Saints and
Savages THE STORY OF FJVE YEARS
IN THE NEW HF;BRinES

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Saints and Savages

" I now see more good, and more evil, in all men than heretofore I did.
I see that good men are not so good as I once thought they were. ... In
the wicked, usually there is more for grace to make advantage of, and more
to testify for God and holiness, than I once believed." — Richard Baxter.
" I know that people are called saints who are supposed to be better than
others : but I don't know how much better they must be in order to be
saints ; nor how nearly anybody may be a saint and yet not be quite one ;
nor whether everybody who is called a saint was one ; nor whether every
body who isn't called a saint isn't one." — Ruskin.
" When I would do good, evil is present with me." — Saint Paul.

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"AMONG THE BROKEN GODS."
•The old ,\\en sit down together and weep."- page 224.

Saints and Savages
The Story of Five Years in the
New Hebrides

ROBERT LAMB
i » ¦
M.A. (N.Z.), M.B., Ch.M., B.D. (Edin.)
FORMERLY SUPERINTENDENT AND HON. SUPERINTENDENT
MEDICAL MISSION, AMBRYM, NEW HEBRIDES

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
JULIAN R. ASHTON, Sydney, N.S.W.

WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS
EDINBURGH AND LONDON
MCMV

All Rights reserved

DEDICATED TO
THE STUDENTS OF EDINBURGH,
ESPECIALLY MY OLD FELLOWS
WHO ARE SCATTERED FAR AND WIDE
DISSEMINATING THE GOSPEL;
AND TO THE
YOUNG MEN OF NEW ZEALAND.

In Preparation.
BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

THE VISION OF GOD.
A Companion Volume to
'SAINTS AND SAVAGES.'

PREFACE.

' Saints and Savages ' represents a study in black
and white. It is an endeavour to give a glimpse of
the heathen as they were seen by the writer, — a
glimpse which enables us to understand in a measure
how they lived and what they lived for, before
white sails were first seen flitting among these isles,
bringing a disturbing element into their simple lives.
A glimpse is also given of the forces, good and
bad, now at work, which are fast sweeping away
every vestige of what once was. The story of Eden
is being repeated before our eyes. The black man
has been tempted to eat of the fruit of the tree of
knowledge. The result is the same — death to his
race and expulsion from his fair heritage.
The contrasts are, as the title indicates, strongly
marked. The black is very black. It shows what may
and does occur beyond the sky-line of civilisation.
As for the white, experience compels us to admit
that the linen garments of the purest of earth's

viii Preface
saints (I think I have been privileged to meet some
of them) are nothing to boast of. We may well
sympathise with the disconsolate washerwoman as
she gazed at her line of clothes against a back
ground of newly fallen snow, and muttered to her
self, "God Almighty's white is hard to beat." Still,
we do get glimpses of that white, occasionally amid
strange surroundings.
There is no attempt to classify the characters, or
even to define what is meant by sainthood and its
opposite. In our young days it seemed an easy
matter; easy also on paper; but contact with the
real men and women alters all that. And such are
these. The gradations as we pass from one extreme
to the other are so fine, that we may say with the
ancient Rabbis, " Between Gehenna and Paradise
there is only the breadth of two fingers." Probably
the orginator of that saying meant the chink be
tween the fingers. Nevertheless the chink is a fact,
and represents the line of cleavage.
One thing we learn beyond all doubt — that colour
is no bar; nor is the want of it. That at which
men draw the line is less than skin deep.
The book is the outcome of an effort, during a
period of illness, to weave as simply as possible the
incidents and experiences of these five years into a
readable story. A few facts from the before and
the afterwards are utilised to lead up to and round

Preface

IX

off the tale. It is not so much a history — though
it is that too — as a study and portrayal of character
as seen from one corner of the field. The details of
the narrative are subsidiary, and have been handled
freely to form the setting. For obvious reasons —
some of the originals being still alive — it has been
necessary here and there to adopt a thin veil of
disguise. Some names have been changed, some
scenes shifted, some groups of incidents rearranged
and wrought into a unity. The principal characters
are therefore, in a sense, fiction. It is better to be
frank than to be misunderstood.
Nevertheless, the tapestry of our tale, such as it
is, has been woven on the loom of actual life. The
pictures given of Island ways and native character
are authentic. Once and again Imagination has,
of necessity, been allowed to assist Memory at the
shuttle ; but every thread is spun of fact.
In the field of anthropology nothing has been
attemped beyond a little prospecting. Others must
mine and win the gold. The hope is humbly cher
ished that the result of this love-inspired task will
have justified the effort, and that the reader may
find herein some few grains, dollied and shining,
of pleasure and of help.
For, not without some misgivings, this brief tale
of broken lives, with the lesson learned therefrom,
is sent on its way — like bread cast upon the waters.

