands of tourists, should grow more beautiful year by year,\nas the ever-trickling water drips over it. So rapid is the deposit, that\nfern-leaves and sticks which drop into the water are in a few days so\nthickly incrusted, that they look as if they had been crystallised by\na confectioner; and sometimes a dead bird falls in, and is apparently\npetrified while its flesh is still quite fresh.\n\nSo there are feathers and ferns enough to supply travellers with harmless\nmementoes, if only they would be content with these; but I regret to say\nthat the method of proving the rapidity of this deposit which finds most\nfavour with the snobs of all nations, is that of writing their names in\npencil on the smooth porcelain surface, where, within a few hours, it is\nrendered indelible by a thin transparent coating of silica. One crime\nagainst good taste leads to another; and some ugly scars on the fair\nwhite surface show where curiosity hunters have taken the trouble to cut\nout and appropriate certain names of note.\n\nTo our shame be it spoken, this practice has called forth a grave rebuke\nfrom the Maoris, who have had a notice printed, in English, imploring\nvisitors to abstain from defacing the beautiful terraces, either by\nwriting their names or by breaking off stalactites, the slow deposit of\nages.\n\nThe total height of the white terraces is only about 150 feet, and the\nwidth at the base about 300 feet; but the amount of beauty of detail\ncrowded into this space defies description. While some of the terraces\nare so deep and bold as to suggest marble battlements of fairy citadels,\nothers resemble gigantic clam-shells, filled to the brim with the\nmost exquisite blue water, sometimes tinged with violet, which, as it\ndrips from the lip of the shell, forms a deep fringe of the loveliest\nstalactites, generally pure white, but sometimes tinged with other\ncolours. Each great shell-like bath partly overhangs the one below it,\nso that in some the bather can find shelter from the sun beneath this\nwonderful canopy with its dripping gems. All the lovely forms of frost\ncrystals are here produced in enduring material, which alternately\nsuggests rare mosses and fine lace-work, all alike carved in white\nalabaster.\n\nThe source of all this beauty is a large boiling pool, situated about\n150 feet above the lake. It is about 30 feet in diameter, and lies in a\ncrater of about 260 feet in circumference, enclosing it on three sides\nwith steep reddish cliffs, while on the fourth side, whence the marble\nterraces descend to the lake, there is a rocky island about 12 feet high,\nwhich seems to suggest that the walls of the crater may once have formed\na complete circle, and have gradually been decomposed by the action of\nsteam. By watching the ebb and flow of the boiling waves, it is generally\npossible to reach this island and look into the water-crater. Here, from\nunfathomable depths, wells a fountain of the most exquisite turquoise\nblue, and through the crystalline waters you discern the coral-like\nborder which fringes both the inner and outer lip of the great porcelain\nbasin which lines the crater.\n\nWhen the wind blows from the south, the water sinks far down into the\ndepths of the crater, and then, instead of the ordinary cream colour, the\ndazzling whiteness of the basin, and of the whole series of terraces,\nis like that of driven snow. At such times you can look right down the\nfunnel, which measures about eight feet across: its sides are smooth,\nand as perpendicular as the shaft of a well. But such a sight cannot\nbe obtained without risk; for occasionally, without a moment\u2019s notice,\na vast column of water shoots far into the air, with a tremendous\nexplosion, and the whole stairway becomes the bed of one wide waterfall.\nGenerally, however, it is pretty safe to venture while the wind is\nsoutherly. But so soon as it changes, the water rises at the rate of\nthree or four feet in an hour, heaving and roaring as it does so, till\nat length it shoots heavenward in a dazzling column sixty feet high and\nabove twenty in diameter, and descends in blue ripples which overflow the\nterraces. The ordinary condition of the pool is tolerably equable, and\nonly a slight upheaval of the centre, like that of a boiling, bubbling\npot, marks it as a geyser. Its temperature is about 210\u00b0 Fahr.; but the\nwater gradually cools in its descent, and the basins near the level of\nthe lake are comparatively cool. So this wonderful series of shell-shaped\nbaths are not only of all sizes and depths, but also of every shade of\ntemperature; and the height of luxury in bathing is to revel in each by\nturn, increasing in warmth as you approach the summit, or decreasing as\nyou descend towards the lake.\n\nHalf the charm of these natural baths consists in the exquisite colour\nof the water, which is a chemical turquoise blue, so vivid that it is\neven reflected on the cloud of white steam which for ever rises from\nthe crater. The tone of the sky has no influence whatever in imparting\nthis hue, which never varies, and looks strangely incongruous with a\nprimrose or daffodil sunset, or when, as this morning, the grey clouds\nwere flushed with rose-colour, but not a bit of blue was in the sky.\nPerhaps I may best describe the colour as cobalt dissolved in milk, but\nthen it is perfectly transparent, and in some pools the water is tinged\nwith amethyst, in others it is like liquid opals. I am quite at a loss to\naccount for these varied colours, as all the pools are filled from one\nsource, and the lovely cream-coloured basins in which the water lies are\nall formed by the continual deposit from the water itself.\n\nI think the most plausible theory I have heard suggested as to the\nformation of these terraces is, that before the wall of the crater gave\nway, and allowed the imprisoned waters to escape, the hillside was\nclothed with the same scrub of dark _ti_ tree or _manukau_ and fern as\ncovers all the country round; but as year by year the fluid flint flowed\nover and incrusted it, the whole became the basis for the series of\npools, irregular in shape, size, and depth as we now behold them. You can\nimagine readily enough how a shrub like a gigantic heather-bush, thus\nbent forward by the pressure of water, would eventually become the rim of\na very deep pool, in which swimmers would find ample room to move, while\nreeds and ferns would form only a shallow basin,\u2014a fit bath for children.\nThis theory, too, would account for the lip of some basins being smooth,\nor like a coil of rope carved in marble, while others are in just such\nclusters of stalactite as might be formed were a huge _manukau_ bush\nthe foundation on which the deposit was commenced. So delicate and\napparently brittle is this nature-carved lace-work, that at first I felt\ncompelled to tread lightly so as not to injure it; but I soon saw that\nthis caution was needless, so I now reserve all my care to avoid stepping\nunnecessarily into the hot pools. I need scarcely tell you that such\nwalking as this makes short work of the strongest boots!\n\nWith the rashness of a \u201cnew chum\u201d (which is the colonial term to express\na very green new arrival), I determined to ascend to the red cliff\noverlooking the crater, much to the disgust of the Maori who had taken\ncharge of me, and whose experience had taught him a wholesome dread\nof the thin treacherous crust over which we had to climb. Finding his\nremonstrances were vain, he contented himself with cutting branches of\nbrushwood with which to cover the most doubtful spots on which we had\nto tread. This acted in the same manner as huge Canadian snow-shoes,\nin diminishing the risk of the thin crust of soil giving way beneath\nour footsteps. But certainly the peril is greater than I at first\nrealised; for the whole rock is so undermined and disintegrated by the\nperpetual action of subterranean steam, that there is always danger of\nits crumbling away on the slightest pressure. When I rejoined Mrs Way,\nshe heard my guide tell his companions that it was now their turn to\nescort the rash white woman, but that he would not risk his life again by\naccompanying her on such expeditions.\n\nIt seems that not long ago a gentleman persisted in thus exploring,\nthough the Maoris positively refused to follow him. In a very few minutes\na patch of apparently firm grass gave way, and he sank up to the waist;\nmost fortunately it proved to be only a steam-hole. However, it was a\nsufficient warning, and he was happily able to scramble out by himself,\nand quickly retraced his steps.\n\nIt was difficult to turn away from anything so fascinating as the\nfairy-like white terraces; but my companion told me of other wonders in\nstore. So she led me by a narrow path through the low gloomy bush, with\ncountless boiling springs bubbling and steaming on every side of us,\u2014some\nso veiled by overhanging ferns as to be dangerously invisible, while\nothers throw up jets of water which at certain seasons attain a height\nof from thirty to forty feet\u2014their steam, of course, rising far higher.\nOne of these forms a small, clear, sea-green lake, which it lashes into\nboiling waves\u2014literally boiling\u2014and ceaselessly breaking on the shore in\nwhite foam. The temperature of the pool is 210\u00b0 Fahr.\n\nA few steps farther our path lay along a high ridge of rock, not two feet\nwide, separating two water-craters. In one lies a dark indigo-coloured\npool, from which rises an upright column of dazzling white; while on\nthe other side the water shoots out in a horizontal jet. Both are\nintermittent, and they play alternately. The colour of the volcanic rocks\nat that point is wonderful. The most vivid metallic gold, chrome yellow,\ngreen, brown, and red, appear mingled as in some strange patchwork, and\nthe whole is traversed by myriad golden tubes of crystallised sulphur,\nthrough which the scalding steam issues in little white puffs.\n\nThe noise of all these roaring fountains was something\ndeafening,\u2014vulgarly suggestive of a crowded railway junction, with\nhigh-pressure engines puffing and blowing on every side. Each moment we\nwere enveloped in clouds of steam which hid everything from our view; and\nin places the fumes of sulphur almost choked us. Occasionally there was\na pause\u2014a moment of awful silence, followed by a subterranean rumbling\nof sulphureous gases, and then came a deafening explosion. It was a weird\nscene, yet so fascinating in its horror that only the recollection of how\nmuch there was still to see urged us onward.\n\nThere are other geysers scattered all over the hill, each having its\nown Maori name, which is generally descriptive\u2014such as \u201cthe sighing\nfountain,\u201d \u201cthe quiet pool,\u201d \u201cthe long water,\u201d &c. Some spout three or\nfour times a-day, others at regular intervals of so many minutes.\n\nI believe there are about twenty-five terraces of the same sort as the\none I have described to you\u2014not on so large a scale, but still of some\nimportance; and besides these there are an immense number of smaller ones\nin this immediate neighbourhood. Some of the geysers which produce these,\noccasionally throw up jets to the height of from twenty to thirty feet.\n\nWe halted a long time near an intermittent spring, which was playing in\nwild excitement, sometimes from one side of the basin, then the other,\ndashing its boiling waves against the enclosing rock walls with a mighty\nuproar. Sometimes for a few moments it seemed weary, and the clear\ntransparent waters lay still and calm; then it uprose more turbulent than\nbefore, lashing itself into fury, and tossing up jets of solid water to\na height of from twenty to thirty feet. Not far from this pool, there\nis a singular blowpipe on the side of the hill. It is only about a foot\nin diameter, but from it rushes a ceaseless column of steam, working at\nhigh-pressure, and shrieking like some distressed spirit.\n\nStill hurrying on through the dark _manukau_ scrub, we next found\nourselves beside a lake of half-cooled liquid grey mud, dotted all over\nwith small mud volcanoes, each a perfect model of Vesuvius. From every\ncone issued puffs of white steam, shortly followed by a discharge of\nboiling clay, which, trickling down the cone, gradually increased its\nsize. So liquid was the mud, that each miniature volcano was perfectly\nreflected in the pool.\n\nOn every side of us lay craters in which masses of thick boiling mud were\nbeing slowly upheaved\u2014rising and falling with a dull muffled gurgle, and\nfinally bursting in one huge bubble. It was a hideous sight, and gave\nme a more horrible feeling of repulsion than anything I ever remember.\nDante might here have borrowed a new phase of horror for his \u2018Inferno.\u2019\nThe bare idea, that by the slipping of a foot one might be hopelessly\nengulfed in so appalling a tomb, was too dreadful, and I confess I turned\naway shuddering.\n\nAs we crossed a bed of dried-up cracked mud, our footsteps echoed as if\nthe ground below was hollow, and it gave me a thrill of horror to think\nwhere we might land if that thin crust should give way! All the ground\nhereabouts is just steaming mud, but there are diversities in the degrees\nof horror. One mud-pool differs essentially from another. Many of them\nthrow out a greasy clay of an ashen grey hue, which the Maoris eat with\nthe greatest relish, not merely to appease hunger, but as a delicacy. A\ngreedy man will swallow a pound weight of this edible clay immediately\nafter a very good meal, and seems none the worse of his peck of dirt.\nOther mud-pools are full of dark slime, almost as black as pitch, and\nvery hot: it is these which gurgle and burst in huge bubbles. Others,\nagain, throw up enormous lumps of soft black mud, which fall back, to be\nagain thrown up, as if the earth-spirits were indulging in a grim game at\nball.\n\nThough bewildered by the clouds of steam which encompassed us on every\nside, we still pressed on, but in a few moments were brought to a\nstandstill by so deafening a roar that no thunder-crash you ever heard\ncould equal it. It proceeded from a deep fissure in the rocks, whence\nrose blinding clouds of steam. We approached this Devil\u2019s Caldron as near\nas we dared, not able to hear a word either of us uttered; then, fairly\nstupefied, we turned away, thankful for the power of flight, and agreeing\nthat we had surely been standing at the very mouth of hell.\n\nTwo minutes later we paused beside a perfectly cold calm green lake. Its\nwater, though not clear, is green in itself, and, moreover, reflects\nthe green scrub and ferns which clothe the encircling hills. It is not\nparticularly pretty, but so very calm and peaceful that it contrasted\nwonderfully with the appalling scene of turmoil and noise we had just\nleft.\n\nEvening was now closing in, and it was time to think of supper, so\nretracing our steps past the horrible mud-lake, and threading our way\ncautiously among the craters, where we could hear the boiling mud giving\ngreat gulps (_wallops_ seems the only descriptive word), we emerged from\nthe dark copse, and found ourselves on the shore of the lake just as the\nwonderful sunset tints shed their glory on the bare volcanic mountains\nround us, lending them a beauty not their own.\n\nWe found that the Maori lads had pitched our little tent and made all\nready for the night, and that some previous traveller had here built a\ntiny hut, of which the men took possession as their own quarters. Old\nMary had cooked our food in a boiling pool close by, using a flax basket\n(exactly like those you so commonly see in England) as her cooking-pot.\nPresently the lads lighted a fire, and formed a picturesque group on the\nedge of the lake, while we sat listening to the mingled sounds of the\nnight,\u2014the rush of steam from the larger and more distant springs, the\nbubbling of those close round, and the shrill cries of the wild-fowl.\n\nIt had been a day of new sensations, and full of interest from dawn till\nnight. One more new experience remained, on which good old Mary strongly\ninsisted\u2014namely, that we should bathe in a pool of warm liquid mud. It is\nan artificially-constructed tank on the edge of the lake, to which the\nMaoris have brought water from a boiling spring by a small conduit. The\nold woman led the way cautiously along a path beset with dangers even in\nbroad daylight. Finding the bath too hot, she dashed away the surface\nwater, when we found the lower portion comparatively cool, whence we\ninferred that the water of the sulphureous hot spring must be lighter\nthan that of the lake.\n\nThough not inviting to the eye, we found our mud-bath so enjoyable that\nit was with the utmost reluctance we at length left it, and plunged into\nthe cold lake to avoid any fear of chill. It was very calm and beautiful\nin the quiet moonlight. The night air was keen, and we were glad of all\nour warm wraps, though the steam which stole up through the ground below\nus must have somewhat warmed the tent.\n\nThe Maoris have the greatest faith in mud-baths; and there are certain\npools to which they bring their sick from far and near. Coming up the\ncreek to Rotomahana, we passed a native house built over a pool, in which\na sick lad lives permanently. He was carried there several months ago,\nsuffering from some aggravated hip-disease, and experienced considerable\nrelief from lying in the water. But having been left there for some hours\nhe very naturally fainted on being removed, so his kindred resolved to\nkeep him permanently in the water, and there he has lain week after week,\nand will probably remain until he dies.\n\nAt early dawn this morning we started in the canoe in search of fresh\nwonders, leaving the tent and our goods to take care of themselves. We\ntook most of our food with us, but the men, having implicit trust in the\nhonesty of all Maoris, left a piece of mutton, which Mrs Way had given\nthem, to cook itself in a boiling spring, and on their return they found\nit had been stolen, contrary to all custom.\n\nWe rowed first to the little isle Puai, part of which is actually a\nsmall volcano, and the rest soft mud and fissured rock, through which the\nsteam comes hissing and puffing: nevertheless the existence of a small\nnative hut shows that some travellers have selected this dangerous spot\nfor their night-quarters. It certainly has the advantage of commanding a\ncapital view all round; and as we looked back to our own camping-ground\nwe saw the dark mountains veiled by a thousand columns of white steam,\nwhich also rose from the surface of the lake, mingling with the wreaths\nof morning mist. Had time allowed we might have visited fresh groups\nof geysers, terraces, fumaroles, and solfataras. As it was, we devoted\nthe morning to the pink terraces, which, I think, would be the most\nfascinating place for camping, though the Maoris prefer our site, as\noffering superior culinary advantages. But such vulgar considerations\nwould be outweighed by the charm of having perfect command, at all hours,\nof this, the very queen of all baths, and also by the beauty of the\ngeneral view of the lake from the hill overlooking this terrace.\n\nThis flight of marble basins differs from the others in that they have\nnone of the sharp coral-like stalactites which, while they so greatly\nenhanced the beauty of the white terraces, do detract somewhat from\nthe comfort of bathing in them, especially to foolish people who, like\nmyself, cannot swim, and so dare not venture into the deeper pools. The\npink terrace has no such drawback, its marble being so polished that you\nmay walk barefooted over it, or strike yourself against the curved edges\nof the basins without the slightest discomfort. Rock and water are alike\nsmooth and warm and pleasant, and you can prolong the delight of the bath\nto any extent, passing from one pool to another, sometimes receiving a\ngentle shower as the sparkling drops trickle from the overhanging rim\nof a pool, perhaps eight or ten feet above you, or else lying still in\npassive enjoyment, and watching the changing lights that flit across lake\nand hill, and all the time the kindly water is coating you with a thin\nfilm of that silica which makes the bath so smooth and the bather so\nsilky.\n\nI wonder how it would pay to start a \u201cSilica Bath Company\u201d in London? We\nhave certainly enough of flint in the old country, so silica cannot be\nlacking.\n\nThese salmon-coloured terraces are subject to the same variations as\ntheir white neighbours. They, too, are formed by a geyser which plays in\na basin about sixty feet above the lake. This lovely blue pool is also\nencircled on three sides by high bare cliffs of many colours. The pool is\nnearly fifty feet in diameter, and is surrounded by a marble platform\nabout twenty feet in width, where you can generally walk in safety, but\nare always liable to a sudden rise and overflow of boiling water. We\nwalked all over the terraces dry-shod this morning, but later in the day\nthey were flooded to the depth of five inches.\n\nI got a large very careful drawing from the ridge overlooking these\nterraces, with our tent and the white terraces on the other side of the\nlake. From this point I observed a great cloud of primrose-coloured\nsteam rising from a cone\u2014so returning to the canoe, we rowed round to\nthis spot, and found a large active volcano of the purest sulphur.\nThe whole of the crater is pure yellow, and so are many of the rocks,\nand also the water of the lake for a considerable distance, making a\nstrange foreground to the vivid blue of the distant lake and sky. In\nthe afternoon we retraced much of the ground we went over yesterday, as\nof course I am anxious to secure drawings of some of the most striking\nscenes. One might work here for months and find strange new subjects\nevery day. It certainly is not comfortable sketching-ground, as there\nare few spots where it would be possible to sit down, and it is no easy\nmatter to hold a large block and work standing, even when a faithful\nMaori stands by to hold your colour-box. One man, H\u00e9m\u00e9, is very good and\nhelpful, but the others rather hold aloof, being greatly awed by a number\nof their countrymen, who have arrived with other canoes, and are making\nthemselves odious.\n\nIt seems that, at the instigation of a white man (who, for his own\nreasons, was anxious to curry favour with the Maoris), they have issued\na printed notice, to the effect that no one shall take photographs in\nthis district without paying them a tax of \u00a35 for that privilege. From\nthe first moment of my arrival at Wairoa, my sketching-blocks became a\nsource of keen interest to the natives, who therein scented a possibility\nof extortion. From that moment they have returned to the attack again and\nagain; and though, happily for me, they consider it useless to attack\na stupid woman who cannot understand them, they have never ceased to\nannoy Mrs Way, whom they consider bound to take their part, and are very\nangry indeed because she tries to make them understand that water-colour\npainting and photography are distinct arts. They have decided that I\nought, on the contrary, to pay them a larger sum, because the coloured\ndrawings give a truer idea of the place, and must therefore be more\nvaluable. It was quite in vain to suggest that the sight of these\npictures would induce fresh visitors to come and spend their much-coveted\ngold in the district. This only added fresh fuel to the fire. They\nsaid it was certain I should make a fortune by showing those pictures\nin Auckland, perhaps even in Britain, while they, owners of the place,\nwould have no share in the profits. Of course I was determined not to pay\nthe money, both from a natural aversion to being done, and also because\nsuch a precedent would have settled the question, to the detriment of all\nfuture sketchers. But you can imagine the annoyance which these noisy\ntalkers have caused us: happily they are all camped at the other side of\nthe lake.\n\nNow I am thoroughly tired, and am going to repeat the mud-bath of last\nnight, and then turn in for a good night\u2019s rest.\n\n * * * * *\n\n OLD MISSION STATION, WAIROA, _April 5_.\n\nWe were aroused at 4 A.M. by Mr Way, who had ridden all the distance\nfrom Wairoa to bring us a loaf of bread, and to announce the unexpected\narrival at his house of a party of friends, who purposed joining us in\nthe course of the day. He had waded across the creek at the head of the\nlake; and having thus provided us with breakfast, he returned to rejoin\nhis party at home.\n\nBeing now thoroughly awake, and dear old Mary being equally so, we stole\nquietly out of the tent and went off to bathe at the white terraces.\nIt was a lovely sunrise; the water was delicious\u2014temptations to linger\nmanifold. Altogether it was a good deal later than we thought, when we\nreturned along the shore, gracefully draped in our plaids and blankets,\nbut by no means fully attired. To my dismay I perceived a large party of\nMaoris assembled round our cooking-spring, and another canoe lying beside\nours. Mary recognised the party as being with two Scotch gentlemen, who\nhad arrived on the other side of the lake the previous day, and with whom\nwe had fraternised by small exchanges of fish and bread, matches, and\npepper and salt. Fortunately they had gone off to the mud volcanoes; so\nhaving dressed with all speed, we were able on their return to invite\nthem to share our breakfast, just taken out of the hot spring. Their\narrival was most opportune; for the Maoris, having talked themselves\ninto great excitement, just then came up _en masse_ to inform Mrs Way\nthat I must either at once pay them the coveted \u00a35, or leave the place\ninstantly. They were so very stormy and decided, that it would have been\nextremely unpleasant had we been alone. Happily the quiet determination\nof our new friends overawed them, and they fell back grumbling.\n\nAfter this little episode we fell into home talk, and one of them asked\nme if I was any relation to Colonel G. C. of Auchintoul. On hearing I was\nhis sister, he proceeded to tell me how, last year, he was fishing on the\nDeveron, and, much to his embarrassment, had hooked a seven-pound trout\nwith a very light trout-line, when happily Colonel G. C. espied him, came\nto the rescue, and gaffed the fish. Strange, was it not, that Bill should\nhave rescued a stranger from a wild fish in Banffshire, and that in the\nfollowing season the fisher should come to the antipodes, just in time to\nrescue me from the wild Maoris! Thanks to this seasonable reinforcement,\nI was able to do a good deal of steady work for several hours.