X

Preface

With pleasure I acknowledge Mr J. W. Mansfield's
cordial co-operation in obtaining information con
cerning some of the native customs. To him and to
Mr J. F. Byrne, and others, I am indebted for the
photographs on which several of the illustrations have
been based. Other acknowledgments will be found
in their appropriate places. ROBERT LAMB.
Wentworth Falls,
Blue Mountains, N.S.W.
New Year, 1905.

CONTENTS.

BOOK I.
Buckling on the Armour.

CHAP. I. THE CALL
II. WILL AS A STUDENT
III. EDINBURGH

PAGE 3
1217

BOOK II.
On the Field.
I. RECONNOITRING : DREAMS AND REALITIES
II. THE SEARCH
III. NO MAN'S LAND .
IV. THE BLACK MAN'S FATE
V. THE LABOUR TRADE
VI. WILL AT WORK .
VII. THE DRINK FIEND
VIII. THE JOY OF LIVING

29 37
46 53
63 738392

BOOK III.
The Conflict.
I. SKIRMISHING
II. THE POLITY OF THE HEATHEN
III. THE STRUGGLE FOR SUPREMACY

105 117130

Xll

Contents

IV. A HURRICANE ....
V. A SWIM FOR LIFE
VI. THE FIRST OPERATION .
VII. TATU : A FLOWERET OF THE KINGDOM
VIII. A FRESH DISASTER
IX. THE VOLCANO AWAKES .
X. THE WISDOM AND MORALS OF THE SAVAGE
XI. "RED HEARTS" ....
XII. THE ARREST ....
XIII. CASTING THE NET
XIV. OUR BOYS ....

142
153164
175190
200207222
233242253

BOOK IV.
Valete, Fratres !

I. FAREWELL, MY COMRADES !
II. THE OLD MAL OF NAUBU
III. WILL'S LAST CLIMB
IV. THE GRAVEDIGGERS
V. WAS IT WORTH ? .

2692S2288298
307

ILLUSTRATIONS.

"AMONG THE BROKEN GODS." "THE OLD MEN
DOWN TOGETHER AND WEEP"
THE WATER-CLOCK
THE ROUTE THROUGH THE GROUP
"CHILDREN OF THE WOODS"
MAL AT HOME .
A DRUM. (FANTING) .
MONUMENTS OF SOCIAL RANK
YAMS. "HALF A DAY'S LABOUR TO DIG UP ONE POTATO
A SMALL "PLATFORM"
UNDER THE BANYAN .
"SMITTEN AND BLASTED"
THE SWIM FOR LIFE .
THE HOSPITAL .
"BRAVE TO THE LAST"
"ONE OF THE . . . BRIGHTEST"
"WHERE THE 'SERPENT' OF FIRE
SEA" ,
MAP OF AMBRYM
A SPIRIT STONE. "WE DID NOT KNOW ABOUT GOD"
MELUN-LUBU. "NO GHOST THIS TIME"
THE STATION ......
THE NATIVE CHURCH. (GROUND PLAN) .
"THY TOUCH HAS STILL ITS ANCIENT POWER" .
"'DESPAIR' . . . CAME SEEKING HELP" .
THE SYMBOL OF IMMORTALITY
MAL'S CARD OF INTRODUCTION TO HEAVEN
MAL'S SYMBOL OF FAREWELL. "WHAT NOW REMAINED
WHAT BUT FLIGHT?" ....

. SIT
Frontispiece u
3°
44
116 120
122
124 126150152158160
188196

GLIDED INTO THE

202204
214 232
242 246
248250 278
280281

BOOK I.
BUCKLING ON THE ARMOUR

SAINTS AND SAVAGES.

CHAPTER I.
The Call.
" Give us a whole man."
His voice rang round the gallery and echoed into
the dimmest corner of the great church. He was a
tall gaunt Scot, whose grey eyes burned in their
caverns as they ranged over the pews, vision following
appeal hard afoot. His face, or what was visible of
it from out the grizzly hair and beard, was tanned by
many a tropic sun. An accurate scholar, a lifelong
toiler, he was one of those unimpassioned souls whose
work is done in silence. With high resolve and flint
like purpose he had followed his ideal through long
and lonely years on a sea-girt rock, striving to tame
a few tribes of wild savages. Success or failure made
no difference. The path was there, and the vision ;
and he followed on unflinchingly. So, much of the
finest work on this earth is done ; and the doers pass
from our planet, untrumpeted and unsung. Certainly
they could never raise the trumpet to their own lips,