\n\nIn the course of the day, the other party of friends arrived, and\nincluded two ladies. Arthur Fisher also arrived. The day I left Tauranga\nhe had been obliged to return to Kati Kati on business, which entailed\na walk of forty miles. He walked back to Tauranga, which made forty\nmore, before he was able to start on the actual trip to Rotomahana.\nUnfortunately he arrived so late that he had but a hurried glimpse of all\nthe wonders.\n\nThen we all started to row back here, and all the canoes raced down Lake\nTarawara. It was very amusing, and the rowers became immensely excited.\nArriving here, our kind hosts insisted on giving up their own room to the\nother two ladies and me, and we all had a very cheery evening. Early this\nmorning, however, the Maoris returned to the charge with renewed vigour,\ndetermined to extort that wretched \u00a35. They tell Mary that my pictures\nshall never leave the district: that they will seize my portfolios and\ndestroy them all. Mary says it is only bluster, but Mrs Way is not so\nsure; and as I should have no redress if irreparable damage is done, we\nhave packed the precious sketches securely in the middle of a huge bundle\nof plaids and pillows, so as to escape attention, and the faithful H\u00e9m\u00e9\nwill carry it to the coach.\n\n * * * * *\n\n MRS WILSON\u2019S HOTEL, OHINEMUTU, 10 P.M.\n\nVictory! we have triumphed! By good luck a large party of Europeans\nhappened to come up by coach, so we enlisted them, and formed altogether\na party of fourteen whites, with the baggage in the middle. Then we\nmarched through the village to the hotel, just as the coach-and-four was\nready to start. The foe mustered strong, but apparently thought further\nattack undesirable, so we drove off in safety. But I confess I am glad\nto know that we are here on the territory of another tribe, who are not\nlikely to sympathise with the people of Wairoa. Mrs Wilson has welcomed\nme back with the cordiality of an old friend, as have all the residents\nand visitors in the house\u2014kind, hearty people.\n\n * * * * *\n\n AUCKLAND, _Feb. 8_.\n\nBefore daybreak the following morning I was out sketching the steaming\ngraveyard in the Old Pah; and after a very early breakfast started by\ncoach for Tauranga, leaving the little village still shrouded in thick\nclouds of white steam, which sparkled in dewy beads on the webs of\nmyriads of gossamer spiders. A light fire had passed over the ferny\nhills\u2014so light that the skeletons of the brackens were left standing;\nand it seemed as if each branch of scorched fern, far as the eye could\nreach, was veiled with one of these fairy webs. Arriving at Tauranga, I\nfound that kind Mrs Edgecumbe had, with her own hands, prepared a capital\ntea-dinner for me, her maid having, according to colonial custom, gone\noff suddenly, leaving her quite alone on her own resources, with four\nchildren to look after!\n\nAn hour later I embarked in the coasting-steamer, where, much to my\ndelight, I found Mrs Ferguson coming up from her remote station to see\nher sweet little daughter, who for the present is left in Auckland. We\nspent the night together, lying on a sky-light, tucked in beneath a\npile of blankets, by the good old Scotch captain, who had previously\nadministered to us a most comfortable glass of real hot toddy! It proved\na dirty night of storm and rain; but we were quite cosy, and Ella filled\nme with amazement by accounts of the rides which she constantly has to do\nalone, often in the dark, to get nails or anything else required by the\nbuilders of her future home, and of the dangerous fords she has to cross,\nsometimes swimming her horse. She makes very light of all the hardships\nof her tent-life, which include cooking and baking for the party. It is\nwonderful what fragile and delicate ladies can do when they resolve to\nface colonial life!\n\nWe arrived here safely, and I found Lady Gordon and the children and\nColonel Pratt all ready for our return to Fiji, on board the Zealandia,\nwhich sails next Thursday. Mr Maudslay is expected from Wellington, just\nin time to accompany us. We all feel much better for our trip here:\nand though I greatly regret having seen nothing of the Southern Isle,\nwe are not sorry to be going back to our island home.... It is rather\naggravating, both to Lady Gordon and myself, that every one we meet\ninsists on congratulating us on our very fortunate investments in the\nlucky Moanatairi mine. It is quite useless for us to assert that we only\nwish we had had such good luck, but that, unfortunately, the idea never\nentered our minds. The fact of my having been there is quite sufficient,\nand we are now looked upon as millionaires! We only wish it had been\ntrue! Poor Fiji stands greatly in need of such. Good-bye.\u2014Your loving\nsister.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI.\n\n FIJIAN RIVERS\u2014SAMOAN ENVOYS\u2014DEATH OF A TRUE APOSTLE\u2014A\n REVIVAL\u2014MAKING A RACE-COURSE\u2014MISSION TO NEW BRITAIN.\n\n\n SUVA, VITI LEVU, FIJI, _March 26, 1877_.\n\nMY DEAR NELL,\u2014Once more we are safely back in the isles. We came from\nAuckland in the Zealandia\u2014a noble vessel, upwards of 3200 tons. You can\nimagine how horrible was the change when she dropped us at Khandavu, and\nwe found only the Barb, a wretched little ketch of about 35 tons (the\nbest vessel poor Fiji had to send), and which was first to bring us here,\nand was then to return to take the other passengers and the mails to\nLevuka. We might well say \u201cbad is the best,\u201d for this, which at present\nis _the_ Government ship, has no accommodation of any sort for ladies.\n\nFortunately we landed on a lovely day, and quite enjoyed our row up the\nharbour, whence we walked across the isthmus to the opposite bay, where\nthe Barb was anchored. It is a lovely coast, with white sand and many\nshells, and thickly fringed with palms. We lunched on the shore, and then\nembarked. We had hardly set sail when it commenced to rain heavily. The\ntiny cabin was so stuffy that it seemed hard enough to condemn even the\nchildren to stay in it. They and their nurse had a miserable night of\nsickness. For ourselves, we considered a drenching to be the lesser evil\nof the two, so when night came on, we lay down on the deck with no awning\nand the rain pouring, while gusts of wind periodically blew our umbrellas\ninside out. The gentlemen, saturated and miserable, did their best to\nbe cheery, and occasionally came round to offer us creature comfort\nin the way of bits of chocolate and biscuit, or a very needful nip of\nbrandy or claret. So the long night wore through. At daybreak we were off\nSuva, but the mist was so dense that it was nearly noon before we could\ndistinguish the passage through the coral reef, and run into harbour.\nYou can imagine how glad we were to see the barge, and the gig with the\nnice Fijian boatmen, all so pleased to welcome us back; and soon we were\ncomfortably housed in Mrs Joski\u2019s pleasant home. (Nasova is, as usual,\nundergoing re-thatching.)\n\nHaving landed us, the Barb returned to Khandavu to fetch the mails and\nthe other passengers (including two ladies and a baby). Though the\naccommodation there was wretched enough, it must have been Paradise\ncompared with what followed. For five days and nights they lay becalmed\nin pouring rain ere they reached Levuka! Such are the pleasures of\ntravelling in Fiji! And yet its beauty atones for many discomforts; and\nthe lovely days, when they do come, make up for all the rainy ones. And I\ndo feel so glad once more to see canoes with quaint sails, and graceful\nliving bronzes with artistic drapery. What a country this would be for\nan artist studying figure painting! The people love to see themselves on\npaper, and will sit as still as a rock for hours to be sketched. It is\nlamentable that such good models should be wasted.\n\nWe had only been here one day when a messenger came from Nasova to say\nthat a vessel had arrived from Samoa bringing a deputation of chiefs,\nrepresenting the various conflicting parties there, who had come to\ndiscuss the subject of British protection, and to see for themselves how\nit is working in Fiji. So Sir Arthur, escorted by Mr Maudslay, went off\nto receive them.\n\nI think I have already told you that this is the spot which the Home\nGovernment has just selected as the site of the future capital. Great\nis the howl of dismay raised by the householders of Levuka at the\nidea of the change; but there is no immediate prospect of a serious\nmigration from there, for as yet there are only four houses here. From\nthis verandah we have a lovely view of the harbour and the beautiful\nmountain-ranges, seen through festoons of large-leaved _granadilla_,\nthe great passion-flower, which at present is loaded with ripe fruit as\nbig as a small pumpkin. These we eat with milk and sugar, and find them\nexcellent. We have had some charming expeditions by boat and canoe, the\nlatter being available in many places where we cannot take the boats.\n\nNothing can exceed the loveliness of some of the many rivers which flow\ninto Suva harbour, none too wide to admit of full enjoyment of the rich\ntropical foliage which clothes their banks, overhanging the stream, and\nsometimes mirrored on the clear waters. Delicate and beautiful creepers\nof every conceivable pattern, assuming forms more or less akin to our\nown Virginian creeper, convolvulus, and ash, only in infinite variety\nand luxuriance, blend their foliage one with another in inextricable\nconfusion, and together overspread the tall trees, thence falling in long\nveils as of dripping leaves. Verily these green things of the earth are\nthings of beauty. Loveliest of all is a climbing fern which the natives\ncall the _Wa kolou_, or god fern,[55] and with which they make garlands\neither for their own shoulders, or to twine round the ridge-pole of\ntheir houses. And nowhere have I seen tree-ferns in greater abundance\nthan here. You come upon banks so densely clothed with them that you\ndistinguish no other form. Still it is hard to get reconciled to the\nwholesale destruction of so much beauty, which results from the use\nof the stem for ordinary purposes, such as making fences and supports\nfor the interior of houses. Multitudes of wild duck haunt these quiet\nstreams, and tantalise the sportsman by falling wounded, with just life\nenough to dive; and if only they can reach the tangled roots of the\nmangrove, they are never seen again.\n\nOne day Adolphe Joski rowed me up the lovely Tama Vua river to see a\nvillage perched on a high crag. We landed, and climbed up a rock-stair,\nwhich was like the stairs of a dozen cathedral towers heaped one above\nthe other, and as slippery as ice\u2014rather a difficult approach to one\u2019s\nhome! Yet in this eyrie we found several families with their little\nones, apparently perfectly content with their quarters. According to\ncustom, the graves of the village are on a point still more difficult\nof access, in order that they may be safe from the desecrating hands of\nfoes. Of course, the position of both village and graves tells of the\ndays of war and cannibalism. Already some of the people have come down to\na more convenient level; and we halted at a village near the river, and\nrested in the house of a fine old chief, whose fireplace and great black\ncooking-pots I sketched, while his graceful daughter sat by, watching my\nwork, and peeling ripe delicious oranges, with which she fed me, while my\ncompanion talked to the old chief.\n\nAnother day we all went to a neighbouring village to see Andi Clara,\nwho is the nicest Fijian lady we know, and has such a pretty new\nbrown baby. Last year\u2019s baby has grown quite beautiful. It is Lady\nGordon\u2019s god-child, and called after her, Andi Racheli.[56] I halted\nthat afternoon, to sketch in the sugar-cane fields; but the position\nproved bad for the arts, as my escort never ceased peeling canes, and\nadministering small juicy pieces, which, though irresistible, were\ndecidedly sticky.\n\nOne day last week I started alone at daybreak to sketch a group of\nbeautiful peaks; some points in the range are upwards of 4500 feet in\nheight: my path lay through the deserted sugar-fields, where the cane is\nnow left to run wild. Though useless for commerce, it is sufficiently\nluxuriant to reach far above my head, and that morning I found it\ndripping from the previous night\u2019s rain. Of course I was soon soaked,\nand had enough to do to keep my paper dry. Following a faint old native\ntrack, I got into a glen full of dark _eevie_ trees (the Fijian chestnut\ntree). I pushed on, passing occasional patches of cultivation, yam and\n_taro_, thinking that where these were, I must find my way all right.\nThen I came to a limpid stream, overshadowed by a shaddock-tree, loaded\nwith great ripe fruit, like huge oranges, pink inside; so I rested\nand ate shaddock, and then started afresh. Soon I lost all trace of\nthe track, and I could scarcely force my way through the dense reedy\ngrass, which is eight or ten feet high, and all matted with convolvulus.\nWhichever way I turned, up hill or down, it was all the same weary waste\nof tall reeds; and if by chance I found an old _taro_ patch, there\nremained no sign of any path. At last I concluded that I was really lost,\nand shouted till I was tired, hoping that some villager might have come\nto dig his yams; but no voice answered. Then I bethought me if only I\ncould strike the glen again, I could scramble along in the bed of the\nstream till I hit the track; and at last I happily did so, and got home\npretty well tired out, as you can imagine.\n\n * * * * *\n\n BAU, _April 29, 1877_.\n\nAfter ten days at Suva it was decided that the whole party should return\nto headquarters at Nasova without waiting for the completion of the\nthatching, though it does cause a confusion and a hubbub all about the\nplace. So we started\u2014ourselves in a large new boat, the Abbeys in the\ngig, a third boat with luggage and servants, towing the Baron\u2019s canoe,\nand two beautiful cutters (belonging to Mr Maudslay and Captain Knollys)\nbringing the rest of the household goods. We were thus quite a fleet.\nFive hours\u2019 sail brought us to Rewa, where we went to see the wife of the\nchief, Andi Tartilia, who had a small daughter last week. This atom is\ncalled \u201cThe Lightning of Heaven.\u201d It was handed to me on a tiny mat, very\nfinely woven, and just its own size. It is against all Fijian custom that\nthe child of a chief should leave nursing-arms for the first ten days,\nso many ladies of rank assemble and relieve guard. Five were sitting\ntogether, cuddled up in a huge piece of _tappa_, which was considered\nnecessary to keep the baby warm. The mother lay close to the fireplace,\nin the middle of the floor, with a blazing fire, and an immense square of\nhandsome _tappa_ thrown over her, covering a space of many yards. This\nwith a thermometer at about 85\u00b0!\n\nWe came here that same evening, and received our usual cordial welcome\nfrom Mr and Mrs Langham. Lady Gordon had arranged to proceed to Nasova\nthe next day, but I gladly accepted an invitation to stay here a few\ndays. I was all the better pleased to do so, as the party of Samoan\nchiefs having had their interview with the Governor regarding British\nprotection, have been sent here for further information from the native\nchiefs, and of course their reception by the Vuni Valu and his people is\na matter of great interest. The chiefs are representatives of the three\nparties who have been contending for mastery in Samoa, and who now crave\nthe help of the British lion in settling their difficulties. Two of the\nparty talk excellent English, and all are most intelligent. The two\nladies are pretty, graceful girls.\n\nA curious piece of old Fijian etiquette was observed on their arrival.\nThe little vessel which brought them from Ovalau had anchored at Bau the\nnight we arrived here. Of course with ten Samoan gentlemen and two ladies\non board so small a craft, the pleasure of getting ashore would have\nbeen very great. But this could not be dreamt of. Not till the following\nmorning, when the Vuni Valu sent messengers to _swim_ off to them, with\nwhales\u2019 teeth and other gifts, and invite them to land, could they do so.\nThen they came ashore in great state, all very handsome chief-like men,\ndressed in heavy drapery of the thickest hand painted _tappa_. They were\nreceived by the Fijian chiefs, and conducted to Thakombau\u2019s house, where\nthere was a great ceremonial drinking of yangona.\n\nIn the evening we went to call in due form on the Samoan ladies, and\nfound them at the house of the king\u2019s son, Ratu Timothy, and his pretty\nTongan wife. Of course the great wooden yangona-bowl occupied a central\nposition, and the party lay in picturesque groups on the mats all round.\nTo-morrow they are all to be taken an expedition up the Rewa, to show\nthem something of the country, the sugar-mills, &c.\n\nThis evening I have been a lovely expedition with Mr Langham, up one\nof the beautiful little rivers on the mainland, to the village of Na\nOoa Ooa. The stream gradually narrowed as we ascended, and we glided\non beneath overhanging trees, in and out between old mangroves, which\ndropped their strange weird roots into the stream from a height of fully\ntwenty feet. As we returned late in the evening to the river\u2019s mouth,\nthe clouds on the horizon were fiery as if at sunset, and the red moon\nrose from the sea like a ball of molten gold, casting long gleaming\nreflections on the still waters.\n\nLate as it was, on our return we went to see dear old Joeli Mbulu, the\nnoble old Tongan minister of whom I have often spoken to you. Alas! his\nwork is wellnigh finished. He is greatly changed this week\u2014wasted to\na shadow; but his face is perhaps more beautiful than ever, from its\nsweetness of expression and the bright look which at times lights it\nup,\u2014just like some grand old apostle nearing his rest. He is very tall\nand stately, with a halo of white hair and long grey beard. His skin is\nvery fair, like that of all the Tongans and Samoans. Generally he wears\nonly his long white waist-cloth, almost to the feet, which are bare, and\nfolds of native cloth round his loins. He has been a Christian teacher in\nFiji for the last thirty years\u2014that is, from the beginning\u2014amid noise and\ntumult of war, and in the thick of all the devilry of cannibalism. He has\nbeen the old king\u2019s special teacher,\u2014and many a difficult day he has had\nwith him and all his handsome, strong-willed sons and daughters. They are\nall very much attached to him; and some of them are generally with him\nnow, fanning or just watching beside him.\n\nThere is no doubt that his magnificent physical development has tended to\nincrease his ascendancy over a race which naturally looks up to one whose\nstature at once proclaims him to be _tamata ndina_ (a man indeed). That\nsuch he is, is testified by the deep scars on one arm, which tell of such\na triumph, and such power of endurance, as no Fijian living can boast of.\n\nMany years ago, he had a dream about an encounter with a shark. This so\nhaunted him, that for many days he refused to swim, as was his wont, in\nthe deep water near the mouth of the river. At length, yielding to the\npersuasions of other bold swimmers, he ventured in, and was far ahead of\nhis companions, when suddenly he beheld the monster of his dream coming\nstraight towards him. There was not a moment for hesitation. As the\ncruel jaws opened, he plunged his arm down the throat of the shark, and,\ngrasping its tongue by the root, held it firmly, while with the other arm\nhe swam towards the shore, dragging the brute after him. As he reached\nthe bank he fell down in a dead faint from exhaustion and loss of blood;\nbut his wounds were speedily dressed, and the arm recovered almost all\nits power.\n\n * * * * *\n\n BAU, _May 6, 1877_.\n\nThe Samoan party returned last Thursday, much pleased with all they\nhave seen. Next day the annual \u201cmissionary meeting\u201d was held here,\nwhen, as you know, the people of the district assemble to bring their\ncontributions for the support of the mission, and each village exhibits\nits favourite dance. On this occasion, one descriptive of catching a\nhundred fish had been specially ordered for the amusement of the Samoans,\nand was particularly good, as was also a fan dance. Then the ladies\nof Bau, headed by the old queen and her daughter, and all the young\nladies of noble birth, sang a very fine _m\u00e9k\u00e9_, with appropriate stately\ngestures; and very well they looked,\u2014all alike wearing the little white\njacket, with low neck and short sleeves, and a fringe of bright yellow\nbanana-leaf, torn into strips, round the waist, over their skirts of\nnative cloth.\n\nAs a study of colour, I specially noted one stalwart fellow wearing a\ngarland of these golden leaves thrown over his madder-brown shoulders,\nand a gauzy film of sienna-coloured smoked _tappa_ over his hair, and\nfolds of creamy-brown _tappa_ round the waist. He stood in relief against\na clear blue sky\u2014a study for an artist.\n\nOn the following day, the Vuni Valu had ordered the people of four towns\non the mainland to come over and perform a great _m\u00e9k\u00e9_ in honour of his\nguests, assembling as usual on the _rara_\u2014_i.e._, the village green. They\ncame, very elaborately dressed. First two hundred marched up, one hundred\nbringing rolled-up mats, and one hundred bearing _taro_, to be laid as\nofferings at the strangers\u2019 feet. Other dancers brought sugar-canes and\ndivers gifts. The first two hundred then stood up in double line facing\nus, one line constantly advancing and retreating under the arms of the\nothers. This was exceedingly graceful. Their dress was almost uniform,\nmost having very handsome large neck ornaments of carved shell. The\nmeasured hand-clapping was so regular that it sounded like one pair of\nhands each time.\n\nThen came a second company, bearing gifts of yams and pottery, which\nthey added to the first heap. They also performed a very graceful dance\nlike an elaborate ballet. This done, Thakombau formally presented the\nproperty to the Samoans, whose principal attendants proceeded to _count\nthe amount given_, and return thanks for so many articles. Then two of\nthe party arose (they were all dressed in kilts of rich brown native\ncloth, with necklaces of large red berries and green leaves). These\ntwo then performed an extraordinary dance, which greatly astonished the\nFijians. They capered wildly round and round the _rara_ like a pair of\nspinning-tops, twirling a club round their head, and springing into the\nair in most wonderful style,\u2014throwing the club up and catching it again.\nThe Vuni Valu, who was looking on with intense interest, recognised this\nceremony as an ancient Fijian form of accepting an offering.\n\nThese Samoans are very handsome men, and their skin is a clear olive\ncolour. In dancing so energetically, their kilts of native cloth very\nnaturally became disarranged, and revealed complete knee-breeches of the\nmost elaborate close tattooing. I wonder whether the _woad_ of our own\nancestors was as artistically put on!\n\nThey then proceeded to touch each offering, and next touched the crown of\ntheir head in token of acceptance. One of their party now made a speech,\nwhich their interpreter repeated to the Vuni Valu, after which they\ndivided the spoil\u2014apportioning gifts of food to the mission and to each\nhouse of note in Bau, and reserving the mats and pottery as their own\nshare. Of course their daily food is given to them ready cooked.\n\nAfter the dances they came up to tea here, sitting at the table in most\northodox style, and were much amused looking at coloured stereoscopes.\nThey were also delighted because a lady who is staying here played all\nthe liveliest tunes she possibly could induce the harmonium to give\nforth; and they joined in singing \u201cHome, sweet Home,\u201d and similar old\nairs, which seemed familiar to them,\u2014and, moreover, they sang them quite\nin tune, which I cannot say for most Fijians.\n\nIn the evening we were all invited to join the party at the old king\u2019s\nhouse. While waiting our summons we sat in the clear moonlight under\nthe great Mbaka trees among the huge grey stones, which were formerly\nthe foundation of the principal heathen temple, and the scene of many a\nbloody sacrifice. Now all was still and peaceful; for it was the hour of\nevening prayer, and each family was assembled in its own home for a few\nmoments of quiet worship. Close by was the house in which lay dear old\nJoeli, fast passing away from the scene in which he has so steadfastly\nworked to bring about this great change.\n\nAfter a while the old chief sent to fetch us. We found him and his family\nseated on the mats in a semicircle\u2014his guests in another semicircle\nfacing him, and all the retainers crouching round. We were placed on\nmats at the upper end and the great wooden yangona-bowl stood opposite.\nThis night the nectar was to be brewed by the Samoans, and we watched\nwith interest to see wherein their customs in preparing their national\ndrink differed from those of Fiji. In the first place, there were no\nsongs during the process of chewing, which I regretted, as I delight in\nthe wild measured chants which invariably accompany the yangona-brewing\nof Fiji, where there are special songs and distinct varieties of\nhand-clapping for each stage of the proceeding. Here, too, no woman\ntouches the bowl.\n\nThe Samoan girls not only helped in chewing, but one of them strained\nthe mixture in the great wooden bowl through the hybiscus fibre, and\nmost gracefully she did it. She had put off her heavy necklace of large\nscarlet berries, and wore only a white _sulu_ with fringe of green\nleaves, and a scarlet hybiscus in her rich sienna hair. It was a pretty\npicture. But the old king could scarcely conceal his contempt at the idea\nof seeing a woman deputed to such an office. It was not _vaka Viti_,\nhe said\u2014that is, not according to Fijian custom. A Samoan attendant,\nwearing only a _liku_, or kilt fringe of green leaves, carried round the\ncocoa-nut cup which the girl filled for each drinker, while a herald\nproclaimed the name of each in his social order. The name of a very high\nchief was whispered almost inaudibly, while that of his messenger was\nshouted. There was none of the measured hand-clapping so essential in\nFiji while a chief is drinking, and when he has finished. In Samoa only\nthe drinker himself claps his hands on returning the cup, which he hands\nback, instead of skimming it across the mat, _vaka Viti_.