4 Buckling on the Armour
be the reason an inborn pride or a humble sense of
unworthiness. Alas ! the world takes a man at his
own valuation.
A nature cold as steel, yet to-night the sparks
were flying. For once the fire reached the surface,
and his heart found voice in burning words :—
" Before you to-night the poor widow pauses. 'Tis
but for a moment. Note her dress: it is shabby,
though clean. Her eyes are downcast. She is
ashamed of her small offering — ' two mites which
make a farthing' — as they chink together and fall
into the treasury. Yet into the sacred chest with
the mites went her whole heart, — ' all her living,'
says our Lord. We ask you not for all your living ;
give us but a day's wage. We ask you not for your
whole heart ; give us but a share of your sympathy.
But cannot this great congregation, out of its abund
ance, give us a whole man ? Ay, give us a whole
man." His cry was being answered. In the left-hand
angle of the gallery, the second seat from the top,
sat a lad of sixteen years, the soil of whose heart had
been prepared for this living seed. His name was
Will Goddard, as English as that Englishest of
English names, " Tom Brown," if Somerset and
Dorset are English; for his mother hailed from
Marston and his father from Sherborne. As the
name Stuart originally denoted the sty-warden, and
Shepherd the sheep -herd, so Goddard would be the
goat-herd; but the dictionaries tell us that it is Old
German for pious, virtuous. However that may be,
Will himself was born amidst the ferns of the New

The Call 5
Zealand bush, in the early 'Sixties. And of all the
fair countries on earth, there were none to him so
fair as the two Britains.
Fifteen years agone he had listened to this same
messenger, then a swarthy, black-haired man in his
prime, who had left his islet in the ocean once before
to plead for help, not for himself, but for the islets
and islands around, and for a benighted people who
were perishing for lack of knowledge. At that time
Will was but an infant in his mother's lap, and all
of the message he imbibed must have come through
his mother's milk. Certainly the text had remained
with her, " He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing
precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoic
ing, bringing his sheaves with him." It had saturated
her mind, and given permanent direction to her
thoughts. She had come, too, of martyr stock — being a direct
descendant of Hooper, the eloquent Bishop of
Gloucester (" famous next to Latimer "), who, for his
sleepless energy, scrupulosity, and loyalty to the truth,
was slowly roasted to death before the eyes of his
flock. From her grandfather's lips she had heard the
story of how the green faggots had thrice to be
kindled, as, in the midst of the drawn-out agony, the
good man was heard praying and calling for " More
fire!" Apparently the missionary had come back to claim
the babe, who was now shooting up towards manhood,
a manhood that ought to be broad-minded and liberal-
hearted. For, in the meantime, he had been baptised
by an itinerant Wesleyan; confirmed by a bishop in
robes of silk and sleeves of lawn ; and now he was
listening to a sermon in the kirk, and being called to

6 Buckling on the Armour
its ministry. Such are the vicissitudes of colonial
life. Will had already been four years in business, and
latterly had been helping at home. Now, having
reached the end of the home tether, he wished to
learn some trade, and set about his life's work. One
desire dominated his ambition — to find a sphere in
which he could serve the Master and devote all
spare earnings to His cause. On the morrow he
was to set forth and seek his place and work in the
world. As the appeal rang round the church, his colour
came and went, the blood surging and ebbing again.
Of what use could he be in the mission-field ? What
were his qualifications ? All that remained with him
from his schooling, so frequently interrupted, was a
knowledge of the three R's and an honest and willing
heart. He could hew wood and draw water, fetch
and carry, be a servant to the prophet, and clean his
master's shoes. At least he could offer — and he
would. Ere the organ pealed forth and the con
gregation dispersed into the darkness and coolness
of the night, the resolve was fixed.
Trying to see his way through the uncertainty that
hid the future, by the light of the stars he hastened,
slowly, along the path to his home.
It was his duty every night to give the horses their
late supper. The groom lived at a distance, and left
early. Changing his coat, he gathered his buckets
and set to work. He had reached the crisis of his
life, and his heart was full. As bucketful after bucket
ful of feed was dipped out of the bin, the tears fell
fast, dropping among the oats and chaff, and moist
ening the bran. Even the two greys, frisky Kate and

The Call 7
placid Mag, as each received her share, — with a kindly
pat of the hand on the neck, — seemed to know there
was something unusual. If ever the cloud came down
and filled the temple with glory, so was the stable
filled that night. The heart laid upon the altar was
filled with a joy that could only find relief in floods
of silent tears, a joy never to be forgotten. Through
a life of sorrow, of trouble and disappointed hopes,
it remained — a steady beacon, shining most brightly
when the darkness was deepest. It is strange how in
the greatest moments of life the smallest details seen
by the eye remain fixed indelibly on the memory, as
though the brain for that brief instant had become a
camera. The lantern seemed to shine with unusual
brilliance, and the clean straw flashed back its beams
from floor and stall. There were no angels visible,
and no rustle of shining wings ; only a plain white
washed stable, the scraping of restive hoofs, the whinny
ing of happy contented animals. But the glory was
there ; and the stable became a vision, as of heaven
on earth, of the golden floor, or as when the angels
sang and their flame lit up the sheepcotes on the
meadows of Bethlehem. Like Moses, he had come
to a " burning bush " and had received his call.
At last the work was done. He blew out the candle,
closed the stable -doors, and, fixing the peg in the
staple, recrossed the yard, the light of a new-born
hope, and joy, on his face. His heart was filled with
a new purpose and with a new sense of power to
attempt it.
" Mother, may I speak with you a minute ? "
They withdrew into the passage ; it was dark there.
" I want to go to the mission-field, and I am going
to offer to-morrow. Will you tell father ? "

8 Buckling on the Armour
There was a long pause. Then came a tender kiss,
the only answer, and —
" Good night, Will."
" Good night, mother."
He did not know then, what he was to learn years
afterwards, that this was seemingly the answer to a
long-continued prayer of some thirty years. There
were twelve in the family, and from her first-born
onward she had offered a son to God's service. So
far the only answer had been in the case of wee Harry,
who was taken in infancy, and was growing up and
doing service " in the palace of the King." Such is
a mother's faith.
His father, too, was quite willing, and proud that
it should be so.
Two days later the tide of Will's enthusiasm had
ebbed — till the beach was dry. He was down on his
knees in the clay of the stable, paving a stall with
cobble-stones. That was a light task, but the sweat
rolled off his brow with the struggle going on within.
It seemed as though the snapping of a straw would
have turned him from his purpose. The missionary,
and his pastor too, had both been interviewed, and
they had both told him that unskilled labour was
not wanted in the mission-field. There were plenty
of natives for that. He must brush up his education ;
study for ordination ; learn to address meetings ; and
then go forth, himself fully equipped.
Shy and diffident, to him the ordeal of having to
face a crowd was crushing. For, in those four years,
the technicalities of his learning had evaporated from
the memory, leaving a deposit in which even verbs,
adverbs, and conjunctions had become indistinguish
able. How could he, with nervous, stammering

The Call 9
tongue, ever be able to address others? For he did
stammer at times, and that badly. Yet his advisers
were quite right. If a man cannot get the best train
ing for such a high calling, let him get the best he
can. Unskilled assistants are as much a humbug
in the mission -field as elsewhere; and they are the
last to think it of themselves. Let a man know
something well; be a carpenter, engineer, teacher,
electrical operator. Such men, teachable and apt to
teach, are wanted in this field as they are otherwhere.
It is the fluent nobody, who cannot drive a nail;
who runs about, Bible under arm, and knowing little
of its spirit ; who can never see when a window
needs cleaning, a floor sweeping, a lamp trimming,
though his leader must both see and do, — such men,
untrained to steady application, and ignorant of their
own deficiencies, are ever ready to claim the prophets'
shoes, and waiting to demand his mantle. One thing
they often can do — write up glowing reports.
So he was told, and so he learned by bitter experi
ence in after-years.
" God help me ! "
He did. For had He not spoken a parable to this
end, " that men ought always to pray, and not to
faint." So men rise above difficulties ; and so, in this case,
the straw did not snap.
" It was the toughest battle of my life," he said long
afterwards. Nothing ever after assailed his courage so
severely, not even the facing of large congregations nor
of the General Assembly itself. For he had met them
already — and conquered.
He paused.

io Buckling on the Armour
" No," he added, " there was one other day that tried
me sorely. I once answered my dear old mother back
sharply. The words were hardly out of my mouth
when my heart smote me. There were two miserable
people in the house that day. When bedtime came,
there was no sleep for me till we had met in the
passage again, and I had been forgiven. I thank God
for such a mother."
Will was not a man " to carry his heart on his sleeve
for daws to peck at." I never knew a lad, or man,
more reticent concerning himself. At times there was
a look in his eyes that made one instinctively turn
away ; he was filled with some thought " too deep for
tears," which it was sacrilege to probe. Indeed, he
himself would lament that he was a " dumb dog" and
could not speak, as could others, of what are known as
religious experiences. But there are times when the
sacred doors are fitly thrown wide, and the glory of the
inner sanctum shines forth. Such a moment came one
night on Ambrym. We were sitting on a bank of
broken coral in a bay on the north-east end of the
island, waiting for the tide to rise high enough to float
our boat over the reef. The risen moon cast her glow
upon the waters, the silver pathway reaching almost to
our feet, barred only by the black line of the yet un
covered rocks. At every flow of the incoming tide
the water softly lapped the coral fragments, down
whose steep banks the hermit-crabs rolled and tinkled
unheeded. In quiet undertones, as of a chant, Will
recited the story of how he had been led to these
distant bounds of the habitable earth. It was a story
intended only for my own ears, but it was so truly " a
feast of reason and a flow of soul " — though chiefly the
latter — that I am constrained to share it with others.

The Call

ii

In doing so I hope I am not proving untrue to my
friend's now sainted memory.
For, of a truth, Will was a saint.
The hours sped swiftly. Will was the first to note
the change. Suddenly springing to his feet, he ex
claimed —
" Let us up, and be off; the tide is in."

THE WATER-CLOCK.-SEB Page 14.