\n\nThe chiefs had already held a great discussion on the state of affairs\nin their respective countries, and their inability to protect themselves\nagainst the wicked machinations of scheming white men of all nations,\nwithout the aid of some civilised Government. Much to our satisfaction,\ntherefore, the old king, weary of talking business, asked the Samoans to\nlet him see one of their dances. They at once consented; and, remarking\nthat the highest chief was the best dancer, four of them agreed to dance,\nwhile the others sang and played a sort of accompaniment by clapping\nhands. At first the four sat on the ground, going through violent action\nof the arms, and hand-clapping all over their own bodies. They then\nsprang to their feet and danced a sort of wild Highland fling. Finally,\nthey made most hideous faces at one another, and we agreed it must be a\nfragment of some old devil-dance. Afterwards they showed us a quieter\ndance, but it was utterly lacking in the grace of the Fijian _m\u00e9k\u00e9s_. The\nsongs were very pretty; some reminded me of wild Gaelic airs, and they\nwere sung in perfect tune, with good seconds.\n\nIt was nearly midnight when we left the old king\u2019s house; and hearing\nthat a canoe had arrived from Levuka, we went to the Roko\u2019s house to get\nour letters. Lady Gordon had sent a parcel of jujubes and acid drops for\ndear old Joeli, which we took to him. The noble face lighted up as we\nentered, and he greeted us as was his wont\u2014with holy and loving words. He\nwas perfectly calm, and the grand steadfast mind clear as ever; but it is\nevident that he is nearing his rest.\n\nTo-day it is very hot; there is not a breath stirring. The sea is\nperfectly calm, and reflects every delicate cloud and distant isle. A\ncanoe starts at daybreak, and will take this letter. So good-bye.\n\n * * * * *\n\n BAU, _May 7, 1877_.\n\nLast night there was great wailing and lamentation in Bau, for soon after\nmidnight Joeli passed away, and died nobly as he had lived. He was quite\nconscious to the very last, and the expression of the grand old face\nwas simply beautiful\u2014so radiant, as of one without a shadow of doubt\nconcerning the Home he was so near. No man ever more truly earned the\nright to say, \u201cI have fought a good fight\u2014I have kept the faith;\u201d and\nnone ever was more truly humble. If ever the crown of righteousness is\nawarded by a righteous Judge to His true and faithful servants, assuredly\nJoeli will not fail to stand in that blessed company.\n\nThis morning we went to look once more on the face we all loved so\ntruly. He looked grand in death as in life, lying on a square of rich\nblack-brown _tappa_, his head pillowed on a large roll of native cloth,\nhis beautiful white hair thrown back as a halo, and his long white\nbeard adding to his patriarchal beauty. Over his feet were thrown\ntwo beautifully fine Samoan mats. His poor widow Ekkesa, his pretty\ngrand-daughter, and many other women, and students from the college,\nwere all weeping bitterly, as those who had lost their wise and loving\ncounsellor and guide. The king and all his family also mourn sorely, for\nJoeli has ever been their true and faithful friend and minister; and\nmany a time has he vainly pleaded with the old chief in the long years\nere he could be brought to abandon the vile customs of heathenism. All\nthrough Joeli\u2019s illness I have rarely entered the house without finding\nsome member of Thakombau\u2019s family sitting by him, watching his sleep, or\nfanning him.\n\nAccording to native custom, the costly Samoan mats and native cloth that\nlay beneath him and over his feet were buried with him; and had the\nfuneral been simply _vaka Viti_, the body should only have been wrapped\nin many Fijian mats. But Thakombau, anxious to do all honour to his old\nfriend, wished that he should be buried in a coffin. So as there chanced\nto be a half-caste carpenter on the island building a boat, he made a\ncoffin with some planks of red cedar wood. He did not get the order till\n10 A.M., and the funeral was to start at 3 P.M. Just an hour beforehand\nit was brought to the mission to be lined and covered, in which work I\nassisted, and so gained my first experience of undertaker\u2019s business.\n\nThe place of burial was a beautiful site near an old church on the\nneighbouring isle of Viwa. The funeral procession was a very touching\none. One large canoe carried the dead and the chief mourners. The old\nking and his three stalwart sons and two daughters, as also Andi Eleanor,\nTui Thakow\u2019s real wife, followed in others; and nearly all the people\nof Bau, and from many neighbouring villages, came in canoes and boats,\nmaking a very great procession. All the principal mourners, including\nthe royal family, wore a piece of coarse old matting, all frayed out,\nin token of mourning. It is worn round the waist, over the ordinary\ndress. We made a beautiful great wreath of white jessamine and blue-grey\nflowers, with an outer wreath of scarlet leaves, and this we laid on the\ncoffin. The grave was upwards of a mile from the shore; and about twenty\nyoung teachers\u2014fine young fellows\u2014took it by turns to carry the coffin up\na steep hill, and through green forest-glades, to the place of rest. Part\nof our beautiful funeral service was repeated in the rich Fijian tongue\n(which to my ear always resembles Italian); and then Joeli was laid\nbeside his old friend and teacher, the Rev. John Hunt, one of the early\nWesleyan missionaries, with whom he had shared many an anxious day, and\nwho died here in 1848, at the early age of thirty-six.\n\nI told you about Mr Hunt commencing the mission at Somo Somo. For the\nlast six years of his busy life of earnest work he lived chiefly on this\nisland, where he had established his printing-press; and in the intervals\nof travelling from isle to isle, in danger, storm, and privation\u2014teaching\nthe people and superintending the schools\u2014he found time to train a large\nnumber of native agents, and also to produce and print an admirable\ntranslation of the New Testament. If you think of the amount of labour\nrepresented in acquiring so very elaborate a language by ear, reducing it\nto writing, and then translating and printing so large a book, with such\nrude appliances, and so little help, you will surely conclude that this\nof itself would have been no light work for one man to undertake. So it\nwas no wonder that this over-willing spirit should have outworn the frail\nbody.\n\nHe had his reward in seeing a marvellous change pass over his cannibal\nneighbours at Viwa. Here (where, five years before, one of the most\nhorribly treacherous massacres which ever disgraced Fiji had been\nperpetrated, and the bodies of upwards of a hundred poor fishermen\ndeliberately murdered for the ovens of Bau, lay strewn all round the\nmission premises, where Mr Cross and his family, with the native\nteachers, had assembled, horror-stricken, but utterly powerless to stay\nthe butchery), Mr Hunt records the story of a general awakening, before\nwhich all such revival meetings as we have heard of elsewhere seem pale\nand colourless. He had instituted special prayer-meetings (penitent\nmeetings they were called) on Saturday evenings, and was struck by the\nexceeding earnestness which seemed to prevail amongst all present. This\nwas the commencement of a series of meetings held night and morning in\nalmost every house, when, like the men of Nineveh of old, these people,\nwith one accord, humbled themselves in the dust, crying for mercy, with\none heart and one voice. These fierce murderers and cannibals seemed\nsuddenly to realise the awfulness of their guilt, and were overwhelmed\nby the sense of their own wickedness. In deepest contrition they knelt\nbefore the God of the Christians, weeping and wailing piteously, pleading\nfor forgiveness, and continuing in such agony of prayer that many of\nthese men\u2014some of them the worst cannibals in Fiji\u2014fainted from sheer\nexhaustion, and no sooner recovered consciousness than they again began\nto agonise in prayer till they again became insensible. They had to be\nliterally forced to take necessary food. Those who heard their cry noted\nits strong earnest sense. They simply bewailed their past wickedness,\nand implored God\u2019s mercy. This continued for several days, during which\nbusiness, sleep, and food were almost entirely neglected. But the cry\nof the people was heard and answered, and soon a strange new peace\u2014the\npeace that passeth understanding\u2014seemed to pervade the isle. The people\nthat had hitherto sat in darkness now saw a great light, and those who\nhitherto had been noted only for their evil deeds now became gentle and\nteachable, and began to lead simple, consistent, Christian lives. Truly,\nif such a change as this were the sole result wrought by the mission, the\nlives of Cross, Hunt, Hazlewood, Polglaze, and Baker were not laid down\nin vain, when one by one they died at their posts from sheer over-work.\nAt least the first four did so. Mr Baker was murdered, as I mentioned in\nwriting from Viti Levu.\n\nWe lingered on the beautiful and now peaceful isle of Viwa for some\nhours, and then returned through the forest and over the star-lit sea,\nand so back to the landing-place, at which Joeli had so often met and\nwelcomed us; and up the steep steps leading to the mission, past the site\nof the horrid ovens, where he had so often stood to rebuke the cruel\nrites that were there enacted. Altogether it has been a very sad day,\nand the funeral was one of the most pathetic and touching scenes you can\nimagine.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NASOVA, _May 9, 1877_.\n\nYesterday morning I started very early with Mr Langham to visit Moturiki,\na rich beautiful island with lovely foliage. Our destination was a\nvillage called Niu Mbasanga, meaning the \u201ctwo-headed cocoa-nut,\u201d which\nwe there saw, and which is quite as great a deformity and wonder as a\ntwo-headed giant would be. I have only heard of one other palm-tree which\nhas indulged in any freak of growth: that other is on the isle of Ngau,\nwhere five stems are said to spring from one root.\n\nWe found the people of seven villages assembled for their annual\n\u201cmissionary meeting.\u201d There was the usual conference with the teachers\nabout church matters, and the usual festive manner of presenting the\nannual offerings for the mission, the people adorned with the accustomed\ngay wreaths of bright leaves, and dancing joyously as is their wont. They\nlooked happy and picturesque. The dances were excellent, and very varied.\nEven now, I constantly see something new to me. Yesterday most of the\ndancers carried huge fans, and were dressed in floating folds of native\ncloth, with kilt fringe of many-coloured ribbons of _pandanus_-leaf,\nalso floating lightly round them. You cannot think how strange it is\nto see all the action and grouping of most admirable ballets, with the\nsurroundings of a Fijian village\u2014thatched houses, fine old trees, palms,\na few big pigs and a multitude of little pigs roaming at large, and\ncrowds of gentlest savages looking on. We rested at the house of Ratu\nBen, a good-looking chief, who urged us to remain; but we were obliged\nto push on, and sleep at a village further along the coast, as it was\nnecessary to cross the only passage through the reef at high tide, which\nwas at midnight. It was sunset ere we could leave the first village, and\nof course we were not expected at the next; but the people soon turned\nout to meet us, and made torches of dry cocoa-palm leaves to light us\nthrough the wood. This is always a pretty sight, as the red gleams fall\non great plantain or palm leaves, and ferns of every size and shape. As\nusual, we took possession of one end of the teacher\u2019s house, and the\nstudent-boatmen and their friends had mats at the other end. Early this\nmorning we explored the village, which is pretty, and overshadowed by\ngreat _eevie_ trees. Then we walked a mile along the shore to the boat,\nand started to row and sail by turns, keeping inside the main reef all\nthe way. It was a lovely day for a sail, but it was only occasionally\nthat we could venture to hoist one, as the beautiful, but horribly\ndangerous, coral-patches are very numerous. How you would enjoy such an\nexpedition, looking down at the endless wonders of the corals, and fishes\nof all hues; and all this as you glide along in perfectly smooth water,\ninside the great reef, where the white breakers form a wall of dazzling\nsurf\u2014and how they do boom and roar!\n\nWe got here at noon, and found all well, except Sir Arthur, who is laid\nup with a very painful knee: this is particularly awkward just now, as\nthe Samoan party have arrived, and have to be formally received. There\nis to be a great Fijian _m\u00e9k\u00e9_ in their honour; and the native soldiers\nare now hard at work practising their dances on the green, which greatly\ndistracts my attention, as I cannot resist watching them.\n\nThe house has just been rethatched, so it is full of caterpillars;\nbut as there are no biting creatures in all Fiji (except mosquitoes\nand sand-flies, and a rare centipede), we do not mind the innocent\ncaterpillars. But the thatchers have destroyed all the beautiful festoons\nof climbing plants which we had trained so carefully over the pillars and\nverandah before our windows.\n\nThere goes the dressing _lali_\u2014_i.e._, a fine deep-toned wooden\ndrum\u2014which is our Fijian substitute for dressing and dinner gong, so I\nmust stop writing. You cannot think how handsome the dining-room now\nlooks. You know it was built as a council-chamber for the old king. Now\nit is adorned with most artistically-arranged trophies of spears, clubs,\nbowls, and all Fijian art-work, with richly-designed native cloth as\ndrapery. So everything is well in keeping. Good-bye.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NASOVA, _May 25_.\n\nThere has been a wonderful outburst of gaiety, chiefly due to the\npresence of H.M.S. Sapphire, which has given an unwonted impetus to\ncricket-matches, lawn-tennis, canoe-races, yacht-races, and all such\nsmall amusements as the place affords. But the excitement culminated\nyesterday, when, in honour of the Queen\u2019s birthday, Levuka had her first\nrace-meeting!\u2014real races! If only you could see the island, you would\nunderstand the wonder, especially if you recollect that, when we landed\nhere eighteen months ago, Captain Olive and the butcher owned the only\ntwo horses on Ovalau; and Sir Arthur brought out two ponies. As the only\nplace where these could be used was the rough path, about one mile long,\nbetween Nasova and Levuka, and the little break-neck paths leading to\ndifferent private houses, there seemed small reason to import more. It\nhas been done, however, and straightway the Anglo-Saxon colony demanded\na race-course. The question was where it could be made; for it was\ndifficult to find a bit of level ground, large enough even for cricket.\nAt last, however, a place has been found, seven miles down the coast,\nwhere, by going several times round the course, a fair distance may\nbe run. It has been necessary, however, to wage incessant war against\nthe crabs, which perforate the ground in every direction, and make it\nextremely dangerous for horses. Notwithstanding all drawbacks, there were\nhalf a-dozen races, and three or four horses or ponies entered for each.\nThe jockeys had colours; and Levuka\u2019s first races were most amusing, and\nvoted a great success. The race-course in itself was extremely pretty,\nbeing situated on the sea-shore, at the entrance to a fine wooded gorge\nbetween high hills. Nearly a hundred boats, cutters and canoes, had\narrived from Levuka and along the coast; and Europeans and Fijians formed\npicturesque groups beneath the cocoa palms and other trees, while a\ngrand stand had been erected for the _\u00e9lite_. The day was faultless, as\nbeseemed the Queen\u2019s birthday,\u2014and the scene was altogether very pretty,\nand quite a novel experience for Fiji.\n\nOn our way back we went to tea on board the Sapphire, and then there was\na large official dinner here, to about fifty people. To-morrow there is\nto be a regatta of all the boats and cutters belonging to the place, or\nto the ships in harbour, ending with a great native canoe race. It is\nsure to be a very pretty sight. We are to lunch on board H.M.S. Reynard,\nand then go to five o\u2019clock tea on board H.M.S. Sapphire.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _May 30._\n\nLast night Lady Gordon and I went to dine with Mr Mitchell and Mr Eyre,\nwho are living in a purely Fijian house in the native village. They\ngave us excellent soup, made of young _taro_ leaves boiled in sea-water,\nwith the cream of squeezed cocoa-nut, prawns boiled and curried with\ncocoa-nut, pigeons, Fiji puddings, and yams and _taro_ served on banana\nleaves.\n\nAfterwards we sat at the door, watching the full moon rise from the\nsea, framed by groups of palm-trees; then we walked up to the quiet\nlittle cemetery on the hill, where the reedy grasses, shivering in the\nnight-wind, seemed like spirit voices, whispering of those who there rest\nin peace.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _June 1._\n\nYesterday we dined on board H.M.S. Sapphire. It savoured of Fiji, that on\ngoing down to the pier we found it under repair, and we had to climb down\nto the boat as best we could. Lady Gordon was carried in her chair to\nanother pier at some distance, to find that also under repair; so she had\nto climb down after all, and of course we were unpunctual in consequence.\nThe dinner was most _r\u00e9cherch\u00e9_ (larks stuffed with truffles, &c.), and\nperfect in every detail, as are also Captain Murray\u2019s lovely cabins. As\nwe rowed back by moonlight the ship burnt blue lights, displaying herself\nto great advantage.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _June 22, 1877._\n\nThis morning I went with Baron von H\u00fcgel to breakfast on board the\nmission brig, John Wesley, with the Rev. \u2014\u2014 and Mrs Brown, who are\njust about to sail for New Britain, taking with them a party of Fijian\nteachers to reinforce those already settled there. This mission to New\nBritain and New Zealand is purely Fijian\u2014Mr Brown being the only white\nman connected with it. At the present moment, when the colonisation of\nNew Guinea is a subject under so much discussion, and the desperate\ncharacter of its cannibal people acknowledged to be an obstacle which\neven the thirst for gold does not make men willing to face, it certainly\nis interesting to know that from Fiji (which has itself so recently\nreceived the light of Christianity) has gone forth the first effort which\nsooner or later will inevitably result in the civilising of these wild\ntribes; and, to look at it from a mercantile point of view, will open the\ndoor first to traders, and then to permanent settlers.\n\nIt was, I think, in June 1875 that the idea of this mission was first\nsuggested; and that Mr Brown, after fully explaining to all the native\nteachers the imminent dangers it involved, asked if there were any\namong them who would volunteer for the work. The response was most\ncordial; and nine brave determined men (seven of whom were married, and\ntheir wives true helpmeets in this great work) announced their wish to\nundertake it. On hearing of this, the English Consul considered it his\nduty to summon these teachers, and lay before them, in glowing colours,\nthe dangers they were about to incur from climate and cannibals, and the\nalmost inevitable fate that awaited them should they persist in their\nrash determination.\n\nThey replied that they had counted the cost, and were ready to accept all\nrisks. One acting as spokesman for all, said: \u201cWe are all of one mind.\nWe know what those islands are. We have given ourselves to this work. If\nwe get killed, well; if we live, well. We have had everything explained\nto us, and know the danger. We are willing to go.\u201d They added that all\ndangers had been fully set before them by the missionaries, and that they\nhad determined to go, because of their own wish to make known the Gospel\nof Christ to the people of other isles. Throughout the Fijian Isles the\nnative teachers receive a salary of \u00a310 a-year, and are supplied with\nfood by their scholars. These men resigned all claim to any definite\nsalary. They gave themselves as volunteers, without even the certainty of\ndaily bread, resolved to face whatever hardships might lie before them.\n\nWith something more than the zeal of the early saints (for we never\nhear that they went to live amongst cannibals), this band of brave men\nset sail in this same mission-brig, the John Wesley.[57] Mr Brown had\nleft his wife and children in New Zealand; and I doubt if he was able\nto communicate once with them during the two years of his absence. He\nhas now returned to announce that the mission is fairly established. He\nhas been to New Zealand to see his family; and his wife, being a brave\nlittle woman, and of one mind with her husband, has resolved to return\nwith him. So they have placed their elder children at school, and are\ntaking only one baby with them; and now they have returned to Fiji to\nenlist fresh volunteers, and a few days hence they will quietly sail\naway on their errand of mercy. And though their departure from here will\nhardly excite a passing comment, there is small doubt that their work\nwill leave an enduring mark on the future history of the Pacific Isles.\nMr Brown gave us many most interesting details of all he had seen in New\nBritain, and of the country and people\u2014none of which I have time to tell\nyou, as the mail closes to-day. Good-bye.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NASOVA, _June 25, 1877_.\n\nDEAR JEAN,\u2014I have just returned from a pleasant three days\u2019 expedition\nto the island of Wakaya, which is so near here that the wonder is why we\nhave not been there long ago. It is the property of the late American\nConsul, Dr Brewer, and is one of the best examples of a fairly prosperous\nestate. Dr Brewer having most kindly placed his comfortable house at our\ndisposal for some days, Captain Stewart, R.E., made arrangements to take\nanother lady and myself across in his little yacht. We had a favouring\nbreeze, and a rough but rapid passage, and arrived in such good time\nthat we were able to start at once to climb a rocky hill, on the summit\nof which formerly stood a fortified town, which is the chief point of\nhistoric interest on the isle. For there was a deadly feud between\nthe people of Wakaya and those of Ovalau, which resulted in the total\nextermination of the former, who finally took refuge in this stronghold,\nuntil, driven to desperation, the chief and his wife together sprang over\nthe cliffs to avoid falling into the hands of their foes.\n\nWe wandered all about the beautiful hills, peering over crags and down\nrichly wooded ravines, and from every fresh point obtained exquisite\nviews of the wide calm Pacific Ocean, dotted with many isles. There were\nten different inhabited isles in sight, including the two very large\nones, and all were bathed in tones of ethereal blue and lilac. As we came\nback through the forest, we gathered huge pods of a monstrous vine. They\nwere from three to four feet long, and resembled gigantic beans.[58]\nI have brought them back to convince all gainsayers of the accurate\nbotanical research displayed in the good old story of Jack and the\nBeanstalk. I mentioned this fact to a midshipman, to whom I have just\npresented one of my beans, but I fear he thought I was making game of him!\n\nThe evening was so lovely that after supper we strolled down to the\nbeach, and sat beside a great bonfire of cocoa-nut shells, the refuse\nof _coppra_ making. The ruddy glare lighted up the tall palm-trees,\nmingling with the white light of the full moon; and the little wavelets\nrippled on the sand, making a pleasant picture. In case you do not know\nwhat _coppra_ is, I may as well explain that it is the kernel of the\ncocoa-nut, which is dried in the sun and thus prepared for exportation to\nthe colonies, where it is subjected to such pressure as to extract the\noil. It forms one of the largest exports from the isles. The shells and\nhusks burn with so fierce a flame that they destroy any oven or machine\nin which they are used as fuel; and though the husk would be valuable for\nmaking fibre, it is not considered to pay sufficiently well to make it\nworth while to import a machine. A rough-and-ready contrivance on a small\nscale has, however, been started here, where a machine for combing out\nthe fibre is turned by the action of two mules, whose lives are spent in\ncontinually walking on a tread-mill. I do not mean to imply that the same\nanimals are incessantly at work!\n\nNext morning Mr Mackay, the overseer (who had already done much for our\nentertainment, having killed the fatted fowl for supper, and shot a\nbeautiful half-tame peacock for our dinner), now put his Mexican saddle\non the donkey, and by turning over a flap, so as to bring both the great\nstirrups on one side, improvised a very good side-saddle, on which we\nrode by turns. We passed over wide extents of deserted cotton-fields,\nformerly under careful cultivation, but abandoned owing to falling\nprices, and the ravages of hurricanes.\n\nOne of the most promising experiments now is coffee-planting. We saw\ncoffee shrubs planted under the shade of cocoa-palms and bread-fruit\ntrees, at an altitude not exceeding seventy to a hundred feet. In both\nthese respects the practice here is at variance with all that I have\nseen in Ceylon; yet this seems to be bearing an excellent crop, and the\nexample is already being followed on several plantations, and seems\nlikely to prove a success.[59]\n\nAt daybreak this morning I got a sketch of the fine old _eevie_ grove,\nand at noon we started on our return, and arrived here in time for five\no\u2019clock tea. H.M.S. Wolverine in harbour.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _July 1, 1877._\n\nThis morning H.M.S. Sapphire sailed for Sydney, taking Captain Olive, who\nreturns to England. He purposes, however, to return here and settle as a\nplanter, and hopes to buy part of Wakaya, the island from which we have\njust returned.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _July 9._\n\nI have had some pleasant expeditions to the reef the last few days,\ncollecting strange beautiful creatures for the children\u2019s aquarium,\nand also for a series of ruder aquariums\u2014buckets and tubs. But it is\nunsatisfactory work, for our loveliest creatures will die; and especially\nwe find that to introduce the smallest bit of beautiful coral is fatal\u2014at\nleast, before it is wholly bleached in the sun. And you cannot think how\ntempting it is to arrange miniature coral gardens of pink, blue, lemon\ncolour, and greenish corals of many different forms, and, if only for one\nday, to watch the many coloured tiny fish playing among it in a great\nglass globe. But this inevitably results in our finding most of them dead\nnext morning, whereas if we omit the coral the exquisite fish live for\nmany days.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _July 14, 1877._\n\nWe have for some days been very anxious about Dr Mayo (who, you will\nremember, came out with us). He has been living chiefly at Khandavu, to\nenforce the quarantine regulations on vessels calling there. A few days\nago he was brought to Levuka suffering very seriously from dysentery, and\nwas carried to the hospital. At first he seemed to improve; but clever\ndoctors are apt to prove bad patients, and the present instance has been\nno exception. He became rapidly worse, and it has been decided that his\nonly chance of recovery lies in immediate change to the colonies; so he\nwas carried on board the Lyeemoon, which sailed for Sydney to-day.[60]\nMr Mitchell also started. He goes to Calcutta to make arrangements about\nproviding coolie labour for Fiji. He hopes to be able to look after Dr\nMayo, but is himself suffering severely from fever. Dr Mayo\u2019s English\nservant came to him from Savu Savu on hearing of his illness, but he made\nhim return at once to take care of his little island, with the unfinished\nhouse and the shrubs, which he has imported with so much care.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _July 20, 1877._\n\nWe have been revelling in the most heavenly weather. But as the\nthermometer has been down to 67\u00b0 Fahr., a thing almost unprecedented in\nthe tropics, of course every creature, white and brown, has got cold,\ncough, influenza, and we are all shivering in our English winter clothes.\nI have been suffering from my very first experience of Fijian sores,\nwhich are the curse of the land. I was on the reef catching the most\nexquisite tiny fish for the aquarium\u2014pale-blue, dark-blue, bright-green,\nbands of black and white, but especially gold, with sky-blue collar\u2014when,\nincautiously slipping my hand under a rock ledge, a horrid great sea-eel,\ncalled the _dabea_, which lives in the coral, darted out and tried to\nswallow my little finger. Happily it failed to bite it off, and I was\nable to drag back my hand, but it bled very much. I came home at once and\nsoaked it in salt and brandy for fear of poison\u2014a painful but efficacious\nremedy. I think the finger is going on all right.\n\nThe wonder to me is that we do not hear of more frequent accidents,\nconsidering the manner in which the unshod natives are for ever walking\non the reef, or swimming round ledges haunted by dangerous biting and\nstinging sea-beasts. The worst accidents I have heard of lately happened\non the isles of Lakemba and Cicia.\n\nAt the former a girl was diving for clam-shells, and seeing a very large\none wide open, she extended her arms intending to encircle it, and so\nattempt to raise it. But missing her aim, she plunged her hand into it,\ninstead of beneath it. In an instant it closed, and she was held prisoner\n(you know a clam is a strong dentated bivalve, sometimes of enormous\nweight). Her companions wondered at her staying below so long, and at\nlast dived in search of her, and found her dead body.\n\nThe other sad accident happened at Cicia, where a girl was on the\ncoral-reef catching crabs and other treasures of the sea, and\nincautiously slipped her hand into a hole in the rock. By no possible\nmeans could she succeed in drawing it out again. Her companions were\nutterly unable to help her, and there the poor girl was kept, while\ngradually the tide rose and closed over her, and she too was drowned.\nImagine the horror of feeling the tide slowly but steadily creeping up,\nand awaiting a certain death.\n\nI hope to see this isle of Cicia (pronounced Thithia) next week, as I\nhave just made arrangements for a visit to the Windward Islands, which\nare the most easterly of the many groups into which the 223 Fijian isles\nnaturally divide themselves. The two chief points of attraction are Loma\nLoma, which is the capital of the great Tongan chief, Maafu, and the isle\nof Mago, which is the pattern plantation of Fiji, and is the exclusive\nproperty of Mr Ryder and his six sons, who all live on the island, and\nthemselves attend to every detail of their own business, with the happy\nresult, that throughout the most troublous times they have never ceased\nto flourish. Every one tells me that my ideas of Fiji will be most\nincomplete till I have seen Mago, and also Nandi, on Viti Levu. So the\nfirst omission is now to be rectified, and the second as soon as occasion\npresents itself. Accordingly next week, when Mr Ryder returns home, I am\nto accompany him, and see various places of interest on the way.\n\nI am sitting under the shadow of a tall group of plantains. Now the sun\nhas set, and I am writing by moonlight, sitting on the grass, which in\nsuch cold weather is scarcely prudent. So good night.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII.\n\n VARIOUS PLANTATIONS\u2014CROTONS\u2014FOREIGN LABOUR\u2014GREEN BEETLES\u2014LOMA\n LOMA\u2014A TONGAN COLONY\u2014HOT SPRINGS.\n\n\n ON BOARD THE BLACK SWAN, _July 28, 1877_.\n\nYou see our fortunes are once more looking up.\n\nWe have a steamer again!\u2014an old tub recently chartered by Government for\nthis interinsular service. We left Levuka two days ago, and ran across\nto the island of Koro, which we did not reach till sunset, so dared not\nrisk going inside the reef to collect produce, and merely lay to, while a\nboat rowed ashore with the letters. By this time there was rather a heavy\nsea on, and before we reached the green shores of Taviuni it was very\nrough indeed. Our party included several of the most successful planters\nof the group, Mr Ryder, Mr Richardson, and Mr M\u2019Evoy. After breakfast\nwe reached Selia Levu, a large sugar and maize plantation belonging to\nMessrs Richardson and Elphinston.\n\nHere we landed, and were most hospitably entertained. The invariable\nblessed hot tea-pot having dissipated a savage headache, born of\nsteamboat, and generally restored life, I was able thoroughly to enjoy\na long walk over the estate, through flourishing fields of sugar and\nmaize, and was duly instructed in the mysteries of the sugar-mills. I had\nalready been initiated into these, when on a visit to Mr Elphinston\u2019s\nsister, Mrs Pillans, at Savu Savu. There was a great quantity of produce\nto be shipped, and for some reason the punt could not be floated, so it\nall had to come off in small boat-loads, which detained us till 10 P.M.\nAfter sunset it rained heavily, which cannot have improved the sugar.[61]\nEarly this morning we passed Vatu Vara, a small lonely island, which is\nthe chosen home of an American, Mr Thompson, and a Tahitian wife. They\nhave adopted several Tongan children, and have only one labour-boy, who\ngoes mad regularly every full moon. Formerly they had three foreign\nlabour-boys, but two of them died of the measles, and have not been\nreplaced. This Robinson Crusoe is said to have considerable capital, so I\nsuppose he really chooses this existence for pleasure!\n\nWe next reached Cicia (pronounced Thithia), where Mr M\u2019Evoy has two\nflourishing properties, eight miles apart. He had a good deal of cargo to\nship, but the weather was so rough that it was as much as he could do to\nunship what he had brought with him. So our time ashore was very much\ncurtailed, which I greatly regret, this being by far the most attractive\nplantation I have seen. Everything is so beautifully kept\u2014so clean and\ntidy in every respect, indoors and out. I have seen nothing like it in\nFiji. It was pleasant to see how delighted all Mr M\u2019Evoy\u2019s men looked\nwhen they saw him return; and he had a pleasant word for each, by name.\nHe had several on board with him, who, having been sent back to Levuka as\ntime-expired labour, had re-engaged themselves to him; and his kindness\nto them during the voyage had already given me a pleasant impression of\nthe relations of master and servant.\n\nThe island is very pretty\u2014high grassy hills and deep valleys, richly\nwooded; a palm-fringed shore, and five Fijian villages. At one end of the\nisle there are high wooded crags. Mr M\u2019Evoy\u2019s own house is at the further\nside of the isle. That where we landed is the home of Mr Borron, the\nScotch overseer. The house, like everything about the place, is a rare\nmodel of cosiness, with its books and pictures, and a lovely nosegay on\nthe table.\n\nEqually marked is the care bestowed on every detail out of doors,\u2014the\ncomfortable quarters provided for the foreign labourers\u2014men and women\nhaving good quarters quite apart, instead of herding together like pigs,\nas they are often compelled to do. Moreover, a comfortable hospital\u2014a\nlarge clean house\u2014is provided for the sick\u2014one for men and another\nfor women\u2014each divided into several wards, with tidy raised beds, and\nstanding apart in a nice cheery garden. I thought of some of the slovenly\ndiscomfort I have seen elsewhere, and marvelled why similar care was not\nmore common. The men and women here, really have a chance of improving\nby contact with the superior race. We went through the cotton-ginning\nestablishment, where, as a matter of course, everything was in apple-pie\norder.\n\nThis estate is chiefly laid out in cotton; but for once the beautiful has\nnot been wholly forgotten in the lucrative. The same good taste, which\nis evident in all details, has planted most rare and valuable crotons\nalong the broad paths which intersect the cotton-fields. These and other\nornamental shrubs are also carefully cultivated in every available\ncorner. Mr Borron himself brought some beautiful crotons from the New\nHebrides, which seem to produce some of the most exquisite varieties of\nthese strange lovely shrubs, which there and in Rotumah attain the size\nof small trees.\n\nI believe some members of this large and very varied family are to be\nfound in each group of the Pacific,\u2014indeed the large silvery-leaved tree\nwith fragrant blossoms, which we know in Fiji as the candle-nut tree,\nforms a prominent feature in the foliage of all the tropical isles I\nknow, including Ceylon. The variety, both of colour and pattern of leaf,\nexhibited by these plants is truly wonderful. In most cases the leaf is\ntough and glossy. In some species it is broad and large, in others a\nmere strip. Sometimes the strip is spiral, and in other cases is divided\nacross the middle so as to form two leaves, connected by a short stem.\nAs concerns colour, the crotons are of every hue that it is possible for\nfoliage to assume. Some are vivid scarlet, some pure crimson, others\nrichest claret colour. Then come all shades of golden-yellow and pale\nprimrose, and every tint of green, from the most delicate to the darkest,\nas well as greens shaded with chocolate or maroon. In short, their beauty\nand variety seem to be without limit, and new specimens are constantly\nbrought from the isles near the equator. Mr Thurston, the Colonial\nSecretary of Fiji, has devoted much care to collecting all the most\nbeautiful kinds, many of which he himself discovered in Rotumah and other\nfar-away isles. His garden at Levuka positively glows with the gorgeous\ncolour of some of these; and from his own most valuable collection he\ngenerously sends ample cuttings to friends and botanists in all parts of\nthe world.\n\nNow we are off the isle of Mago (which you must pronounce Mango), and are\njust going ashore. As seen from the sea, it certainly is very pretty,\nhaving a coast of steep cliffs and dense wood. I believe it differs from\nall other isles in the group, in that the whole centre is one great\nplain, admirably suited for cultivation, which accordingly is here\ncarried to perfection. We have just passed a small isle devoted to grey\nrabbits,[62] and another haunted by flying-foxes.\n\n * * * * *\n\n MAGO, _Saturday Evening_.\n\nWe landed at Moruna,\u2014a pretty bay, with a pleasant house and garden,\nwhich is the home of two of the brothers. Thence a two miles\u2019 muddy walk\ntowards the centre of the isle brought us here to the principal house,\nwhere we were welcomed by Mr and Mrs Ryder, their daughter Amy, and\nthree more sons, all cordial and kind. The sixth son, Mr Thomas Ryder,\nhas lately gone to Sydney with his wife and children, and I am most\ncomfortably ensconced in their nice large room. At the present moment,\nthe youngest son, a bright unaffected young fellow, is himself bringing\nup my luggage in his tiny punt, by some creek which I have as yet failed\nto discover. Tea has just been announced, and the letters must go back to\nthe steamboat. So good-bye for the present.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _Sunday Evening, July 29._\n\nWe have had a pleasant idle day, and have just come in from a long walk,\nwhich has given me a good general idea of the place. The house itself is\nbowered with honeysuckle and roses, and the air is scented with orange\nblossoms from the trees planted near. A hedge of bright scarlet hybiscus\nseparates the garden from the cotton-fields, and its gay blossoms\ndecorate many of the quaint shaggy heads of the foreign labour. Just\nround the house the land is all under cultivation, but there are many\ncharming pieces of natural wood left untouched; and in every available\ncorner, fruit-bearing trees are planted. Lime-trees in abundance,\nbread-fruit and shaddock, date-palm and cocoa-nut, patches of banana and\n_papaw_, and broad fields of maize, yams, _taro_, and sweet potato,\u2014for\nthe multitude which have to be daily fed is very great, and the island\ndepends upon its own produce. Whether the date-palm will bear fruit in\nthis latitude is a question as yet unsolved; but a considerable number\nof young trees have been raised, and promise well. Coffee also thrives;\nand even the cotton-fields of Mago flourish as of old. Indeed among all\nthe vicissitudes that have so sorely depressed and temporarily ruined\ntrade in Fiji, this plantation has been uniformly prosperous,\u2014a condition\nascribed chiefly to the exceeding care bestowed on it by its large family\nof owners.[63]\n\nIn the course of our walk we passed over a good deal of grassy land,\nfragrant with lilac orchids, not unlike those of England. Then we\nwandered up a sheltered valley, planted entirely with fine bread-fruit\ntrees. It is enclosed by high wooded cliffs, and is a delightfully shady\nretreat from the heat of the noonday sun. Here we explored a cave in\nwhich the natives used to conceal their dead, and near it was a favourite\nspot for cannibal feasts in olden days.\n\nThis isle of Mago was formerly tributary to Somo Somo, the chiefs and\npeople of which, as I have already told you, were noted throughout Fiji\nfor their exceeding ferocity. When Christianity first began to make\nprogress among the inhabitants of Mago, they were subjected to fierce\npersecution for their faith, as were also the people of the great isle\nof Vanua Mbalavu (the Long Land), which we see from here. As usual,\nhowever, the converts stood firm, and their numbers rapidly increased,\nnotwithstanding the cruelty of the Somo Somo chiefs.\n\nNow Maafu, the Tongan chief, reigns supreme at Loma Loma, the capital\nof Vanua Mbalavu (though now, of course, subject to England); and Mago\nbelongs exclusively to the Messrs Ryder, the chiefs having agreed to\nsell the whole island, and remove the population bodily. Consequently no\nFijians now remain here, and the island is worked by about 300 foreign\nlabour\u2014wild-looking men, gathered from all the most uncivilised groups\nnear the Equator\u2014the Tokalau, Marshall, and Gilbert Isles, Solomon Isles,\nTanna, New Hebrides, and many another far-away home\u2014the most motley\ngroup you can conceive, but many of them intelligent and hard-working.\nIn apportioning their quarters, the different nations seem to keep quite\nseparate, and a certain number have wives and families.\n\nThey stop work early on Saturday, and are allowed perfect liberty to\nspend the afternoon and the whole of Sunday as they please. They have\nfree leave to roam all over the island in search of game, or to take out\nthe canoes and fish on the reef. Of course they do not fail to avail\nthemselves of so good an opportunity of adding to their rations, to say\nnothing of indulging their natural love of sport. There is an immense\nnumber of wild pigs on this isle, the descendants of imported pigs which\nhave run wild in the bush. So a regular hunt is organised every Sunday\nmorning, and to-day the sportsmen returned in triumph, having bagged\nthirty pigs, and they are now preparing a grand feast.\n\nI have been inquiring as to the truth of stories we have heard of the\nway in which the men of the New Hebrides catch sharks. I am told it is\nstrictly true\u2014that they actually dive below the shark, and, in so doing,\nslip a noose round its tail, then rising to the surface, haul it ashore\nby main force. Certainly these men are almost as much at home in the sea\nas on land.\n\n * * * * *\n\n MAGO, _August 3_.\n\nWe have had several days of incessant rain, and all the lowlands are\nflooded. At last this morning it cleared just a little, and I determined\nto secure a sketch of the lovely little inner harbour, which is so\ncuriously enclosed by two encircling arms of wooded cliff, that there\nis literally only just room for a boat to sail in. Once inside, there\nshe lies safe in the wildest storms, with water four fathoms deep\u2014the\nsnuggest berth you can possibly conceive, and a quiet refuge for a\nmultitude of wild duck, which find safe breeding-ground in the mangroves\nwhich fringe the shore, and the roots of which form an oyster-bed. One\nof the theories concerning this curious island (which is shaped somewhat\nlike a flat dish, with a high rim of coralline rocks enclosing the level\narable lands), is, that it was originally an _atoll_\u2014that is, a coral\nring enclosing a sea-lake\u2014and that the whole having been upheaved by\nvolcanic action, the waters of the lagoon burst this narrow passage\nthrough the encircling rock, and so drained the central plateau. Looking\ndown on the scene from any high point, this theory very naturally\nsuggests itself, and is further supported by the presence of crags of the\nhardest igneous rock, which appear to have been forced up through the\noriginal coral.\n\nAs a desirable sketching-ground, I had noted a high point on the wooded\ncrag above the bay, from which I was certain the view must be splendid.\nThe difficulty was to reach it. However, two of my hosts agreed to escort\nme, and took with them two New Hebrides men, who helped to clear a track,\nand open up the view, which was most lovely, overlooking not only the\nblue harbour, with its setting of rich foliage and crag, but the coral\nreefs beyond it, and the far-away land of Loma Loma. I contrived to\nperch on a very uncomfortable rock, made up of hard spikes, and secured\nmy drawing, while my companions went beating about the rocks till they\nstarted a wild sow with five young ones. The New Hebrides men gave chase;\nthey caught two little pigs alive, and carried them home rejoicing. One\nof these men has his hair dressed in a series of hard round balls the\nsize of a large orange, which look just as if he had plastered them with\npitch; while on the crown of the head the hair stands up in a wild fuzz,\nin which he wears a long wooden comb.\n\nAs we were coming down the hill, we came on a marvellous swarm of\nmetallic blue-and-green beetles, with heads and underside golden,\u2014just\nthe same insect as our ladybirds. I have found these in all corners\nof the earth, and in every variety of colour, but nowhere have I seen\nanything in the slightest degree resembling this swarm. The beetles hung\nin dense clusters on palm-fronds and stems, on the vines hanging from\ntree to tree, and on both sides of every leaf, so that not one atom of\ngreen could be seen. The palm-trees seemed dressed in coats of mail of\nshining blue steel; and the vines were like solid ropes of emeralds and\nsapphires, with golden setting, the gold being the head of the ladybird.\nThere must have been many millions of these living gems, for they covered\na space of nearly half an acre in the forest, which truly suggested some\nwonderful tale of fairyland, with real fairy jewel-trees, where, instead\nof stupid dead minerals, the gems are all alive, ready to fly away from\ncovetous human touch. They were in such dense masses that the shrubs were\nquite weighed down by them, and when we shook a bough to make them fly\noff, it sprang up quite light. They did not seem to be doing any harm.\nCertainly it was a very pretty glimpse of fairyland. I have brought down\na number of the living sapphires, hoping to preserve them, alive or dead.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _August 12._\n\nIt has gone on raining almost without intermission, and everything is\ndamp and mildewed. The fresh supply of new drawing-paper I got just\nbefore starting is one mass of mildew. The clothes hanging up on pegs\nfeel quite clammy: even the handle of my umbrella is covered with green\nmould. We cannot go one step out of the verandah without picking up\npounds of mud on our feet. I am told that for the last three months there\nhas been literally no rain, and loads of fruit of all sorts. Now there is\nno fruit, but any amount of rain; so I am unlucky. But we are very cosy\nand happy indoors, and my only regret is not being able to explore the\nmany pretty spots on the isle.\n\nI managed to get back to the gem-mine in the enchanted forest. There\nI found the fairy jewels as thick as before, still clustered in dense\nswarms on every leaf and stem. On the same hill I found four kinds\nof land-snails, two of which are new to me. Two of my hosts are keen\nnaturalists, and have shown me many things of interest\u2014animate and\ninanimate. All the brethren are as busy as bees from morning till night,\npersonally overseeing the work of their 300 men. No wonder their estate\nprospers.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _August 18._\n\nAt last the clouds have relented, and we have had several days of\nglorious weather. I have been taken to see and to sketch magnificent old\nFiji banyan-trees, on cliffs and in the heart of the forest. And one\nevening there was a muster of the foreign labour for my benefit. We went\nto their quarters to see them all dance and make merry. Most of them\nare hideous, and their dances are strange and uncouth\u2014utterly devoid of\ngrace. Certainly, from an \u00e6sthetic point of view, these races are as\ninferior to those of Fiji, Tonga, and Samoa, as the Australian blacks are\nto the noble Maoris of New Zealand.\n\nOf course the poverty which induced these people to forsake their own\nhomes, and accept a lot of exile and servitude, accounts for their\npossessing few or no articles of personal adornment; but I noticed one\nwoman from Tanna who had her ears literally covered with tortoise-shell\near-rings\u2014some passed through the others like links, so that she carried\nfully twenty on each ear. Others had large metal ear-rings, apparently of\nlead, and of such weight as to drag down the lobe of the ear to a length\nof several inches. Some women\u2019s ears were actually torn in two by this\nweight, and the flesh hung in strips\u2014a painful sacrifice to fashion.\n\nMany, both men and women, had devoted great care to their hair-dressing,\nwhich was grotesque in the extreme. My especial friend, whose hair was\ndressed like balls plastered with pitch, seemed nowise remarkable among\nhis quaint neighbours\u2014some of whom had elaborate twists and plaits and\nrolls, though others left their wild, unkempt shock-heads as rough as\nuncombed, unbrushed nature could make them.\n\nFor many days past we have been waiting and watching for the chance of\nsome means of getting to Vanua Mbalavu, the long blue island which lies\non the horizon; but the weather has been so stormy that we have not seen\na sail, and almost despair of doing so. It would be rather a _fiasco_ to\nreturn to Nasova without having seen Loma Loma; but at present it seems\nlikely to be my fate, as the monthly steamer will call here in a few days\non her way from Loma Loma to Levuka.\n\n * * * * *\n\n DALI DONI, VANUA, MBALAVU, _August 21_.\n\nThis morning was very rainy and blowy. To our amazement, just after\nbreakfast, a gentleman walked in, having come up from Moruna to say\nthat Mr Hennings had come across from Loma Loma in his little schooner\nto fetch Miss Ryder and myself. There was no option of delay on account\nof wind or rain; so we packed at once, and a detachment of foreign\nlabour came up to carry our luggage over the steep muddy hill which\nlay between us and the anchorage. We found it sufficiently hard work\nto carry ourselves, so slippery was the ground. The strong gale was in\nour favour, and the little vessel flew before the wind. Less than two\nhours carried us from reef to reef, over a distance which often takes\nmany hours, sometimes days. So now we have reached the long island; the\nlittle schooner is safely anchored inside the reef, and we are spending a\nnight at this very pretty place\u2014the property of Mr Levick, whose married\noverseer has given us hospitable welcome.