12

CHAPTER II.
Will as a Student.
" You are burning the candle at both ends ; and you
have only one candle to burn."
So his fellow-student, Lang, advised him as they
stood in cap and gown before the fire. It was a raw
day in winter. They were in the mathematical class
room. The lecture was over ; the professor had retired
and the body of students dispersed ; and the two were
free to enjoy their pocket luncheons and compare
notes. Three years had passed since the inward tussle over
the cobble-stones. Will was now an undergraduate
and a junior scholar.
Though almost at the foot of the ladder, he had
forthwith begun study in earnest. Several kind friends,
themselves students, were found willing to lend a
guiding hand. By the time he had crossed the " pons
asinorum " in Euclid, the untrained brain-cells began
to rebel through sheer weariness. Again, at a mission
ary meeting, a cloud as of Egyptian darkness seemed
to envelop him. And though, at these times, in
response to prayer, there seemed to be " no voice,
nor any that answered," he had put his hand to the
plough and would not turn back.

Will as a Student 13
Success followed perseverance, and was the best
kind of encouragement. Up in the early mornings,
pacing the floor by candle-light, — softly, to avoid
waking his brothers, and wrapped in an ulster, he
read hard at ' Sound, Light, and Heat.' Often as he
reached the end of the attic, he forgot to turn, and
unconsciously slept, till his knees gave way, or the
book fell with a bang to the floor. Pocket-money was
scarce in those days, and, scared at his own extrav
agance, he hid his first parcel of books, a Smith's
Roman History and an Ancient Atlas, under the
shrubs in the garden, till he could smuggle them
upstairs unobserved. On another occasion he sold
a valuable gold chain, a gift from an employer, to pay
for college fees. In two years the matriculation ex
amination was passed ; but in two or three subjects
the marks fell just below the scholarship line. He put
back for a year, and tried again.
It was a race for knowledge — a race in which many
fall, not to rise again. For the prizes were a necessity,
and competition was keen. Already he had found kind
and unostentatious friends among the teachers and
professors. One of them was an enthusiast for English
Literature, and some of the struggling and deserving
students, Will among the number, occasionally found,
on the rack in the hall of the College, sealed envelopes
addressed to them. Each contained a cheque cover
ing the fees of that class for the ensuing session. Will
rewarded his benefactor by finally taking his M.A. with
first-class honours in English and Latin Literature.
Thus encouraged, severer application followed. At
home he was allowed a room to himself; and he filled
the lining of the walls with sawdust, and constructed
a double door likewise, to shut out extraneous noises.

14 Buckling on the Armour
Seven to eight hours was the maximum of sleep taken,
and nine o'clock the hour for bed.
As an alarm-clock failed to rouse him in the morning,
he cast about to construct a water-clock, which, after
a little adjusting, proved effective.
This simple piece of mechanism was fastened on the
wall beside his bed. It consisted of a bracket, a long
and a short lever, and a rope, one end of which was
knotted round one wrist and the other attached to a
weight, in this instance a brick. The water in the full
tin A was conveyed by capillary action along a wetted
thread of worsted, and dripped into B. At the end of
eight hours the accumulated drips in B were sufficient
to raise the lever at C and release the small weight (an
iron nut) at D. D, falling, pulled the ring E off its
curved peg, and thus released the brick F, which there
upon gave a sharp tug to the sleeper. It kept tugging
and pulling at the hand beneath the bedclothes till he
was roused up. Sometimes Will was awakened by the
pain at the wrist ; sometimes he found himself sitting
bolt-upright in bed ; at other times the knots were un
tied while the brain slept on, and only the blue mark
on the wrist remained to tell the story. Sometimes,
too, that best of mothers would steal into the room
before going to bed, and gently untie the knot, if it
could be done without waking him.
Again, that the brain might remain clear and an extra
half-hour be thus gained for study, the amount of food
taken at meal-times was reduced to the minimum.
Alas, what a fool he was ! — robbing both nerve and
body cells of the mental and physical stores of energy
that should have been laid by for his life's work.
Despite this self-inflicted rigour and discipline, he de
veloped into a stout, square-shouldered man. That

Will as a Student 15
year's work (the third) added 1042 marks to the total,
and secured a university scholarship for three years.
Therewith cap-and-gown life began, and at the end of
that period came the B.A. degree, an exhibition in
science (£"20), and a senior scholarship. Another
strenuous year of teaching and study won for him
the M.A. with the coveted honours, and therewith the
Arts course was complete.
And the Arts course of the University of New
Zealand was a fair test of education. The Senatus
Academicus had determined that her degrees should
be above suspicion or reproach. To this end they had
secured the services of the professors of the University
of London to act as examiners. Consequently there
was some delay in obtaining the results of the examina
tions. But no true student regretted the unavoidable
expenditure of patience ; rather, he weighed it against
the higher status thus attained, and felt more than
content to wait for the cables from home.
In the meantime his horizon had widened, and new
ideals had risen to view. Some friends in the ministry
were impatient for him to be gone to the mission-field.
At the same time there was a conflict in his own
breast. Should he confine his efforts to preaching,
pure and simple, or try to win men by combining with
it a life of service ? So acute a phase did the question
assume, that, one morning early, taking with him his
pocket Bible and Arthur's ' Tongue of Fire,' he sought
a secret spot beneath the oaks on the far side of the
wide-spreading park. There, on the river's bank, he
pondered the matter and sought for guidance. No
mystic voice gave answer from out the clouds of
uncertainty ; only the rats came out of their holes and
nibbled at the acorns, or sat up like squirrels and