\n\n * * * * *\n\n LOMA LOMA, _August 24, 1877_.\n\nWe left Dali Doni at daybreak, and sailed to Mbalavu, where Mr Hennings\nhas an estate. Here we climbed a steep hill, passing through much\nluxuriant forest, and some patches of cultivation. From the summit we\nhad a most lovely view of the harbour, which is quite unique, from the\nmultitude of little rocky isles which dot its surface, all densely\nwooded. But so strongly has the ceaseless wash of the tide marked its\nlevel, that it is vain to land on any of these, as the overhanging ledge\nof rock makes it impossible to ascend at any point. We halted at this\nbeautiful spot long enough to allow me to make a careful drawing of\nthe scene, and then went on to the house of the overseer, where a fine\nroast turkey awaited us for luncheon. Then down another steep hill, to\nthe beautiful blue sea, of which we caught glimpses, framed by great\nforest-trees and vines. Here lay the little vessel, with white sails\nflapping. She had sailed round from the other side of the island, but\nthe wind had fallen, and ere we reached her she was becalmed. So we took\nthe small boat and rowed through a most lovely bay, past richly wooded\nislands and steep rocky headlands, till we came to the plantation of Mr\nVecsey, a Hungarian, married to a handsome Tongan woman, with two pretty,\nmerry children. Here we were most hospitably entertained; but according\nto custom, the native wife would not sit at table with us, but waited\nnear, and attended to our wants.\n\nIn the bright early morning we started to explore the neighbourhood, and\nwhen the sun rose high we followed a clear streamlet overshadowed by dark\n_eevie_ trees, and inhabited by thousands of spiral black shells two\ninches long, with a very sharp point. I had seen these in collections,\nbut always with the point broken off, and had heard it gravely asserted\nthat this particular shell had always an obtuse end. So it was rather\na triumph to find all these, and I carried off a number. On the sunny\nstreamlet floated the fragrant white blossoms of the shaddock, whose\nboughs, fruit-laden, overhung the water. We gathered branches of the\nsweet blossoms, and feasted on the huge orange-like fruit\u2014which, however,\nis of very uncertain excellence, some trees bearing juicy and delicious\nfruit, while others are very dry, with a flavour of turpentine.\n\nAfter breakfast (at which we had a capital broth of shellfish, something\nlike cockles, boiled with rice) we once more embarked with a light\nbreeze, and in the afternoon arrived here. This town, which is spoken of\nthroughout the group as the pattern of order and neatness, is true to\nits reputation. It is a large, very clean, and tidy village of thatched\nhouses. Slight peculiarities, such as the gable ends being round instead\nof flat, at once prove them to be the homes of Tongans\u2014_i.e._, colonists\nfrom the Friendly Isles.\n\nWe were most kindly welcomed by Mr and Mrs Levick to a home, not only\ncomfortable, but with all the graces of ornamental civilisation. In the\nevening we wandered along the shore in the moonlight, and turned aside to\nsee the Botanic Garden, which is under the especial care of our host, and\nwhere the collection of crotons is particularly good.\n\nAt early dawn, tempted by the low rippling of the water on the white\nsea-beach, just beyond the lawn, we ventured on the rare luxury of\na sea-bath, in defiance of the sharks; and, encouraged by their\nnon-appearance, we now repeat this indulgence every morning, while\ntroops of pretty brown children disport themselves around us, swimming\nand diving like fishes. Our hostess has one charming little girl, whose\nprincipal ambition is to walk into the sea up to her neck, whenever she\nhas been dressed with the greatest care!\n\nWe devoted our first morning here to rowing along the beautiful shores,\nand exploring many creeks and inlets, which form secure harbours,\nwalled round by overhanging volcanic rock, and dotted with picturesque\nislands. All are densely wooded, and tempting to explore, but they are\nso water-worn that we rowed in and out and all round, one after another,\nfor several hours, before finding one place where we could possibly land.\nAt last we discovered a little sandy bay, where we spread our luncheon\nin the cool shade of glittering leaves, hoping afterwards to make our\nway to some high point whence we could look down on the scene. We also\nwished to discover some old native fortifications, which we knew to be\nperched somewhere far above us. But we failed to discover any track; and\nthe dense growth of tropical vegetation was altogether impenetrable, so\nwe rowed quietly back to a pretty island just facing the town, and there\nlingered till sunset.\n\nOn my return I found that the Lady Eleanor, Maafu\u2019s wife, had, at his\nbidding, prepared a _mangete_\u2014that is, a feast\u2014for me, which had been\nsent to the house during my absence; and my host, unheeding native\ncustom, had, most unfortunately, refused to admit it. I was exceedingly\nannoyed, knowing how dire an insult this would be considered, but\npersuaded him to accompany me in the evening to Maafu\u2019s house, to call\nand smooth matters. Properly speaking, notice of our coming should have\nbeen sent, and I fear that Lady Eleanor and her ladies were not much\npleased at being taken unawares, and _en d\u00e9shabille_. However, she is a\nvery fine old lady, and we parted excellent friends. Maafu himself had\njust started for Levuka. He is a splendid man, stalwart and stately; and\nwhenever I have seen him he has always been dressed in native _tappa_,\nthrown round his waist in handsome heavy folds. He has the proud bearing\nof his race, for among the Tongans even the common people walk as if they\nscorn the ground they tread on. Maafu (or the Roko Tui Lau, which is his\nofficial title) has ever been noted for the strength of character and\nvigour of action whereby he secured his position as the great chief of\nthis district.\n\nWe heard rather an amusing instance of his shrewdness in dealing with a\nfanatical sect which most strangely sprang into existence on one of his\nisles\u2014Matuku. Several men and one woman declared themselves to be angels,\nand began to hold religious services, and to extract money from their\nconverts, even administering corporal punishment to those who failed to\nobey their precepts. Their audacity won them many followers, till Maafu\narrived in person, and summoned the angels to answer for themselves. The\nwoman brought an angelic baby, whereupon Maafu asked her if it was hers,\nand if she was married, and if she really thought she was an angel, all\nwhich questions she answered in the affirmative. Whereupon he asked her\nif she couldn\u2019t read her Bible, and referred her to St Matthew to prove\nthat angels do not marry, whereas she had not only married, but had a\nbaby! He dismissed her amid the derision of her late disciples, and,\nhaving equally turned the men to ridicule (of all things most dreaded\nby a Fijian), he sentenced them to work on the roads as rogues and\nvagabonds, and so the new sect collapsed.\n\nBoth Maafu and his wife are stanch supporters of the Wesleyan Church,\nto which we found our way on Sunday morning at 8 A.M. There had already\nbeen a service at 6 A.M., which probably accounted for the attendance\nbeing somewhat meagre. The building is of the usual Fijian pattern,\nwith thatched roof and matted floor, and many open doorways,\u2014a style\nof architecture which is always airy and appropriate; but the ends of\nthe church are circular, after the Tongan fashion. The meeting seemed\nlacking in the perfect simplicity of a Fijian service; and our tendency\nto laugh was only conquered by our disgust, on seeing a regular verger,\narmed with a long stick, who periodically rose from his knees and walked\nabout administering a resounding blow to any young woman who was not\ndoubled up, at what he chose to consider the orthodox angle of devotion;\nwhile right in front of the pulpit was placed a bench, on which sat a row\nof the principal men, all dressed in hideous black coats and trousers,\nand who (doubtless from the same fear of injuring the latter which\nso strongly affects white men) never pretended to kneel at all; but\nthe verger took care not to see them, and confined his disciplinarian\nattentions to the women.\n\nWe returned in the afternoon to a service for children, which was pretty,\nthe young voices singing very sweetly.\n\nThe spread of Christianity in the groups on this side of the Fijian\narchipelago has been marked by the same quiet and unobtrusive but most\nsteady advance which has been so strangely characteristic of its work\nthroughout these isles. I told you the story of Ono, where the people,\nhaving gathered some dim idea of the Unknown God, induced a heathen\npriest to offer on their behalf (though not on his own) the first words\nof Christian prayer uttered on the lonely little isle of Ono, which so\nquickly became a centre of strength to the mission. As in apostolic days,\nthe converts straightway went forth to make known in other isles the new\nreligion of peace and love. One of these Fijian apostles started, like\nthe others, in his little canoe, and sailed a distance of wellnigh 300\nmiles, till he reached Oneata, an isle lying about twenty miles to the\nsouth-east of Lakeinba, where the first white missionaries had landed,\nand where Mr Calvert was then living alone, having only arrived in Fiji\nabout a year previously, as yet knowing little of the people or their\nlanguage, and yet endeavouring, with the help of the Tongan teachers, to\nestablish stations not only in the thirteen towns on the large isles of\nLakemba, but also on the twenty-four isles (some 140 miles apart) which\nform that group. Few indeed were the labourers in so wide a field.\n\nGladly was the new teacher from Ono welcomed. Soon one of the chiefs of\nOneata was convinced of the truth, and himself undertook to persuade\nothers; and so, one by one, new converts were added to the faith, and\nothers would fain have declared themselves, but dreaded the wrath of\nthe king of Lakemba, to whom Oneata was tributary, and who had strictly\nforbidden any of his people to adopt the new religion. Great was the\namazement of all, when a heathen priest arrived, bearing a message from\nthe king, to say that as so many had become Christians, he wished all the\ninhabitants of the isle would do so, as it was for the good of the people\nthat all should be of one mind!\n\nThese men of Oneata were an industrious and enterprising race, singularly\nindependent in character, and much given to trading with other isles. Now\neach canoe, as it went forth on its ordinary business, became a little\nmission ship; and the sailors of Oneata seemed never weary of teaching\nothers all that they had learnt, and urging them to adopt the new\nreligion.\n\nAmongst other isles where they were wont to trade was this isle of Vanua\nMbalavu, lying about ninety miles to the north of Oneata. Landing here\nat Loma Loma, their first convert was a chief of the name of Mbukarau, a\nrough and powerful man, and strong of purpose. Hearing that there were\nTongan teachers at Lakemba, he at once got ready his canoe, and sailed\nthither, a distance of seventy miles, to ask for a teacher for himself\nand his people. One was sent; and soon they were joined by a little\ncompany of nine persons, and these gradually increased to quite a large\ncongregation, and the new converts in their turn went and taught their\nneighbours at Yaro. Vanua Mbalavu has a population of about 3000 persons,\nand is divided into two distinct provinces\u2014Loma Loma and Yaro. A cruel\nwar having broken out between these, the Christians of both districts\ndesired to keep themselves clear of it, and appealed to the king of Yaro\nfor permission to settle on the little isle of Munia, where they might\ncontinue neutral. This request was granted, and to the astonishment\nof all, the king of Yaro sent a message to the inhabitants of Munia,\nrecommending them to _lotu_, and to abandon their fortresses in the\nmountains, and come down to live peacefully with the Christians, on the\nsea board. So, strange to say, this purely Christian colony was founded\nby the advice of a heathen king, and soon a new town was built on the\nmost favourable site; its people were permitted to sail wherever they\nwished, without hindrance, exempt from the dangers and claims of war;\nand Munia was accounted a sacred city of refuge, where any persons,\nfleeing from either of the fighting districts, were in safety. So they\ncultivated their lands in peace, but did not fail in their zealous\nendeavours to spread the good tidings further and further among the\noutlying isles. Amongst those whom they thus sought to influence were\nthe people of Thikombia, a rocky island, distant about twelve miles, all\nthe inhabitants of which lived in one town on the top of a high crag,\nthe face of which was a sheer precipice, on the brink of which many\ngenerations of children had been reared in perfect safety\u2014no one having\never fallen over. These people heard and believed, and thenceforth from\nthat rocky home the voice of Christian worship arose continually. And so\nfrom isle to isle the faith continued to spread, notwithstanding waves\nof bitter persecution which from time to time were raised by those who\ncontinued heathen. We have seen those isles of Munia and Thikombia, but\nhave not been very near them.\n\nWithin a short distance of Loma Loma lies a group of hot springs, which,\nthough on a very small scale, are of course interesting. Here, as at\nSavu Savu, some of them lie actually below high-water mark, but the two\nprincipal ones are in a deep gorge\u2014a wilderness of almost inaccessible\nrocks, hidden by huge fallen boulders and interlacing vines. They must\nhave been discovered by the merest accident, and we needed a good guide\nto show us where they lay. It was a difficult piece of rock-scrambling,\nbut sufficiently interesting to repay the toil.\n\nI think I have already mentioned that we only know of four places now\nexisting in the group where there is evidence of the internal action of\nfire\u2014namely, the springs at Savu Savu in Viti Levu, a very hot stream on\nthe western side of the same isle, the boiling springs at Ngau, and these\nat Loma Loma.\n\nWe returned by Maafu\u2019s excellent road, by far the best as yet constructed\nin the group. A bevy of nice Fijian girls escorted us, and pointed out,\nwith much wonder, a small boat in which a party of Samoans, weary of the\nstrife in their own land, have ventured to come all the way across the\nsea. It is a sort of whale-boat, stitched with sinnet\u2014_i.e._, native\nstring of cocoa-nut fibre. I do not know the exact distance between the\ntwo groups, but it cannot be under 1000 miles. So I think the girls might\nwell wonder at the bold islesmen who ventured on such a journey in a\nlittle open boat.\n\nI spent part of the next day in a quiet valley, sketching a native\ncemetery, with the usual drac\u00e6na and other red-leaved plants, and tidy\ngraves, many of which are thickly strewn with small green stones, brought\nfrom some distant isle: others are covered over with white wave-worn\npebbles or white coral.\n\n * * * * *\n\n ON BOARD THE BLACK SWAN, _August 30_.\n\nOur departure was rather hurried by the unexpected arrival of the steamer\na day before its time. We have retraced the route by which we came,\ncalling at Mago, where Miss Ryder rejoined her family, and at various\npoints in Taviuni, where I had glimpses of several friends, and a\npleasant evening at the mission. I have been much edified by hearing the\nconversation of an Anglo-Fijian of the old type\u2014a man who was not ashamed\nto entertain his audience with anecdotes of his own kidnapping exploits\nand those of others, of whom he spoke with much approbation. He referred\nto the wretched victims as if they had been so many rats. Every such\nanecdote I hear, makes me wonder less that the actions of such miscreants\nshould have led to reprisals which have resulted in the loss of precious\nlives, like those of Bishop Patteson and Commodore Goodenough. The\nspeaker went on to boast of other noble deeds by which some of his white\nfriends had lent their elevating influence to the dark races, mentioning\none planter especially, Mr L\u2014\u2014x, who, finding himself utterly unable to\nmake the rapid fortune he expected by his estate, abandoned it; but ere\nridding the country of his presence, he set to work to cut down all the\nbread-fruit trees (none of _his_ planting!), determined that no one else\nshould profit by what he could not enjoy. Could a more diabolical mind be\nconceived? Certainly if the establishment of a strong-handed government\nin the country has no other effect than to drive such men as these out of\nit, it will not have worked in vain. The speaker seemed ready to favour\nus with many more anecdotes of the past, but my expression of unmitigated\ndisgust unfortunately stayed the stream, which I now regret, as it is as\nwell to know facts, instead of only the vague rumours, which one is apt\nto suppose exaggerated, like objects seen looming large through a mist.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _August 31._\n\nLast night we anchored off Koro, to take in a cargo of arrowroot and\nother produce. I spent the night with Mrs Chalmers and her daughters, and\nat six o\u2019clock this morning they brought me on board. Now we are nearing\nOvalau, our island home, which, as usual, is looking lovely. The flag\nflying at Nasova tells me Sir Arthur is at home. There are a good many\nvessels in harbour, amongst others a large French man-of-war\u2014the first we\nhave seen since we came here. I see the gig coming from Nasova to fetch\nme, with the cheery bronze crew, in their white and crimson liveries.\n\n * * * * *\n\n NASOVA, _Sept. 1_.\n\nTo-day being the anniversary of annexation, three years ago, is a\nred-letter day, and public holiday. The races last May were voted such\na success, that another race-meeting was held to-day, and a very pretty\nscene it was, the lovely valley looking its very best. All the officers\nfrom the French man-of-war, Le Seignelay, were there, and were greatly\namused. Several dined here last night\u2014a pleasant, gentleman-like set.\nThe vessel is at present taking the Roman Catholic Bishop of Samoa,\nMonseigneur Elloi, on a tour of inspection of all places under his\njurisdiction. Both he and Commandant Aube, who is a very fine specimen\nof the old French school, have been here a good deal, and seem to be\nvery much liked. Their visit is a pleasant episode, as they have seen so\nmuch of exceeding interest in the isles they have already visited. Their\ndescriptions of scenery are tantalising.\n\n * * * * *\n\n _September 4._\n\nTo-day Lady Gordon has had a great luncheon-party of about forty people,\nand now they are all playing lawn-tennis on the green. As for me, I am\npreparing for a wonderful and delightful trip. For the last few days our\nFrench friends have been urging me to complete \u201c_Le tour de la Mission_\u201d\nin the Seignelay,\u2014and so, see and sketch many lovely isles, which, under\nno other circumstances, could I possibly visit. Of course, at first I\ntreated the suggestion as simply a polite form; but we found it was made\nthoroughly in earnest, _de bon c\u0153ur_, and by one and all,\u2014especially by\nthe occupant of the very best cabin, which had actually been prepared for\nme before I dreamt of accepting it. At last we were all so thoroughly\nconvinced that the invitation was perfectly genuine, that Sir Arthur has\nconsented to my going, and to-morrow we sail for Tonga, and then Samoa,\nwhere I am to visit a friend, who is wife of the Consul, and has sent me\nmany invitations. Thence I am to return here.\n\nSuch at least is my intention. But my kind new friends scout the idea of\nmy turning back before we reach Tahiti, of which they speak as of a dream\nof indescribable loveliness. Whether I may be tempted to proceed there, I\ncannot possibly tell. Certainly I am made to feel as if I were conferring\na favour, instead of what I feel to be accepting so great a one. We sail\nto-morrow, therefore it may be a good while before you next hear from me.\nSo good-bye for the present.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII.\n\n NOTES ON FIJIAN FOLK-LORE\u2014LEGEND OF THE RAT AND CUTTLE-FISH:\n THE CRANE AND THE CRAB: ESSAY OF ROAST PIG: OF GIGANTIC\n BIRDS\u2014SERPENTS WORSHIPPED AS INCARNATE GODS\u2014SACRED STONES\n WORSHIPPED\u2014MYTHOLOGY AND WITCHCRAFT.\n\n\nIt has been a matter of great regret to me that I found so very few\nopportunities of hearing the legends and fables which I believe abound\nthroughout these isles. The few persons who have chanced to learn them\nfrom the natives were generally too busy to tell them,\u2014still more, unable\nto spare time to write them down, as I invariably asked them to do. Those\nI did hear were fanciful, and often poetic.\n\nWhen I was staying on the island of Ngau, I succeeded in buying some\ncurious specimens of the bait used for cuttle-fish. It is a very fair\nimitation of a rat, made of the backs of two brown cowries, with a heavy\nstone between them,\u2014a small brown cowrie to represent the head, and a\nwooden tail. The shells are bored and tied together with sinnet. Wishing\nto learn the origin of so quaint a device, we inquired of our host,\nZacheusa\u2014a fine old Fijian teacher, who did good work among the Kai\nTholos in the early days of the _lotu_, and who knows many legends. What\nhe told us was as follows:\u2014\n\n\u201cA rat one day fell off a canoe into the sea, and landed on the head of\na cuttle-fish, greatly to the alarm of both. The cuttle-fish was going\nto shake off the rat, when the latter prayed him to show mercy on him,\nand to carry him to a place where his grandfather and grandmother were\nwaiting for him. So the kind cuttle-fish swam on and on, till he was very\nweary; but the rat enjoyed this new mode of travel, and urged him to go\non further and further. At last they neared a grassy bank, which was just\nwhere the rat wished to land; but being an ungenerous animal himself,\nhe feared the cuttle-fish would play him some trick, so he cried, \u2018Oh,\nplease, do not land me there: I shall surely die.\u2019 But the cuttle-fish,\nbeing weary of him, swam straight to the bank, whereupon the rat jumped\nashore, and instead of thanking his kind deliverer, he ran away jeering.\nSo now the cuttle-fish hates the rat, and is always on the watch to seize\nhim and punish him.\u201d And this is why the fisher-folk of Ngau make rats of\ncowrie-shells to bait their nets.\n\nHere is a kindred fable, quoted from Sir Arthur Gordon\u2019s private journal:\u2014\n\n\u201c_In Camp, Nasaucoko, July 18, 1876_....\u2014After yangona in the evening,\nall the party began to tell fables. \u2018The crane and the crab,\u2019 say the\nFijians, \u2018quarrelled as to their powers of racing. The crab said he would\ngo the fastest, and that the crane might fly across from point to point,\nwhile he went round by the shore. The crane flew off, and the crab stayed\nquietly in his hole, trusting to the multitude of his brethren to deceive\nthe crane. The crane flew to the first point, and seeing a crab-hole, put\ndown his ear, and heard a buzzing noise. \u201cThat slave is here before me,\u201d\nsaid he, and flew on to the next point. Here the same thing happened,\ntill at last, on reaching a point above Serua, the crane fell exhausted,\nand was drowned in the sea.\u2019\n\n\u201cRatu Tabusakiu capped this by an almost exactly similar story,\u2014only in\nthis case the competition was between a crane and a butterfly. The latter\nchallenged the crane to fly to Tonga, tempting him to do so by asking if\nhe was fond of shrimps. The butterfly kept resting on the crane\u2019s back,\nwithout the crane knowing it, and whenever the bird looked round and said\nto himself, \u2018That _kaisi_ (lowborn) fellow is gone; I can rest and fly\nslowly now, without fear of his overtaking me,\u2019 the butterfly would leave\nhis back and fly a little way ahead, saying, \u2018Here I am, cousin,\u2019 till\nthe poor bird died exhausted; and the butterfly, who had no longer his\nback to rest on, perished also.\u201d\n\nEqually charming is a legend told to me in the mountains of Viti Levu,\nwhich suggests that Charles Lamb must have visited Fiji ere he wrote\nthe \u2018Essays of Elia,\u2019 for here is a native version of the \u201cEssay of\nRoast Pig\u201d! The legend tells how, many many years ago, there had been\na fight at Nandronga, and the dead bodies of the slain were laid under\nthe overhanging eaves of a house till the living had time to bury them.\nThe house accidentally took fire and was burnt down, and the bodies were\nof course roasted. The chief ordered that they should be removed, and\nthe men who lifted them burnt their fingers: they instinctively put\ntheir hands to their mouths, licked, and liked the flavour. They called\nto their friends, who followed suit; and thus the people of the isles\ndiscovered how excellent a thing is roast flesh,\u2014a fact which they had\npreviously had no chance of testing, as, with the exception of a small\nrat, no animal of any sort existed on any of the isles, till the men\nof Tonga imported pigs. Thus it was that cannibalism originated in the\nisles. So says the legend of Nandronga.