1 6 Buckling on the Armour
played " hide and seek " among the leaves and grass.
Yet the ideal of a life of service triumphed. From
that day the burden of life seemed lighter and the
road straight ahead.
He felt more in sympathy with men, and could
pursue his path with buoyancy. For with many the
" Stand and deliver " policy addressed to their souls
only drives them farther from the Kingdom. The
Christ first healed the sick, and then said unto them,
"the Kingdom of God is come nigh unto you." Thus
the Prince of sowers first prepared His soil. Moreover
He sent out His disciples to do likewise. "The Son
of man is come to minister and to give His life." The
programme of Christianity is towards the poor, the
maimed, the captive, and the lost, to give them a
garland and the oil of joy. An era of strenuous ser
vice is dawning, and the " Angels of the Churches "
are becoming the angels of the gutter and the slum.
For Christianity is a campaign of love.
So the truth shone anew at Will from every page
of the Gospels. The waving grass and rustling oaks,
the placid crystal stream, and even the confiding little
creatures around, with their shining, beady, black eyes,
seemed to whisper the lesson of Nature —
" Trust in God, and do the next thing,"
and to join in the note of the Evangel —
" Despairing of no man, never despairing." 1
At sunset he withdrew from his hiding-place, and
returned home to his studies with a lighter heart,
and in happier vein.
1 R.V., Luke vi. 35, and marginal reading.

i7

CHAPTER III.
Edinburgh.
Two dangers were looming large ahead — rocks on
which many a promising youth, destined for the
ministry, has ended his career : The theory of Evolu
tion, and the doctrine of the Authority of the Scrip
tures. Many of his fellow -students in the colonial
university were seriously inclined; and these subjects
were earnestly discussed and debated among them.
Will felt more every day that some satisfactory solution
of these questions must be reached, if he were to be
able to give an answer for the faith that was in him.
Therefore he resolved to go to the sources of learning
and attempt to reach the bed-rock of knowledge. At
least he would see what was already known for fact,
and ascertain how the best minds were solving these
difficulties. And so, before the results of the last ex
amination were known, with but a few pounds in his
pocket, he was on board the s.s. Doric, of the White
Star line, bound round Cape Horn for London and
Edinburgh. There, at the head-waters of learning,
he hoped to be able to pursue his studies, and, if
possible, obtain a training in medicine and divinity.
Arriving in Edinburgh at the beginning of the
summer, he took in hand at once the subjects of
B

1 8 Buckling on the Armour
Hebrew and Botany. Funds soon ran low, and no
suitable work seemed obtainable. At the critical
moment a five-pound note came to hand unexpectedly
from his college friend in New Zealand. Thereafter
the path was fairly easy, despite occasional pinchings
of the shoe.
Once only was he really dumfounded. It was in
this wise. During one winter session he had to hurry
from the Divinity Hall to the University, to be in time
for the next lecture. Passing along George IV. Bridge,
he got a glass of hot milk and a couple of biscuits at a
shop by the way. His pockets were empty, but he yet
had one coin left — a half-sovereign. Drawing his
purse from his breast-pocket to pay for his rapid
lunch, he found it — empty !
Puzzled for a while, he afterwards remembered that
his coat had been hung where another could get at
it. His suspicions were afterwards confirmed. In
innocent trustfulness and desire to help another, he
had been harbouring a snake in his bosom, which
afterwards bit him venomously. This experience
accounts for the development of a harder trait in his
character. He changed the rule of conduct hitherto
followed, "Speak no ill of any man," to "Speak of
every man as you find him ; and suffer no nonsense."
Always after that he refused to cherish suspicions, and
either dismissed the thought, or, at the risk of giving
offence, demanded a straight-out answer from the
person concerned. To do so is not always possible.
But to harbour a suspicion is to cherish a canker at
one's heart : it destroys one's peace, and robs life of
its beauty. Despite his gentleness, this firm demand
for honesty in look and deed engendered respect in
others, and in some fear.

Edinburgh 19
Hitherto his Sundays had been devoted to teaching
and preaching, so that on becoming a student of the
Medical Missionary Society, he was appointed assist
ant, and then superintendent, of the Cowgate Chil
dren's Church. The children met in the ancient,
historic Magdalene Chapel, the chapel of the " Guild
of the Hammer-men." It is the birthplace of Pres
byterian Assemblies. John Knox preached there,
and the chair he used is still shown. Thus Will
could truly say that he had sat in the seat and taught
from the pulpit of the great Reformer.
During part of their training the students resided
in the Cowgate beside the Chapel, so that they might
be in close touch with the poor of the slums, for whom
they laboured gratuitously. Soon Will had a fairly
wide practice, week-days and Sundays, among the little
ones, whom he loved both to teach and to tend. When
confronted with cases more difficult than ordinary,
the students could fall back on the assistance of the
seniors and of the resident physician. However, Will
was never quite in the position of the man who, when
asked why he had failed to diagnose a case of scarlet
fever, replied —
" Sir, we have only just finished measles."
Two Drummond scholarships won in the Divinity
Hall lightened the financial burden. But, like so
many students of the Scottish Universities, he was
indebted to a mother's love for instalments, which,
though coming so far and somewhat irregularly, suf
ficed for him to hold on without check.
Truly it was a difficult problem to solve, how to
follow the two courses of study at one and the same
time successfully. The children, too, demanded the
whole of Sunday and many an hour in the week. The

20 Buckling on the Armour
task had been an impossible one had his previous
work not been thorough. No knot had been allowed
to go by untied, no skein left in a tangle. He under
stood what he had learned, and the ground felt firm
beneath his feet. Some one had said, "Revision is
the secret of success ; revise, and again revise ; and
revise again." Will endeavoured to do so, though
once and again he had only two minutes to prepare
for an examination as he stood at the doorway in the
quadrangle, kicking the snow off his shoes and glanc
ing rapidly over the summarised notes. His fellows
had already entered and were driving their quills.
" You can't do it, sir. You will find medicine hard
enough a mistress in herself. She claims all your
homage." Thus Sir William Turner, as he ate his lunch out
of a packet on his knee in one of the side-rooms of
the anatomy theatre. In order to retain his divinity
scholarship, Will found it necessary to take the lectures
on anatomy in the College of Surgeons. Sir William's
permission had to be asked ; and it meant a refund
of four guineas by the professor. It was not that, but
the indignation of the enthusiast for his own subject,
which flavoured the sound advice with a spice of wrath.
Will listened humbly ; secured permission ; and went
his way.
" What ? Are you going to make converts with bad
surgery ? D'ye call that Christianity ? "
So Professor Chiene. " Honest John " the students
called him ; whose Socratic method of questioning

Edinburgh 2 1
was as much feared, as he himself was respected and
admired. It was Chiene who, addressing his students,
said —
" Gentlemen, if you are going to succeed you must
be angels. You must make each patient feel that
there is only one patient in the world ; that the case
of greatest interest is the one before you."
But Will was no mean surgeon. I have watched
him do the most serious of operations with complete
success. With myself giving the chloroform, he had
but one assistant, an untrained woman. With needles
already threaded, the instruments laid out around him,
and every step thought out beforehand, he was able
to accomplish what in civilisation required two or
three assistants, and as many nurses.
Saturday was a high day among the students. The
big theatre in the Royal Infirmary was packed with
them, rising in semicircles, tier above tier, to the
very ceiling, a living wall. It was Edinburgh's
palmiest days, when streets and theatres swarmed
with students, Scottish and English and from over
sea. A curly-headed little fellow, from the West, lay
on the table. His right foot was to come off. He
glanced at the gruesome trays of knives and saws,
the awesome bottles, the living wall of faces. Sud
denly, pushing aside the chloroform towel, he looked
into the eyes of the surgeon bending over him, and
his shrill voice piped aloud —
" Will ye no pray first ? "
There was a time when writers loved to describe
students of medicine as a lot of rollicking swillers and
rakes ; when such a cry might have been drowned in
ribald laughter. But all this had been changed. The
University had discovered the secret of control ; had

22 Buckling on the Armour
given the students a voice in the government, and
made them responsible for keeping order. Lister and
Syme, the author of ' Rab and his Friends,' large souls
like Sir James Y. Simpson, Henry Drummond, and
Walter Smith, had not lived and taught in vain.
Glancing from the surgeon to the wall of faces
beyond, and back again, he fixed his eyes wistfully
on the face, palest of all, above him. A tear trembled
On each of the young lids, and again the distressed
little voice was heard —
" Can ye no pray? "
The surgeon wheeled round on his heel.
" Now, you mission lads, show your mettle."
There was dead silence. As no one else seemed
about to move, a tall dark figure in the third row
stood up. He was an African ; French, Dutch, and
English blood ran in his veins — in short, he was a
Boer. There was an incipient round of applause, but
the surgeon raised his hand.
" Our Father in heaven, bless the little man on the
table and bring him safely through ; and bless the
efforts of Thy skilful servant. For Thy name's sake.
Amen." Again there was a round of applause.
" 'Cute beggar," whispered a wag audibly from the
ceiling ; " he'll pass ! "
A titter of laughter rippled from bench to bench,
and even the surgeon smiled. The African blushed.
He was quite innocent ; but, seeing the point, he
joined in the laugh. Curly-head on the table opened
his eyes in wonderment. He could not understand
it. He too smiled and fell asleep. The operation
proceeded. In those days John Stuart Blackie was still to be