\n\nA few legends, forming the subject of popular _m\u00e9k\u00e9s_, have happily been\npreserved by the Rev. Thomas Williams. One of these tells of a crab so\nlarge that it grasped a man in its claw, but he fortunately slipped\nthrough between the forceps, and so escaped injury. Another man ventured\nto climb on to the monster\u2019s back, and paid dear for his temerity, being\ndashed to pieces by a stroke from a claw. That must have been a curiously\nconstructed crab! He quotes another which tells of a gigantic bird called\n\u201cDuck of the Rock,\u201d which carried off Tutu Wathi Wathi, the beautiful\nwife of the god Okova, and sister to Rokoua, while she was fishing on the\nreef at Nai Thombo Thombo. The gods started in a large canoe to search\nfor the lady, and they came to an island inhabited only by goddesses, who\nspent their lives in pleasant sport. Rokoua suggested that they might as\nwell remain here, and give up their vain quest for Okova\u2019s lost love;\nbut the faithful husband scouted the idea, and insisted on sailing to\nthe Yasawas, the most westerly isles of the group. Here they found the\ncave in which lived the terrible bird. But the cave was empty, for the\nbird was fishing; and they found only one little finger of Tutu Wathi\nWathi. Yet this Okova cherished as a special relic, and swore to avenge\nher death. Presently they saw the devourer approach, and his vast wings\ndarkened the face of the sun. In his beak he carried five large turtles,\nand in his talons ten porpoises, which he at once proceeded to eat. Then\nOkova prayed to three other gods to aid him by causing the wind to blow;\nand immediately a gust blew back the feathers of the monster\u2019s tail, and\nRokoua instantly struck his spear through it vitals. So great was the\nbird that, though the spear was very long, it was entirely lost in its\nbody. They took one of its smallest feathers to make a new canoe sail,\nnot venturing to risk the use of a large feather. They then cast the dead\nbird into the sea, causing such a surge as to \u201cflood the foundation of\nthe sky.\u201d So having accomplished their just vengeance, they sailed safely\nback to Nai Thombo Thombo.\n\nIt seems strange, in writing of a country so recently pagan, to have no\noccasion to allude to the religion of the past. This is partly because\nthe idols were few and insignificant. The different gods dwelt enshrined\nin all manner of animals\u2014fish, birds, reptiles,\u2014and even plants. The\nhawk, the shark, the land-crab, fowl, eel, and, above all, the serpent,\nwere thus held in reverence.\n\nOf the latter, very few specimens are to be found in Fiji (so few, that\nduring my two years of continual travel and observation in the isles,\nI have only seen two, both of which were gliding among rocks on the\nsea-shore). These reptiles were worshipped under different names in\nthe various isles of the group. In some places, when one was found it\nwas anointed with cocoa-nut oil, and left at liberty. In others it was\nreverently carried to the temple, and there laid on a bed of native cloth\nand solemnly anointed and fed.\n\nUnder this form was worshipped Ndengei, the supreme god and creator of\nall things. He it was who sent a great deluge to punish the sin of his\nrebellious people; he also revealed fire by teaching two of his human\nsons to rub two pieces of wood together. His temple was at Raki Raki, a\ncave on the north-east of Viti Levu, whither the people carried great\nofferings. One sacrifice is recorded of two hundred pigs and one hundred\nturtles. But the most acceptable sacrifices were human; and men have\nbeen known to slay their own wives, rather than fail to propitiate the\ngiver of yams. The offerings were laid before the mouth of the cave, and\nthe priests crawled in on hands and knees. If the prayer were granted,\nthey reappeared all wet to show that needful rain-showers would fall. Of\ncourse if the omen failed, subsequent sins were alleged as the cause of\nfailure in the compact.\n\nNdengei was supposed to love silence, therefore the noisy bats near his\ncave were banished; the potters were likewise dismissed to small islands,\npurposely created for them; and women going to fetch water from the\nsacred mount were enjoined to be silent, else their food would turn into\nserpents.\n\nThere appears reason to suppose that the serpent was commonly worshipped\nthroughout the Pacific\u2014certainly in the Friendly or Tongan Isles. When\n(A.D. 1830) Mr Williams visited this group, he touched at a small isle\nnear Tongatabu, and found a nest of sea-snakes. He bade his men kill the\nlargest as a specimen. At the next island where they touched they carried\nit ashore, and prepared to dry it, but the fishermen (who were preparing\ntheir nets) raised a terrific yell, and seizing their clubs rushed upon\nthe Christian natives, shouting, \u201cYou have killed our god!\u201d Williams\nstepped between the two parties, and with difficulty restrained their\nviolence, on condition that the reptile should at once be carried back\nto the boat.\n\nThe Fijian gods seemed to have fully appreciated the blessings of\nquiet. Raitumaibulu, lord of life, god of the crops, was especially\ncareful of his own comfort in this respect. During the month of December\n(midsummer), when he came to earth to cause all fruit-bearing trees to\nblossom, the people were forbidden to make any unnecessary noise: they\nmight not blow the trumpet, nor beat drums, nor dance, nor sing (not even\nat sea); they might neither cultivate the soil nor make war, lest the\ngod should be disturbed in his operations, and deliver over the land to\nfamine. Here we mark the connection, common to all mythologies, between\nthe old serpent and the fruits of the earth. This Ceres of Fiji had no\nserpent car to bring him to earth, but he himself took the form of a\nserpent, and dwelt in a small cave near Mbau, where the people flocked to\ndo him homage.\n\nA legend attaches to this cave, which makes us wish that more attention\ncould be given to the folk-lore of these isles ere it utterly fades away,\nlike the grey mists of night before the beams of morning. Perhaps it is\nalready too late, for the _lotu_ (Christianity) has brought in such a\nflood of newer stories, that doubtless the old fables have fallen into\ndisrepute, and probably (just as in Scotland) the dread of a sneer or a\nrebuke from their teachers will cause those who know them best to shrink\nfrom uttering them. The legend I allude to was happily recorded by Mr\nWaterhouse, senior, one of the earliest and most able of the Wesleyan\nmissionaries. Such men as these had little spare time, and probably less\ninclination, to take much trouble in collecting foolish stories. However,\nenough have been recorded to make us wish for more; and here is a sample\nof Fijian folk-lore.\n\nI have told you how the lord of the crops lay enshrined in the likeness\nof a great serpent. But there was a sceptical chief, named Keroika, who\nwould not believe in this divinity, and rashly determined to test the\nmatter. So, taking with him a cargo of small fish, he proceeded in his\ncanoe to the sacred cave. There he was greeted by a serpent of average\nsize, who told him he was son of the god: Keroika made him an offering\nof fish, and prayed for an interview with his father. Another serpent\ncame out to see what was going on. He proved to be a grandson, and he\nlikewise received a gift of fish, and a request to induce his grandfather\nto appear. And after a while an immense serpent came forth, and Keroika\nknew that it was the Raitumaibulu himself. So he made obeisance,\nand presented his offering of fish, which was graciously accepted\nby the serpent-god; but as he turned to retreat to his cave Keroika\ntreacherously shot him with an arrow, and then, horror-stricken at what\nhe had done, fled in terror from the spot, but he was pursued by a\nterrible voice, crying, \u201cNought but serpents! Nought but serpents!\u201d These\nominous words were still ringing in his ears when he reached his home,\nwhere, determined to conquer his foolish fear, he called for dinner. But\nwhen the servants uncovered the cooking-pot, and were about to lift out\nthe food, they started back in horror\u2014the pot was full of serpents. At\nleast, thought the chief, I will drink; but as he raised a jar to his\nlips he poured out serpents instead of water. Hungry and thirsty, he\nthrew himself wearily on his mat, hoping to find solace in sleep, but\nfrom every corner hissing snakes glided round him, and the wretched man\nfled from his house in terror. As he passed the temple he saw a crowd\ncollected to hear the priest make a revelation, which was that the god\nhad been wounded by a citizen, and that in consequence evil would surely\nbefall the city. So, finding there was no use in further concealment, he\nconfessed his crime, made large offerings to propitiate the angry god,\nand received pardon.\n\nWhen the Rev. John Hunt visited the island of Vatulele, he was invited\nby one of the chiefs to visit a cave about seven miles distant, in which\ndwelt the gods of the island. He found a cave about twenty feet in\nheight and sixty in length, communicating with an inner cave, in both\nof which the receding tide leaves a clear pool, inhabited by a variety\nof crustacea somewhat larger than a shrimp: these are common enough at\ncertain places, and are brown till cooked, when they become red. Those in\nthis cave are all red, and probably are therefore deemed supernatural.\nTheir mother is said to be of immense size, and dwells by herself in the\ninner cave; but the children, who are called Ura, answer to their name,\nand appear at the call of their worshippers\u2014or rather did so in heathen\ndays.\n\nAlthough an idol visibly representing a deity was almost unknown, the\npersonal appearance of the gods was minutely recorded. Thus Thangawalu\nwas a giant sixty feet in height, with a forehead eight span high.\nAnother had but one tooth, which was in the lower jaw, but rose above his\nhead. He had wings instead of arms, and on these were claws wherewith to\nhook his victims. One had eight arms, and was a skilful mechanic. Another\nhad eight eyes, and was full of wisdom. One had eighty stomachs. Another\nhad two bodies, male and female, united like the Siamese twins. There\nwas a leper god, and a murderer; a god of war, and one whose sole delight\nwas to steal women of high birth.\n\nThe carpenters, the fishermen, and agriculturists, each worshipped\nspecial deities.\n\nIn addition to the principal gods, there was a vast number of little\ngods, answering to our fairies, who were called \u201cchildren of the waters.\u201d\nThere were also numerous objects of veneration which recall our own\nScotch relics. Such was _wairua_, which was an oval stone, the size of\na swan\u2019s egg, which, with several smaller stones, children of the god,\nlay in the hollow of a small tree beside the stream at Namusi in Viti\nLevu. There was another stone at Mbau which gave birth to a little stone\nwhenever a woman of rank was confined in the town. This sympathetic deity\nhas been removed, but its children still mark the spot where it formerly\nlay. At Ovalau there was formerly a black stone, which was once a sacred\npig killed and baked by sacrilegious hands, but which, on being taken out\nof the oven, was found to have assumed this form. There were also groves\nof sacred trees at Mbau, and in several other places\u2014too many of which\nhave been destroyed by iconoclastic zeal.\n\nCertain war-clubs were treated with reverence approaching to worship;\nand the men who had wielded them with the mightiest arm, and had been\nspecially distinguished in battle, ranked as heroes and demi-gods,\nhenceforth to be honoured with libations at every ceremonial-drinking of\nyangona. As the water was poured into the yangona-bowl, a herald cried\naloud: \u201cPrepare a libation to the Loa-loa\u2014to the Veidoti,\u201d &c., &c.,\nmentioning all the chief temples reverenced by the tribe. \u201cPrepare a\nlibation to the chieftains who have died on the water, or died on the\nland! Be gracious, ye lords, the gods, that the rain may cease\u201d (or\nwhatever prayer was to be offered). Then, as the cup was filled for the\nhighest chief present, the herald once more cried: \u201cLet the gods be\ngracious, and send us a wind from the west or from the east,\u201d according\nto the requirements of the day. Then as the king or high chief took the\ncup, he poured the libation on the ground ere he drank. Of course this\nceremony has passed away with the old faith in the gods.\n\nAs to notions concerning a future life, I fancy that the traditions\nconcerning the way of approach to the spirit-world varied in different\nparts of the group. In Vanua Levu we were told that the beautiful\nheadland of Nai Thombo Thombo, the northernmost point of the isle, was\nthe spot where the gods were wont to assemble, and whence the spirits\nof the dead departed to seek the abode of Ndengei. It is a very eerie\nspot, with precipitous cliffs towering above dense masses of foliage, and\ncasting a deep gloomy shade\u2014the awful stillness of which is unbroken by\nthe cry of any living thing.\n\nThe way to Mbula, as the Fijian Paradise is called, was long and\ndifficult, and many enemies sought to waylay the spirits and take them\ncaptive. One of these, called Nangga Nangga, was so bitter a foe to all\nwho had eschewed wedded bliss, that it is said not one of these hapless\nones has ever reached his bourne. Seized by the vengeful demon, he was\ndashed to pieces on a large black stone.\n\nAt Nai Thombo Thombo the fortunate man, whose wives had so loved him as\nto submit to be strangled on his death, was rejoined by their spirits,\nand together they embarked in the canoe which was appointed to carry\nthem to the presence of the judge\u2014notice of their approach being given\nby a parrot, which cried once for each spirit of the party, and so gave\nwarning to a demon named Samuyalo, \u201cthe killer of souls,\u201d who lay in wait\nand endeavoured to club them. If he succeeded in killing them, he feasted\nspiritually; but if he only wounded them, they were doomed to wander\nsadly among the mountains.\n\nThose who escaped the club of the soul destroyer passed on to one of the\nhighest peaks of the Kauvandra mountains, where the path to Mbula ends\nabruptly at the brink of a precipice, the base of which is washed by\na deep lake. Here an old man and his son induced the wayfarers to sit\non an overhanging oar, whence they were thrown headlong into the deep\nwaters below, through which they passed to Muri Muria, which was a minor\nparadise in Mbula.\n\nThe true abode of bliss was Mburotu, a blessed region of scented groves\nand pleasant glades, where all things most highly prized by the Fijians\nwere said to abound. Here they cultivated pleasant gardens, lived in\nfamilies, ate and drank, and even fought. Moreover, like Mohammedan\nsaints, they were supposed to attain exceeding great stature. But the\nprimary idea connected with death seems to have been that of simple rest,\nas expressed in one of their songs\u2014\n\n \u201cA mate na vawa rawa;\n Me bula\u2014na ka ni cava?\n A mate na cegu.\u201d\n\n Death is easy;\n Of what use is life?\n To die is rest.\n\nThose spirits who had failed to please the gods were subjected to divers\npunishments. Some were laid in rows on their faces, and converted into\n_taro_ beds. Men who had failed to slay a foe were sentenced for evermore\nto beat a heap of filth with a club, this being the most degrading\npunishment. Others were roasted and eaten by hungry gods.\n\nOpinions were divided as to the souls of inanimate objects. Some people\nprofessed to have seen the souls of canoes, houses, plants, pots, and\nother things swimming on the stream of the Kauvandra well, which bore\nthem to the regions of immortality; and others averred that they had seen\nfootmarks of the ghosts of pigs and dogs round the same well.\n\nMburotu (which the Tongans called Bulotu and the Samoans Pulotu) was the\nabode of the gods, into which favoured mortals were admitted. The legends\nconcerning it tell of a speaking tree which was there, and a fountain of\nlife. The Tongan legend tells how Maui, the chief of the gods, fished up\nTonga from the bottom of the sea, and how some of the minor gods fled\nfrom Bulotu and took up their abode on Tonga. To punish this rebellion\nthey were made subject to death, and forbidden ever to re-enter Bulotu;\nand great was their wonder and sorrow when they realised the change that\nhad come over them. But they made the best of matters, and became the\nparents of the noble Tongan race.\n\nThe Fijians believe that sometimes, as they sail from the Windward Isles\ntowards Khandavu, they see Burotu, with the sun shining brightly on it.\nBut when they steer towards it, it fades away, and grows fainter and\nfainter, till it vanishes utterly, and they sail in silent wonder over\nthe spot where they distinctly saw it standing, green and beautiful, in\nthe midst of the waters.\n\nIn the course of our wanderings through the isles, we have heard some\ncurious statistics concerning the practice of witchcraft, which in many\ndetails are almost identical with the superstitions which, as you well\nknow, were once so common in the British Isles, and still linger there\nin many a corner little suspected.[64] Thus a person having a grudge\nagainst his neighbour will try to obtain something which he has touched\u2014a\nbit of his dress, the refuse of his food, or, above all, a piece of his\nhair,\u2014and having uttered certain charmed words, will conceal this about\nthe house\u2014generally in the thatch\u2014with a conviction that, ere long, the\nvictim will waste away. Should he bathe in running water before the\nfourth day, the charm is broken, as it also would be should the charm be\ndiscovered. Of course, persons professing Christianity are supposed to\nlose faith in such matters; but in truth such superstitions are slow to\ndie out. There are also certain magical leaves which, being carefully\nrolled up in a bamboo and buried in a man\u2019s garden, insure his being\nbewitched. In heathen days, the help of the priest was sought in laying\non the charm; and a common method pursued was to bury a cocoa-nut beneath\nthe temple hearth, where a fire was constantly burning: then, as the nut\ndried up and perished, so would the person represented sicken and die.\nHere, as in Scotland, there were professional witches, whose power for\nevil was always to be purchased. Persons believing themselves to be in\ndanger from any such, invariably applied to some dealer in witchcraft,\nwho wrought counter spells. Should the wizard be detected in his evil\ndeed\u2014burying or hiding the charm\u2014he was summarily clubbed, and his house\nburnt.\n\nStrange ordeals were also common, as proofs of guilt or innocence. So\nwere divers methods of divination.\n\nVery curious, too, are the various forms of _tambu_ or prohibition, made\nuse of to protect the gardens from robbery\u2014such as planting a cluster\nof reeds, the tops of which are all inserted in one cocoa-nut. The rash\nthief who defies this _tambu_ is certain to be afflicted with boils.\n\nSeers used formerly to be in high repute, and the class of visions that\nwe know as \u201csecond sight\u201d were common.\n\nAmong the graceful forms of superstition, is that of courteously\nexclaiming _mbula_ (\u201clife to you\u201d) to a person who sneezes, who\ninvariably replies _mole_\u2014\u201cthanks.\u201d\n\nFrom these few meagre notes you may gather that there is abundant\ninteresting material to be collected in these isles, should any one be\nfound possessing unbounded leisure, perfect knowledge of the people and\nof their language, and a disposition to devote both to the search for\nthese fast-fading traces of the past.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX.\n\n GOVERNMENT AND THE FIJIANS.\n\n\nAmong the many difficult problems which awaited solution when Sir\nArthur Gordon assumed the task of government, none seemed more hopeless\nthan that of devising a system of native taxation which should be at\nonce just and remunerative. The atrocious wrongs connected with the\npoll-tax, devised by Thakombau\u2019s government, had led to its abolition in\nfavour of a labour-tax, the working of which, however, was found to be\nimpracticable. It was therefore necessary to devise some system which\nshould be more acceptable to the people, and more satisfactory in its\nresults. After mature consideration, Sir Arthur decided to adopt the\ncourse so strongly recommended by Mr Thurston\u2014namely, to cause every\ndistrict to make a garden or plantation, the produce of which should be\nsold to the highest bidder. From the money thus received the Government\nshould claim the sum at which the district had been assessed, and the\nsurplus should be restored to the cultivators. The promulgation of this\nscheme led to a storm of the most virulent abuse. It was said that\nGovernment was about to absorb the whole trade of the isles; that the\nmeasure was cruelly antagonistic to every interest of the white planters;\nthat it was certain to prove a gigantic failure; and, in short, it was\nabout as unpopular a measure as was ever devised.\n\nSir Arthur is, however, one who has been well described as \u201cdoing his\nown thinking for himself.\u201d Unheeding the storm of tongues, he caused the\nchiefs to establish gardens in every district, and though, at first, from\nmany causes beyond control, they seemed in danger of utter failure,\nwhich should fulfil the prophecies of the unfriendly, after a while they\nprospered to such a degree as to astonish even the keenest advocates\nof the scheme, and became not only a large source of revenue, but also\nproduced a surplus which has greatly enriched the several districts.\n\nThe matter is one of such importance to the colony that a few further\nparticulars may prove interesting.\n\nThe following extracts from the \u2018Fiji Times\u2019 reveal something of the\nmanner in which the poll-tax was collected, and the labour market\nsupplied, immediately prior to annexation\u2014_i.e._, in 1874.\n\n \u201cThe native poll-tax, and the manner of enforcing it, is\n creating considerable dissatisfaction on all sides. Only last\n week, it appears, a whole town was summoned for arrears of\n taxes. Nineteen men and twenty women were sentenced, in default\n of payment, to hard labour\u2014the former for 35 weeks, and the\n latter to 19 weeks; subsequently they were hired to planters\n at 1s. per week, until the amount of the tax, together with\n 5s. for summons, and 10s. for serving it in each case (although\n only one summons was issued), be fully paid. This is collecting\n taxes with a vengeance, and such proceedings are eminently\n calculated to engender ill-feeling on the side of the natives,\n and to create disturbances in retaliation for such extraordinary\n treatment. It is no wonder that Her Britannic Majesty\u2019s Consul\n and the Commodore were everywhere met by natives, imploring to\n be relieved from the severe rule of the _de facto_ Government,\n and beseeching those high officers to annex the islands to Great\n Britain.\n\n \u201cWe know that but a few weeks back one minor chief proposed, and\n was with difficulty prevented from, the commission of suicide,\n simply because he and his people were deprived of liberty under\n these most atrocious regulations.\u201d\n\n \u201c_To the Editor of the \u2018Fiji Times.\u2019_\n\n \u201cLEVUKA, _September 19, 1874_.\n\n \u201cSIR,\u2014At the risk of being troublesome, I have again to draw\n attention to the manner in which this Government are oppressing\n the unfortunate Ra Coast natives. From two labour boats which\n arrived here this morning from that district, I gather the\n following reliable information. My informant states labourers\n are obtained as follows:\u2014\n\n \u201c\u2018Any men and women whose taxes are in arrear are summoned to\n appear before the warden, to answer to the same. The usual\n method pursued is to send a general summons, embracing perhaps\n all the adult population of a large town, and 1s. mileage is\n charged individually for service of summons\u2014a summons which in\n many cases has never been served. These unfortunate natives\n are compelled to attend the court, and, in the absence of any\n advocate, are mulct in the sum of 5 or 1 dol., as the case\n may be (male or female), together with the costs of court,\n including the mileage, which amounts to about 4 dollars per\n man: of course they cannot pay, and are then sentenced to\n work out the amount, at the rate of 1s. per week, and are\n compelled to engage with planters for one year. Then what\n follows? Husbands and wives are dragged away from their homes,\n their little surroundings become lost and destroyed. They have\n to endure a bitter and compulsory bondage of twelve months,\n with the prospect of returning to their cold and desolate\n hearths\u2014with fresh taxes in view, _ad infinitum_.\u2019\u201d\n\nAnother correspondent writes\u2014\n\n \u201cI am informed that the wretched natives who are unable to\n pay their taxes are made to work on plantations at the rate\n of forty days for 4s., sixty days for 6s. At this rate, the\n unfortunate wretches would have to work for 280 days in the\n year to pay the yearly tax imposed upon a man and his wife.\u201d\n\nAnd yet another\u2014\n\n \u201cThe vile atrocious wrongs which have been perpetrated in\n connection with the labour traffic and the collection of\n taxes upon the helpless, frightened natives\u2014of both sexes\u2014by\n a cowardly set of officials, assisted by a brutal, licentious\n soldiery, and connived at by the executive, because the\n money\u2014blood money, with God\u2019s curse surely stamped upon every\n coin\u2014flows into the treasury, are a foul blot, even upon the\n worst Government with which this unhappy country has been\n afflicted; and yet, sir, we are met on all sides with the\n canting cry, \u2018Oh! what a good thing for these poor natives to\n be taken away to the cotton plantations. You must civilise them\n first, and then Christianise them.\u2019\u201d\n\nIn Sir Arthur Gordon\u2019s report on this subject, he says:\n\n \u201cThe tax imposed on natives by Cakobau\u2019s government was a\n uniform poll tax of \u00a31 per man and 4s. per woman throughout the\n group. I, however, find it difficult, and indeed impossible,\n to suppose that revenue was the object contemplated in the\n imposition of this tax, or that its payment was ever seriously\n looked for. If any such expectations existed, they were doomed\n to disappointment. The largest sum ever obtained in any one\n year from a population of, at one time, certainly not less than\n 150,000, was \u00a36000, and of this sum a large part, as I will\n presently explain, was not, in fact, received from natives as\n payment of their tax, or indeed from natives at all.\n\n \u201cI believe that the main design of the native poll-tax, when\n first imposed, and as it existed on the arrival of the British\n Commissioners in Fiji in 1874, was that of furnishing through\n its instrumentality a large supply of labour to the plantations\n of the white settlers. And in this respect it no doubt worked\n successfully. The unknown consequences of disobedience to the\n \u2018Matanitu\u2019 (the equivalent of the Indian \u2018Sircar\u2019) exercised a\n mysterious terror over the minds of the natives, which induced\n them in many cases, in consideration of the advance of their\n taxes on the part of a planter, to contract with him for a year\n or more of gratuitous service. These, however, were of course\n the exceptions. In the majority of cases, the tax was simply\n not paid, and could not be paid. When this happened the legal\n penalty for default was six months\u2019 imprisonment, which was\n spent in labour on the plantation of any settler who would pay\n to the Government the amount of the defaulter\u2019s tax. But though\n six months was the limit allowed by law for such assignment,\n the magistrates of that day were not very scrupulous in their\n reading of the Act, and sentences of a year, and even eighteen\n months, seem to have been pronounced; while by the imposition\n of heavy costs, and the assumption that the default of their\n payment might be similarly punished by \u2018imprisonment on a\n plantation,\u2019 even these periods were almost indefinitely\n extended.\n\n \u201cSir H. Robinson felt strongly the impossibility of maintaining\n such a system, which he rightly described as one by which the\n services of the entire male population of whole districts\n had been in effect sold to European planters in other and\n distant islands. He at once abolished it, and substituted an\n arrangement by which all but adult males were excused from\n taxation, and the tax of these men fixed at twenty days\u2019 labour\n in the year, redeemable by money payments of various amounts,\n according to the supposed wealth, or poverty, of the district\n in which they lived.\n\n \u201cThis, therefore, was the problem which I had presented to me:\n Should I continue the labour-tax of 1874; should I re-enact and\n attempt to enforce the direct tax in money of the old Fijian\n Government; or should I endeavour to provide some substitute\n for the existing system which should bring larger returns to\n the treasury, and yet be neither oppressive nor opposed to the\n traditionary habits and feelings of the people?\n\n \u201cThe labour-tax in its existing form was clearly unsustainable.\n It is impossible to transport the whole population for twenty\n days to those places where public works are being carried on.\n Such places are few, and in most districts of the colony there\n are really no public works on which the inhabitants can be\n employed. In such cases either works have to be invented which\n are not needed, and which lead to an employment\u2014(or rather a\n waste)\u2014of labour in no way beneficial to the colony, as well as\n an expense of supervision wholly thrown away, or the tax must\n be quietly permitted to fall into disuse.\n\n \u201cThe practical alternative, therefore, was the renewal of the\n poll-tax of the old Fijian Government, or the substitution of\n some as yet untried system.\n\n \u201cIf the idea of re-enacting a poll-tax be abandoned, no other\n direct money-tax could be imposed. In fact, there is a species\n of absurdity in the imposition of pecuniary taxation on a\n population, nine-tenths of which possess no money. I know\n it has been said that if they do not possess money, they,\n at least, might all become possessed of it by engaging to\n work for planters. I confess I am unable to see the force of\n this assumption. The ordinary wages given by a planter to an\n able-bodied man were, in 1875, 1s. a week, or \u00a32, 12s. per\n annum. This is a small sum from which to pay a tax ranging from\n \u00a31 downwards, even if the wages be paid in money, and not, as\n was invariably the case, in \u2018trade,\u2019 of often questionable\n value. Whether it is to the native\u2019s advantage to leave\n his _taro_ patch and yam plantations, his own village, his\n generally comfortable home, and his family, to work on some\n distant estate for 52s. a-year, may be questioned; nor do I\n think he can reasonably be expected to do so, except under\n strong compulsion.\u201d\n\nSir Arthur proceeds to give some of the reasons which led to his deciding\non the \u201cdistrict garden\u201d scheme. With regard to its practical working, he\nadds\u2014\n\n \u201cThe receipts from the native taxes, which in 1875, under the\n old system of collection, amounted to but \u00a33499, 2s. 5d.,\n reached in 1876 (during only a part of which year the new\n scheme was in operation) the sum of \u00a39342, 16s. 3d., in 1877\n that of \u00a315,149, 14s. 8d., and in 1878 amounted to nearly\n \u00a319,000. The exact figures for this last year have not yet\n reached me.\n\n \u201cThe expenses incurred in 1877 in collecting and shipping the\n produce to Levuka, and in payment of the eighteen persons\n engaged in these duties, amounted to \u00a31341, 11s. 9d. A further\n expenditure was also incurred for the purchase and gratuitous\n distribution of seed, tools, bags, &c., amounting to \u00a3386, 5s.\n 10d. I have not yet received the accounts for 1878, but if the\n expenses be assumed as equal to those of 1877, there will be a\n clear profit to the Treasury on this tax of over \u00a317,000, while\n the expenses of collection will not have reached \u00a32000.\n\n \u201cLet us turn, however, to the more important question of the\n social influence of the new law.\n\n \u201cTo answer this question, the nature and working of its\n machinery must be first described.\n\n \u201cThe amount of the tax to be paid by each province, estimated\n in pounds sterling, is annually assessed by the Legislative\n Council, the assessment being based, as regards each province,\n on mixed considerations of the amount of the population, the\n nature and productiveness of the soil, and the degree of\n civilisation which the province has attained.\n\n \u201cThere are twelve such provinces, not including the two\n highland districts of Viti Levu.\n\n \u201cTenders are called for, for the purchase of the articles of\n produce in which the tax may be paid.\n\n \u201cThese articles have hitherto been: _coppra_, cotton,\n candle-nuts, tobacco, and maize; to these, coffee, which the\n natives have now begun to grow largely, will soon be added.\n _B\u00eache de mer_ has also been accepted from some places.\n\n \u201cThe highest tender is accepted in the case of each article,\n and to the successful tenderer all the produce delivered or\n collected in discharge of the tax is transferred on its receipt\n by Government.\n\n \u201cThe amount of the assessment fixed, and the prices offered\n for various articles of produce by the successful tenderer or\n tenderers, are intimated to the Roko Tui or native governor of\n each province.\n\n \u201cThe apportionment of the shares to be borne by each district\n in the province, and the selection of the article or articles\n of produce to be contributed, are then made, nominally and\n according to law, by a Board appointed under the Ordinance, but\n practically by the _Bose vaka Yasana_, or Provincial Council,\n which, as I have previously explained, consists of chiefs of\n districts, styled \u2018_Bulis_,\u2019 under the presidency of the Roko\n Tui, frequently, though not always, aided by the presence of\n the Governor\u2019s Commissioner.\n\n \u201cThe next stage is the apportionment of the tax of each\n district by the _Bose ni Tikina_, or District Council,\n consisting of the town chief of the district, under the\n presidency of the _Buli_. By this body the share of each\n several township in the district is determined.\n\n \u201cLastly, the individual share of produce to be contributed or\n work done by each family in each village is settled by the town\n chief, aided by the elders of the township.\n\n \u201cThe mode in which the articles are raised is left to the\n people themselves to determine, and the methods adopted have\n been very various. In some places each village has grown its\n own tax produce along with what it grew for sale or domestic\n use; in others, several villages have combined to grow their\n produce in one large plantation. These latter are what, by\n those who wish to discredit the scheme, are called \u2018Government\n gardens,\u2019 but, in fact, no such gardens exist. The soil and the\n produce both belong to the people themselves.\n\n \u201cThis machinery recognises the primitive community system,\n on which all political and social institutions in Fiji are\n based, and which, even in the matter of taxation, I found to\n be still in use as regarded the rates for local purposes,\n such as payment of school-masters and village police, which,\n quite irrespectively of the Government (and, as some would\n say, illegally), were imposed by the Provincial Councils in a\n species of voluntary assessment.\n\n \u201cThis species of taxation is, consequently, familiar to the\n natives, and thoroughly understood by them,\u2014a fact which\n causes the pressure of the impost to be more lightly felt\n than it would be if demanded directly from the individual by\n the Government. It, moreover, renders the natives themselves,\n to a very large extent, active and responsible agents in the\n collection of revenue.\n\n \u201cBoth of these are, I need hardly say, points of very\n considerable importance.\n\n \u201cBut these were not the only results which the system was\n aimed to effect, nor are they the only objects which have been\n attained by its adoption.\n\n \u201cAs was anticipated by the framers of the Ordinance, the\n cultivation of articles of export by the natives has been\n largely promoted.\n\n \u201cFijians are by no means habitually indolent, as by many\n careless observers they are supposed to be; and they are\n passionately fond of agriculture: but their cultivation,\n though very neat and careful, is chiefly that of food\n plantations and articles for domestic use.\n\n \u201cSugar, tobacco, and the paper mulberry are, and have long\n been, almost universally grown in addition to root crops and\n plantains; but they are not, as a rule, grown with a view to\n exportation; although cocoa-nuts have been manufactured into\n _coppra_, and yams in large quantities have long been sold, or\n rather bartered, by the natives, to the white traders.\n\n \u201cUnder the new system, the area of native cultivation is\n rapidly increasing, and the lesson which it was desired to\n inculcate has been already more than partially learnt.\n\n \u201cAnother consequence of the adoption of this law has been that\n of giving to the people a juster idea of the value of the\n produce which they raise.\n\n \u201cWhen a money-tax was insisted on, it was necessary that at\n certain fixed periods every man should make a payment in cash\n to the tax collector.\n\n \u201cVery few natives (except perhaps in the province of Lau) hoard\n or possess coin. Their wealth consists in the accumulation of\n masses of property, not in money; and as the day on which the\n coin had to be produced came round, an unscrupulous itinerant\n trader (and such traders are not always remarkable for a high\n tone of commercial morality) could obtain almost anything,\n and almost any amount of anything in the possession or under\n the control of natives, in exchange for the coveted and\n indispensable piece of coin necessary to pay the tax. That coin\n the trader sold as an article of barter on his own terms, and\n those terms were usually hard ones.\n\n \u201cEven at the best of times, when this pressure did not exist,\n the native only received about half the price which the very\n same traders, with the knowledge they still will obtain a\n handsome profit by their purchase, are now ready to give to the\n Government for a similar amount of produce.\n\n \u201cThis has opened the eyes of the natives, and in their private\n trading transactions they now in many cases ask and obtain\n prices more nearly resembling the true market value of the\n article; while for the surplus produce raised by them of those\n articles in which the tax is paid, beyond what is required to\n meet it, the Government practically obtains for them a price\n equal to that which it receives itself from the contractor for\n the tax produce; and that too paid in cash, and not (as had\n previously been the case) in goods which the trader valued at\n his own discretion. As I have before observed, the details of\n last year\u2019s operations have not yet reached me, but I know\n that several hundred pounds were in this manner gained by one\n locality alone in 1877.\n\n \u201cSince this paragraph was written\u2014indeed this very morning\u2014I\n have received letters from Fiji which inform me that the\n amount of tax produce sent in during 1878 in payment of taxes,\n in excess of the amount required to meet the demands of the\n assessment, and which has been sold for the benefit of those\n contributing to it, has realised between \u00a31500 and \u00a32000.\n\n \u201cIt may seem strange when thus speaking of apparently large\n transactions between the natives and white traders, that there\n should have been any difficulty on the part of the former in\n finding money to pay a money-tax; but in point of fact hardly\n any money was received by them. Objectionable as it seems to\n be thought by some to receive produce instead of money _from_\n the natives, these same parties see no objection to forcing\n _on_ the natives as payment for their produce imported goods\n estimated at a wholly fictitious value.\n\n \u201cA native, we will suppose, makes and wishes to dispose of\n _coppra_, which he offers to the white trader who \u2018works\u2019 that\n district. Say he has got half a ton. This, according to present\n prices paid to the Government, would be worth \u00a36, 10s.\n\n \u201cThe trader probably offers about \u00a33 (until, perhaps, very\n lately, it certainly would not have been more, and probably\n less), and this he pays in cloth, knives, &c., of which he\n estimates the value at perhaps double the proper amount; so\n that he obtains \u00a36, 10s. worth of produce from the native for\n goods worth \u00a31, 10s.\n\n \u201cThe native was often aware he was imposed on; but until the\n new system of taxation was introduced he had no alternative but\n to take what was offered, or leave his produce unsold.\n\n \u201cHe can now sell at the prices which have been publicly\n tendered.\n\n \u201cThe system of making an unduly large profit is so regularly\n recognised, that, in most of the shops in Levuka itself, there\n was in 1875 a \u2018native price\u2019 on articles, which was usually\n _double_ the amount which would be asked of a European. There\n is still, I am informed, a \u2018native price;\u2019 but whether the\n disproportion between it and that asked of white customers is\n as great as formerly, I am not aware.\n\n \u201cThe action of the Government affords a most valuable\n protection to the native producer, by insuring him a market\n where he will receive cash for his produce at a fair rate; and,\n paradoxical as it may seem, it is, nevertheless, strictly true\n that the reception by the Government of produce in payment of\n taxes has been an important step towards the introduction of\n cash transactions in the dealings between the traders and the\n natives....\n\n \u201cIt does not require half an eye to perceive that the people\n have thriven under the new system. Everywhere the increased\n areas of cultivation, the enlarged towns, the good new\n houses, the well-kept roads, the cheerful and healthy-looking\n population, present the strongest possible contrast to the\n aspect of the country in 1875. This was fully admitted to\n me, not long before I left Fiji, by a leading planter, who\n said that nobody who had eyes in his head could deny that\n the natives were very much better off than they were three\n years ago; but he added (and there was much significance in\n the admission), that this was by no means an advantage to the\n planter, whose difficulties in obtaining labour were thereby\n materially increased.\n\n \u201cNot three years have since passed by, and already we see that\n it has secured an ample revenue, that it has stimulated the\n industry, and has doubled the produce, of the colony; that\n under it the population are more prosperous than they have\n been for a long time, and are, notwithstanding the incessant\n efforts of mischief-makers, content and trustful, as they will,\n I firmly believe, continue to be.\n\n \u201cI am especially desirous that it should not be forgotten\n that this is but one in a series of measures which should be\n regarded together as a whole, and which have for their objects\n the preservation and social development of the native race.\n\n \u201cA. H. G.\u201d\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n[Illustration: FIJI ARCHIPELAGO\n\nA. C. ARMSTRONG & SON. NEW YORK.]\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES\n\n\n[1] The present population of Fiji, in 1880, is estimated at 110,000\nnatives, 1902 Europeans, and 3200 Polynesians.\n\n[2] From a Paper read before the Royal Colonial Institute, 18th March\n1879.\n\n[3] The revenue for 1879 was estimated at \u00a375,150.\n\n[4] In Morayshire.\n\n[5] Set all awry, in token of the death of her Commander.\n\n[6] _M\u00e9k\u00e9_ describes either a song or a dance, or both combined.\n\n[7] Acanthaster solaris.\n\n[8] This little beginning promises to become an extensive movement, a\nvisit from Bishop Selwyn having stirred up interest in the matter. I\nhear that the Chief Justice, and a considerable number of young men, now\nattend the afternoon meeting as teachers, with the happiest results, the\nimmigrants fully appreciating the kindly feeling thus shown to them.\n\n[9] More probably derived from the same root as the Maori word _kuri_,\ndog.\n\n[10] _Ivi_\u2014Inocarpus edulis.\n\n[11] _Ndelo_\u2014Calophyllum-inophyllum.\n\n[12] _Vutu_\u2014Barringtonia.\n\n[13] _Tavola_\u2014Terminalia.\n\n[14] This statement was repeated so often, that at last Dr Macgregor,\ncurious to discover a cause for so strange a fact, took the trouble to\nweigh six ounces of the root, which he gave to be chewed in the usual\nmanner. When deposited in the bowl he weighed it again, and found\nit had increased to seventeen ounces! The inference is obvious, and\nneeds no comment. After this discovery the drinking of yangona (_Piper\nmethisticum_) fell greatly out of favour with the gentlemen of our party,\nand was principally reserved for ceremonial occasions.\n\n[15] That such fears would not be groundless, you may readily infer from\nthe following horrible story reported last year in the \u2018Levuka Times\u2019:\n\u201cNews reaches us from windward of a sad accident which has resulted in\nthe death of upwards of twenty people. It appears that a canoe left Loma\nLoma with twenty-five natives on board, bound for Totoya. They were going\nabout when a sudden squall sent the sail against the mast, capsizing the\ncanoe. The unfortunate passengers clung to the _cama_, and might have\nescaped with consequences no worse than those which would have attended\ndiscomfort and exposure, but for the horrible fact that the capsize\noccurred in a locality infested with sharks. These ravenous monsters\nseized their victims one by one, devouring twenty-three out of the\ntwenty-five unfortunates whose lives were thus placed at their mercy. Of\nthe two who escaped, one is a woman; but her situation is very critical,\nthe whole of the flesh having been taken off one leg. The matter is\naltogether too dreadful to admit of comment.\u201d\n\n[16] A Hunter\u2019s Life in South Africa. By Roualeyn Gordon Cumming.\n\n[17] _Palolo viridis._\n\n[18] Viti Levu\u2014pronounce Veetee Layvoo.\n\n[19] Before we left the isle, Captain Knollys succeeded in drilling a\nset of men to carry Lady Gordon in a wicker-chair; and on the occasion\nof certain special festivities in the town a second chair was rigged up\nfor me. So probably future residents will have chairs and bearers, as a\nmatter of course.\n\n[20] _I.e._, the root of the _drala_-tree.\n\n[21] It was at this town that Jackson (an Englishman, who, thirty\nyears ago, was detained among these people for two years) witnessed an\nincident of peculiar interest, as an illustration of sacrifice to the\nEarth spirits,\u2014a custom which British antiquarians tell us was formerly\npractised by our own pagan ancestors, and of which traces have till very\nrecently lingered among us. A new house was about to be built for the\nchief, Tui Drekete, and the people assembled from all tributary villages\nto bring their offerings, and dance and make merry. A series of large\nholes were dug, to receive the main posts of the house; and as soon as\nthese were reared, a number of wretched men were led to the spot, and\none was compelled to descend into each hole, and therein stand upright,\nwith his arms clasped round it. The earth was then filled in, and the\nmiserable victims were thus buried alive, deriving what comfort they\nmight from the belief that the task thus assigned to them was one of\nmuch honour, as insuring stability to the chiefs house. The same idea\nprevailed with respect to launching a chiefs canoe, when the bodies of\nliving men were substituted for ordinary rollers\u2014a scene which Jackson\nalso witnessed, and quotes to prove how cruelly the tributary tribes\nwere treated by these Rewa chiefs, one of whom he accompanied to a\nneighbouring isle. They came to a place called Na ara Bale (meaning \u201cto\ndrag over,\u201d literally corresponding to our own Tarbert), a low, narrow\nisthmus, joining two islands together. By dragging the canoes across\nthis half-mile of dry land, they were saved a long row round the island.\nOn landing, they found the villagers entertaining the people of another\nvillage which had fallen under the displeasure of Rewa, and at the\nbidding of the chief these people allowed their guests to be surprised in\nthe night, when forty were captured; and each being bound hand and foot\nto the stems of banana-trees, were then laid as rollers, face uppermost,\nalong the path by which the canoes were to be dragged across the isthmus.\nThe shrieks of the victims were drowned by the hauling songs of their\ncaptors, and, with one exception, all were crushed to death. One poor\nwretch lingered awhile in torture till the ovens were made ready, in\nwhich all were cooked, the guests of the previous day affording the feast\nfor this.\n\n[22] The ridge-pole of a new house is frequently wreathed with long\ntrails of the exquisite God-fern, the _Wa Kalo_.\n\n[23] I think the most incongruous instance that has come under our notice\nof this adoption of certain English goods, was when a large number of\nthe wild heathen mountaineers assembled to meet the Governor\u2014many of\nthem atoning for lack of raiment by the care bestowed on their mass of\nhair dressed in upright spiral curls, which makes the head resemble a\ngigantic mop. Of course during the interview they remained bareheaded (as\nessential a mark of respect in Fiji as is a huge turban in India). But\nwhen they subsequently replaced the accustomed veil of thin gauze-like\n_tappa_, they proceeded to tie it up with red tape, little dreaming what\nvisions of dull routine were therewith connected in the minds of the\nwhite strangers.\n\n[24] Mr Mandslay told us of some very quaint _m\u00e9k\u00e9s_ sung by the children\nat Nandi. They were reciting their lesson in natural history, and related\nmany novel facts wholly unknown to science, concerning birds and insects,\nwhose cries and songs they imitated. They specially described the\nmosquito, by humming and buzzing, all in measured time, and with uniform\naction, clapping their arms, and legs, and bodies, as if smarting from\nbites. Then, as if irritated beyond endurance, they threw their arms\nwildly about, till in despair they ceased, as if nerved for endurance,\nand resigned themselves to listen to the mosquito\u2019s songs, whereupon the\nmosquitoes applauded their patience, and shouted _Vinaka! Vinaka!_ (good!\ngood!) The mosquito, it seems, is the only creature that truly mourns for\nman, for he can no longer drink his blood and sing songs to him; whereas\nother beasts rejoice over his death as that of a foe, more especially\nthe ants, to whom his teeth are as precious as those of a whale are to a\nFijian!\n\n[25] In Northern China I find the same greeting, \u201c_Ypaisui!_\u201d \u201cMay you\nlive a thousand years!\u201d\n\n[26] These are tales of the past. We must now look nearer home to find\nsuch barbarity. In the long series of atrocities which, within the\nlast few months, have distressed Ireland (the shooting of landlords\nand burning of property), one incident has forcibly reminded me of\npre-Christian days in Fiji, when a poor fellow having been put in charge\nof a house from which the tenant had been evicted, five or six men in\nmasks entered the house, seized him and nailed him to the door by his\nears, which they then cut off. And among the trifling incidents of daily\nlife, we hear of ladies and clergymen being pelted with large stones, and\npursued for long distances, solely for having ventured to examine the\nProtestant schools. Whether do you consider Ireland or Fiji the safer\nplace of residence in this year of grace 1880?\n\n[27] We happily escaped any severe hurricane during the two years I\nremained in the group; but the following extract from the \u2018Times\u2019 tells\nof a storm at the close of 1879 which proves that the oft-told stories of\ndevastation and ruin which at last we heard almost incredulously, were\nonly too true. The labours of years were all swept away in a few hours,\nand crops of every sort totally destroyed.\n\n\u201cCYCLONE IN THE PACIFIC.\u2014A storm in December did very great damage in\nFiji. The banana plantations were laid level with the ground. At Naida\na tidal wave went two miles into the bush, sweeping away and destroying\neverything before it. The cutter Alarm was washed up into the bush. The\nByron, cutter, foundered at Nunda Point, and the owner, Mr M\u2019Pherson,\nand one Fijian were drowned. Among the drowned was also J. B. Grundy,\nmanager to Mr William Bailey. S. L. P. Winter and two Fijians were lost\nin a half-decked boat at Bau. Two natives were drowned and every house\nblown down at Radmarre and Madroch. The whole country is described as\ndenuded of timber, and the native food crops destroyed. Her Majesty\u2019s\nship Emerald, which had on board Sir Arthur Gordon and suite, _en route_\nfor Rototumah, encountered a cyclone off that island, but managed to\nweather it safely. The Stanley, of Queensland, 113 tons register, caught\nthe full force of the late gale. She had 150 islanders on board for Fiji,\nwho were kept under battened hatches for thirty hours at a time. Fifty\nsubsequently died, and one committed suicide on being discharged from\nLevuka Hospital. Ten more deaths were expected.\u201d\n\n[28] \u201cWe shall meet again.\u201d\n\n[29] A few weeks after his arrival in Ceylon, Sir William Hackett died at\nthe dreary rest-house in Newera Elya. Enfeebled by long residence in the\ntropics, he was unable to rally from an attack of illness which he deemed\ntoo trivial for care. So passed away a just judge, and a man who had made\nhimself greatly respected in the little infant colony, whose code of laws\nhe had been selected to draw up and administer.\n\n[30] In old heathen days the tattooing of a woman was as important and\ncompulsory a religious ceremony as the circumcision of a lad. Special\npenalties in the future world awaited the woman who contrived to evade\nthis rite. Retributive furies armed with sharp shells would fall on her\nand tear her flesh for ever and ever.\n\n[31] At a great meeting of chiefs at Bau in January 1880, on the return\nof Sir Arthur Gordon from England, the _menu_ included 104 pigs and a\nlarge shark, cooked whole; I suppose the latter is the modern substitute\nfor the _bokola_ of old days, without which a feast would have been\nthought poor indeed. The speech made by the Vuni Valu on this occasion is\nworthy of note. At the conclusion he said, addressing the still powerful\nchiefs: \u201cNow you have plenty of money, the native officials receive their\nsalaries regularly, the people are flourishing and have plenty of goods.\nYou chiefs are at rest mentally, not as of old. Need I ask you, Is it\na good thing to be under Great Britain? Would any one like to change\nagain, I ask? Let any one who will, speak, lest it should be said we have\nbeen deceived or robbed. It is not so. We still hold our positions. The\nchiefs still are chiefs, whilst the people are better off than they ever\nwere before. If we had not given ourselves to Great Britain, we should\nprobably have been at war among ourselves long ago. Let no man say we\nhave given away our rights. No; we have secured them.\u201d\n\n[32] I believe the annexation of Rotumah to England has now been decided\non.\n\n[33] _Casurina._\n\n[34] I regret to have to add the name of Dr Cruikshank to the number of\nthose who have passed away in their prime. He died at Levuka in 1880.\n\n[35] I sent home seed, or morsels of seed-bearing frond, of many rare and\nbeautiful ferns, but notwithstanding all the care bestowed on them by\nexperienced gardeners, I do not believe that one has survived the voyage.\n\n[36] Since writing the above, I have seen two springs of pure cold water\non the summit of the dormant volcano of Fuji Yama, in Japan, at an\naltitude of about 13,000 feet; also those in Haleakala, the great extinct\nvolcano in the Sandwich Isles\u2014altitude 10,000 feet\u2014whence it would appear\nto be the nature of extinct volcanoes to produce such springs.\n\n[37] The demon drink did its work, and this magnificent chief died not\nlong after the above was written. He is succeeded in his rank and office\nby Ratu Lala, his son by Andi Eleanor\u2014a fine young fellow, who has been\nbrought up in the special care of Mr Thurston, and has received a sound\nEnglish education at Sydney. A short account of his installation as Roko\nof the district will be found at the close of this letter.\n\n[38] In truth, such scenes as these often carried me back in fancy\nto our own Northern Isles as they must have appeared 1300 years ago,\nwhen St Columba came over from Ireland to Scotland in his open canoe,\ncovered with hides, to preach Christianity to the wild heathen tribes\nof Caledonia; the \u201cpainted men\u201d (whether tattooed or merely dyed,\nmatters little), whom he found living in huts, probably more miserable\nthan these, and clothed, not as here in paper-cloth, but in the skins\nof wolves and wild deer, and possibly wearing, as their most treasured\nornament, a wild boar\u2019s tusk, much as these people do. We know that the\ncelebrated monastery on Iona was merely a collection of huts clustered\nround just such a humble wattled church as the one here described; and\nhaving seen these, I can readily accept the tradition which ascribes to\nSt Columba the foundation of three hundred churches, half in Scotland,\nand the rest in Ireland. For wherever he or his disciples travelled, they\nestablished new monasteries on the model of Iona, and these in their turn\nsent forth teachers, who preached everywhere; and each tribe or clan\nthat accepted the new faith, built for itself a church of wattle-work;\nand the building was kept up, and the priest was supported by voluntary\ncontributions of the clansmen, paid either in kind or in labour, just as\nthe teachers of a Fijian village are paid to-day. And as in the olden\ndays a very few advanced villages would make a mighty effort to build a\nstone church, such as the famous _Candida Casa_ of St Ninian in Galloway,\nor the \u201cWhite Kirk of Buchan,\u201d so here, with far less reason or comfort,\na zealous tribe will (happily in but few instances) exert itself to the\nutmost to distinguish itself by building a \u201cWhite Church\u201d of coral-lime\u2014a\nlandmark to be discerned from afar.\n\n[39] At the request of Professor Liversidge, of the Sydney University, I\nasked Dr Bromlow, of H.M.S. Sapphire, to take water from these springs\nfor analysis. The following table gives the proportion of salts in a\nmillion parts of water, or milligrammes per litre:\u2014\n\n Silica, insoluble, 131.33\n \u201d soluble, 5.78\n Alumina and traces of iron, 74.92\n Chlorine, 4506.06\n Calcium, 1428.84\n Magnesium, 3.04\n Potassium, 72.03\n Sodium, 1298.28\n Sulphuric acid, 219.29\n Undetermined or loss, 73.34\n\nFrom the foregoing it will be seen that the greater part of the salts in\nsolution consists of the chlorides of calcium and sodium.\n\n[40] This ceremony is called _bole bole_, meaning to challenge.\n\n[41] This is by no means an exceptional instance. A favour conferred\nseems to be generally considered as giving a claim to further kindness.\nThe experience of the missionaries has always been, that if their medical\nskill availed to restore the sick to health, their patients considered\nthemselves entitled to receive food and raiment, and also to have a\nright to demand anything else they fancied. Mr Calvert quotes the case\nof a native whose hand was shattered by the bursting or a musket. The\ncaptain of a small fishing vessel took pity on the sufferer, had his hand\namputated, and kept him on board for two months. At parting, the patient\ntold the captain that he must give him a musket, in consideration of his\nhaving stayed on board so long; and on this being refused, the man went\nashore and proved his sense of obligation by burning the drying-houses in\nwhich his benefactor stored his fish.\n\n[42] Last year this flock had increased to about two thousand five\nhundred head; and so excellent is the quality of fine long silky hair\nyielded, that at the great International Exhibition, held at Sydney in\n1880, the second award for Angora hair was made to R. B. Leefe of Nananu.\n\n[43] By recent accounts, I hear that much of this cotton has again been\ntaken into cultivation, and that large areas of the flat land near the\nRaki Raki river have now been ploughed and turned into a sugar plantation.\n\n[44] Since the above was written, the home at Nananu has shared in this\ntoo common fate. A few months later, the family were awakened by sudden\ncry of fire, and, as usual with houses of such combustible material,\na few moments sufficed to reduce the pleasant Robinson Crusoe home to\nashes. The long-treasured piano, books, knick-knacks, all irreplaceable\ntreasures, were gone, and the family left with only the night-dresses in\nwhich they stood. Of course it does not take long to rebuild a house in\nthe Fijian style, and perhaps the new house is better than the ramshackle\nold place; but in so remote a home, new ornaments and books and keepsakes\naccumulate slowly; \u201cand we cannot buy with gold the old associations.\u201d\n\n[45] We flattered ourselves that our description and illustration were\nfully understood; but evidently the design had originated in some other\ndistrict; for when, a few weeks later, the specimens I had ordered were\nsent to Nasova, I received a dozen hideous articles of ponderous weight,\nutterly worthless. These people can only carry out their own ideas.\n\n[46] _Solanum anthropophagorum._ It was also commonly used by the\ncannibal Maoris of New Zealand.\n\n[47] Tin can.\n\n[48] This fine chief died suddenly during the great meeting of chiefs at\nBan in January 1880.\n\n[49] Wheels are no longer unknown in Levuka. A passable road having at\nlength been constructed along the beach, a covered cab now plies to and\nfro between the furthest point of the settlement and the Government\noffices at Nasova, a distance of nearly two miles, carrying passengers\nat 6d. a-head. Among further symptoms of progress in 1880, I note the\nopening of a hotel on the upper Rewa River, and another in Taviuni; also\nthe establishment of regular steam communication all over the group, as\nalso with Tonga, New Zealand, and Sydney.\n\n[50] _Metrosideros tomentosa._\n\n[51] During ten years of travel among brown and yellow races of every\nhue, continually spending long days alone with my paint-box in most wild\nand remote places, I have always done so fearlessly, being convinced\nthat among these people a white woman leads a charmed life. While\nrevising these pages I have received awful proof to the contrary from the\nfollowing paragraph in the \u2018Times:\u2019\u2014\n\n\u201cAN ENGLISH LADY MURDERED IN NEW ZEALAND.\u2014New Zealand newspapers to hand\nby the last mail contain details of the murder of Miss Mary Beatrice\nDobie, daughter of the late Major H. M. Dobie, of the Madras Army, by a\nMaori at Taranaki, New Zealand, on the 25th of November. Miss Dobie, who\nwas twenty-six years of age, formerly resided at Irthington, Cumberland,\nwith her mother and sisters. At the time of the murder she was staying\nwith her brother-in-law, Major Goring, and her mother. On the afternoon\nof the 25th of November, Miss Dobie had gone out for a walk towards\nTe Ngamu, and as she did not return a search-party was organised, and\nbonfires were lighted along the coast-line. The body was found forty\nyards off the main road. The throat was cut from ear to ear and life was\nextinct. Near the body was a bunch of wild-flowers, evidently gathered by\nthe deceased. The ground showed traces of a desperate struggle, and the\nflax-bushes were bespattered with blood. The spot is a very lonely one,\nabout a hundred yards from an uninhabited house at Te Ngamu. An inquest\nwas held, at which evidence was given implicating a Maori named Tuhi, who\nsubsequently confessed to the crime. Miss Dobie, who was well known in\nAuckland, had gone to the place where she lost her life for the purpose\nof sketching Ngamu Bay. She was an ardent admirer of New Zealand scenery,\nand many of her sketches have appeared in the \u2018Graphic.\u2019\u201d\n\nThis sad story comes home to me the more vividly as this attractive and\naccomplished lady visited Fiji with an elder sister shortly after my\ndeparture. They were for some time guests of Sir Arthur Gordon at Nasova,\nwhence they made expeditions to many parts of the group, and afterwards\nproceeded to New Zealand to join their relations.\n\n[52] He did, however, return with us to Fiji, and shortly afterwards was\nsent home in command of his men. He died in Edinburgh, not long after his\nreturn.\n\n[53] Here is the analysis of a famous sulphur-bath at Sulphur Point,\nabout a mile from Ohinemutu. The cures it has effected are so wonderful\nand undoubted that it is generally known as The Painkiller.\n\n_Analysis._\u2014Sulphate of potash, 2.96; of soda, 34.37; chloride of sodium,\n59.16; of calcium, 3.33; of magnesia, 1.27; of iron, 0.25; silica, 16.09;\nhydrochloric acid, 7.60; sulphuretted hydrogen, 2.01: traces of phosphate\nof alumina, lithium, and iodine;\u2014total, 127.04.\n\n[54] Since the above was written I have spent two months in the Hawaiian\nIsles, and have lived a never-to-be-forgotten week on the very brink\nof the great active crater. I consider that it is wellnigh impossible\nto compare the two scenes, and that in order to obtain a just idea of\nvolcanic forces it is highly desirable to visit both\u2014that is to say,\nsuch an active volcano as that on Hawaii, and such groups of geysers and\nsolfataras as those of New Zealand. In the former, nature admits you, as\nit were, to her mighty arsenal, and suffers you to stand and gaze while\nshe is in the very act of forging the strong ribs of the earth. There\nshe shows you sometimes a vast lake of molten fire\u2014liquid lava\u2014sometimes\ndancing fire-fountains\u2014sometimes all beauty, at others all awe; blackness\nof darkness, sulphureous fumes, fearful detonations; sometimes a column\nof fire shooting heavenwards, and falling to earth to pour down the\nmountain-side in overwhelming streams of fluid fire. Her finished works,\ntoo, the varied lava-beds, whether smooth or contorted, are unlike any\nother scenes in creation.\n\nBut nowhere on Hawaii have I seen or heard of anything in the slightest\ndegree resembling the strange and beautiful objects to be seen in the\nvolcanic region of New Zealand\u2014which, like that of the Yellowstone in\nAmerica, seems to be nature\u2019s laboratory, where chemical experiments of\nall sorts are being tried on a gigantic scale, producing things of beauty\nin infinite variety.\n\n[55] Lygodium reticulatum.\n\n[56] Lady Rachel.\n\n[57] News has recently been received that four of these native teachers\nhave been treacherously murdered and eaten by the cannibal people of the\nDuke of York Island, on which they, with their wives and little ones,\nhad settled in the hope of forming a separate mission. The murderers\nthreatened also to kill and eat the widows and orphans, and urged the\nnatives of New Britain likewise to dispose of their teachers, and\nespecially of the white missionary. The latter, being a Christian of the\nmuscular type, deemed it wise, once for all, to teach these murderers\nthat the shedding of blood involves punishment in kind; so mustering\nhis little band of Fijian and Samoan catechists, he crossed over to the\noffending isle, rescued the widows and orphans, and routed the horde of\nsavages, who received a somewhat severe lesson on this occasion. These\ndistressing tidings reached Fiji just as a fresh detachment of teachers\nwas about to start for New Britain. Their determination was in no degree\nshaken. One of them expressed the feeling of all when he said: \u201cIf the\npeople of New Britain kill and eat my body, I shall go to a place where\nthere is no more pain or death; it is all right.\u201d One of the wives was\nasked whether she still intended to accompany her husband to a scene of\nso great danger; she replied: \u201cI am like the outrigger of a canoe\u2014where\nthe canoe goes, there you will surely find the outrigger!\u201d Brave\nhelpmeets these!\n\n[58] The Walai. _Entada scandens._\n\n[59] Great was the dismay and alarm of all the men who have gone into\ncoffee when a most promising estate was recently found to be infested\nwith that most grievous plague, the leaf disease. The estate was taken\npossession of by Government. All the bushes were burnt, the land strewed\nwith lime, and the place put into strictest quarantine, no man being\npermitted to set foot on it without a pass. It is hoped that these\nstringent measures may have proved effectual in stamping out the disease,\nwhich otherwise would blast all hope of success in this new undertaking.\n\n[60] Alas! a very few hours ended the struggle for life. Ere the vessel\nreached Sydney, one more of the little band, who in the spring of 1875\nleft England so full of high hope, had passed away, and his body was\ncommitted to the deep.\n\n[61] It may be considered a sure symptom of a reviving faith in the\ncommercial prospects of Fiji, that sundry capitalists in New South Wales\nare at this moment, 1880, engaged in the erection of large sugar-mills on\nthe Rewa, Raki Raki, and Taviuni, while others are in prospect. That on\nthe Rewa is the property of the Colonial Sugar Refining Company. All its\nappliances are to be of the most perfect description, and it is estimated\nthat its prime cost will be \u00a3100,000, that it will give employment to 100\nwhite men, and be capable of turning out 500 tons of sugar per month.\nSo at least we may now hope that the broad acres of sugar-cane will no\nlonger be left rotting in the ground for want of mills; and carriage will\nbe made easy by the use of steam-punts capable of navigating the rivers,\nand so collecting produce.\n\nIt will be strange indeed if the speaking results of collecting native\ntaxes in kind, instead of, as heretofore, in coin, does not give an\nimpetus to cultivators throughout the group. Mr J. B. Thurston, the\nColonial Secretary, who from the time of annexation has been the\nstrenuous advocate of this policy, says that when, about four years ago,\nhe distributed his first thirty bushels of maize to be sown in native\ngardens, he was laughed at, and asked if he ever expected to see a bushel\nof that maize grown? Last year he answered the question by exporting\n30,000 bushels, and sees no reason why the amount should not ere long\nbecome 300,000. Already the people have been taught to raise coffee,\ncotton, and sugar on these district gardens, with the result that where\nfive years ago the revenue derived from native taxes was almost nil, it\nlast year amounted to \u00a322,500.\n\n[62] The question whether it is desirable to introduce rabbits into the\ngroup is one that has caused much discussion. There are a multitude of\nsmall isles on which they might be reared with profit; but with the\nmelancholy example of the devastation caused by their introduction into\nAustralia, the danger is one not to be lightly incurred. We hear of\nlarge, once flourishing, stations in Victoria, which have been literally\nabandoned owing to the multitude of rabbits, where the attempt to raise\ncrops has been given up as hopeless. One estate, not far from Melbourne,\nformerly supported thirty thousand sheep. Now it scarcely yields grass\nfor five goats; and the man left in charge of the deserted house and\nfarm-buildings has to buy meat for himself and fodder for his horse. No\nwonder that the planters of Fiji do not care to introduce the rabbit here.\n\n[63] The sea-island cotton from Mago has now earned a world-wide\nreputation. It has gained the gold medal both at the Paris and\nPhiladelphia International Exhibitions. That Fijian cotton should receive\nsuch high honour in America is indeed a triumph.\n\n[64] Our police records have quite recently reported cases in which waxen\nimages have been moulded to represent persons against whom some miscreant\nhad a grudge. So late as 1870 a man at Beauly in Scotland was proved to\nhave made an image of clay, which he buried near the house of a farmer to\nwhom he owed a grudge, fully believing that, as the rain washed away the\nclay, so his enemy would pine and die. And in the same district a woman\nwas found sticking lumps of mud on the trees with the same object. In\n1872, two onions, stuck full of pins, and ticketed with the name of the\nintended victim, were found hidden in a chimney corner in Somerset. And\nas regards other forms of witchcraft, I have just heard (Aug. 1880) from\na large landowner in Skye, that he has had a letter from his tenants,\nsigned by several influential members of the Free Church, complaining of\na family\u2014a mother and five daughters\u2014who, by evil arts, take away the\nmilk from their cows. Of this elaborate proofs are given. The case was\nmentioned to another man of the same district, who was asked what he\nthought of it. He answered\u2014\u201cHe couldn\u2019t say. His own cow had recently\nbeen thus charmed; but he knew another _skeely_ woman, and sent for her.\nShe came and made a turn round the cow, and twined red worsted in its\ntail, and the milk came back. For this he paid her five shillings, but\nshe told him that her charm would only work for three months, and if\nafter that the cow ought still to be giving milk, she must be sent for\nagain!\u201d\n\nFor many curious statistics on these subjects, see \u2018From the Hebrides to\nthe Himalayas,\u2019 by C. F. Gordon Cumming.\n\n\n\n\nARMSTRONG & SON\u2019S LATEST PUBLICATIONS.\n\n\nI.\n\nLife and Speeches of John Bright.\n\nBy G. BARNETT SMITH.\n\n2 Steel Portraits, 1 vol., crown octavo, 708 pages, $2.50.\n\n The _London Times_ says: \u201cThis work will be welcomed by a large\n number of readers. The author has taken great pains to make the\n work at once accurate and full. _He has evidently had access to\n private sources of information, for he gives accounts of Mr.\n Bright\u2019s personal life that it would otherwise not have been\n possible to give...._ He has followed his subject through all\n the steps of his career.\u201d\n\n _London News_: \u201cIt is, in one sense, a history of England\n during the last half century.\u201d\n\n\nII.\n\nTHE NATURE AND FUNCTION OF ART.\n\nBy LEOPOLD EIDLITZ.\n\n1 vol., octavo, 510 pages, $4.00.\n\n \u201cMr. E. is a writer of remarkable strength and originality. His\n book may be classed as one of the most valuable contributions\n to Art Literature published during the last decade.... The work\n deals with the subject so broadly that any reader of artistic\n tendencies will find a fascination in its pages.\u201d\u2014_Boston\n Evening Transcript._\n\n\nIII.\n\nHISTORY OF RELIGION IN ENGLAND,\n\nFrom the Opening of the Long Parliament to the End of the 18th Century.\n\nBy JOHN STOUGHTON, D.D.\n\n6 vols., crown 8vo, $15.00. Comprising:\n\n I. Church of the Civil Wars.\n II. Church of the Commonwealth.\n III. & IV. Church of the Restoration.\n V. Church of the Revolution.\n VI. Church in the Georgian Era.\n\n \u201cThere is no need to eulogize Dr. Stoughton\u2019s learned research,\n impartiality, thoughtfulness, picturesque style, and thorough\n appreciation of the religious, political, and social life of\n the 17th century. The monographs of individual lives are simply\n charming. The characters, sketched with discrimination and\n vigor, seem to live and move before us. The human actors and\n their surroundings can be realized as distinctly in these pages\n as in any of the brilliant climatic passages of the elegant\n Macaulay.\u201d\u2014_Christian World._\n\n\nIV.\n\nIN PROSPECT OF SUNDAY.\n\nA Collection of Analyses, Arguments, Applications, Cautions, etc., for\nthe use of Preachers and Sunday School Teachers.\n\nBy Rev. G. S. BOWES.\n\n1 vol., 12mo, 438 pages, $1.50.\n\n\nV.\n\nUniform with our Standard Edition of Hallam, Lamb, Disraeli and Michaud\u2019s\nCrusades, a New and Handsome Library Edition of\n\nMILMAN\u2019S COMPLETE WORKS.\n\nWith Table of Contents and full Indexes. Printed from large type, on\nlaid, tinted paper, in 8 vols., crown 8vo, strongly bound in extra cloth,\nprice, $12.00 per set (reduced from $24.50). Comprising:\n\n\n _HISTORY OF THE JEWS, 2 Vols._\n _HISTORY OF CHRISTIANITY, 2 Vols._\n _HISTORY OF LATIN CHRISTIANITY, 4 Vols._\n\n Dr. Milman has won lasting popularity as a historian by\n his three great Works, \u201cHistory of the Jews,\u201d \u201cHistory of\n Christianity,\u201d and \u201cHistory of Latin Christianity.\u201d These works\n link on to each other, and bring the narrative down from the\n beginning of all history to the middle period of the modern\n era. They are the work of the scholar, a conscientious student,\n and a Christian philosopher.\n\n\nVI.\n\nArmstrong\u2019s Primer of United States History\n\nFOR SCHOOL AND FAMILY USE.\n\n1 vol., square 16mo, with 6 beautifully-colored Maps, from original\ndrawings. Price, 50 cents.\n\n \u201cA model historical primer, full in its statements,\n discriminating in its selection of events, clear and direct\n in its style, and comprehensive in its general outline of\n American affairs. The value of such a book is apparent at a\n glance. Of large histories of the United States there is no\n lack, but of shorter histories there is great need. A work of\n this character, thoroughly trustworthy in its statements, is\n of almost equal importance to the young student and to the\n general reader. It represents an amount of work of which its\n brief pages give no adequate impression. To condense, and yet\n to omit nothing essential to the complete statement of events,\n requires the fullest command of the subject and the most\n intelligent understanding of the mutual relations of all the\n facts involved. The writer of this primer was well qualified\n for his task.\u201d\u2014_N. Y. 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Bound in richly ornamented cloth, full gilt (in a neat box),\nprice, $10.00; turkey morocco, $20.00.\n\n\nTHE MAY BLOSSOM;\n\nOr, THE PRINCESS AND HER PEOPLE.\n\n64 pages colored plates in a quarto volume, handsomely bound.\nPrice, $2.50. Quite in advance of its predecessors in engraving and\ncolor-printing, from original paintings by the principal illustrator of\n\u201cAFTERNOON TEA.\u201d\n\n \u201cA fascinating book for children. Illustrations in the quaint\n fashions of the day. The pictures are exceedingly pretty, and\n the art of printing in colors has been applied to them with\n particularly brilliant and finished effect.\u201d\u2014_N. Y. Tribune._\n\n\nSHAKESPEARIAN TALES IN VERSE.\n\nA Rhyming Version of some of the Popular Plays of SHAKESPEARE.\n\n100 full-pages of colored illustrations, from original designs. Quarto\nvolume, elegantly bound in extra cloth, full gilt. Price, $3.00.\n\n \u201cOne of the handsomest, brightest, and most charming of\n Juvenile Publications. The illustrations all show superior\n workmanship, the figures are lifelike, and the colors vivid and\n pleasing.\u201d\u2014_Chicago Evening Journal._\n\n\n_Copies sent by mail, postpaid, on receipt of price._","title":"At home in Fiji","tradition":"folklore-oral-tradition","translated_text":null,"word_count":166861}