Edinburgh 23
seen in the streets of the city. His flowing white
locks and the grey check plaid round his shoulders
were a familiar sight. Occasionally he gave a lecture,
and the students crowded to hear him. I have still
by me a cartoon which appeared in 'The Student,'
the weekly organ of the Students' Representative
Council of those days. Though he was now "pro
fessor emeritus," he was still possibly the youngest in
spirit of all Edinburgh's Students, and ready for a
frolic. The mischievous artist has not forgotten that.
But the prince of teachers and lecturers was Pro
fessor A. B. Davidson. No class-room was more
orderly — no work more strenuous. For he was pre
eminent not merely for flashes, but slashes, of wit.
The men hung on his lips, and the whip was seldom
used — on them.
The merriest of all class-rooms was, perhaps, Bili
rubin's (Professor Rutherford's). The students pro
vided their own mirth, and strove to get their innings
before the stout, dark-haired man " sailed " on to the
platform. There was no chance afterwards. Some
times he was greeted with " Here comes the bogie
man ! " at other times with a song or a psalm, as the
"Old Hundredth"; and he had to wait patiently,
wagging his head from side to side, and rolling his
eyes, till the singers had bestowed on themselves, with
the floor as their sounding-board, a prolonged measure
of applause.
Times had indeed changed. A genuine, manly,
Christian sentiment had taken a firm grip of chair
and auditorium. There was no sickliness about it.
Life had lost none of its rosiness or vigour; nor
was learning less eager, less keen and ambitious.
Men were not ashamed to confess their convictions.

24 Buckling on the Armour
Rather was it the other way. It was Sir James Simp
son himself, who, when asked by an admirer what he
considered his greatest discovery, replied —
" That I have a Saviour ! "
Such an answer is explained by the fact that a
wave of evangelism was passing over the city. There
was no half -heart about these men. They were
Christians without shame or sham. And they proved
their sincerity by the thoroughness of their work.
"No, I don't believe in this combining of Divinity
with Medicine, — I don't believe in it."
This was said in a thin, high-pitched voice, and the
tall figure of the speaker, clad in black, with a strong
look of disapproval on his face, vanished through the
doorway. This was Dr Thomas Smith, who had
himself successfully taught in Indian class-rooms as
Professor of Mathematics and Divinity.
However, Will was not daunted. Specialisation is
the cry to-day. And the man who would succeed in
the highly developed centres of modern civilisation
must needs be a specialist. But among primitive
peoples it is the man who is good all round that is
required. Every finger must be developed ; for there
the one-fingered man is at a discount.
No ; in the winter sessions it was not easy to prevent
the medical and divinity lectures from clashing, and
only by reading up in the vacations was Will able to
hold his own. It is noteworthy how the wisest men
sometimes make mistakes. One day Will found him
self in the study of that ardent student and abettor
of students, the minister of Free St George's. He
brought away three words —

Edinburgh 25
" Work ; work ; work ; — your student days will never
come back."
Such advice in this case was, to use the colonial
phrase, like "carrying coals to Newcastle." Will was
working much too hard already — indeed, always had.
Twice, when the winter sessions were in full swing,
brain fever was threatening. He had to crawl home
to his " digs " across the Meadows, take a purge and
a sleeping-draught, draw the blinds, and try to sleep
for two or three days. As soon as the congestion was
relieved, and the temperature had fallen, he crept forth
and began to attend lectures again with the utmost
caution. In this he was not alone; for, in many of
the more thronged classes, there were men at the
top who visibly wore the flesh off their bones as the
examinations drew nearer. Like them he won a
fair share of the honours and prizes : two medals in
Chemistry and Biology in the College of Surgeons and
Medical School; also the first senior prize in Mid
wifery and Diseases of Women. In the fifth year
the L.R.C.P.S. in the College, and the B.Sc. and
B.D. degrees in the University, capped his efforts.
In the final divinity examinations, anticipating only
a good pass, he relaxed his efforts, but found himself
only a few marks behind the Cunningham scholar:
thus he just missed the highest prize obtainable, a
travelling scholarship.
But Will, like other men, had his failures. Once,
indeed, he had to admit a "plucking," and that for
a small paper in Greek, set by the Edinburgh F.C.
Presbytery. The paper contained a few "nuts," put
in as a test of special preparation. Will, relying on
his general knowledge of Greek, failed to crack them.
For the University examinations were then proceeding,

26 Buckling on the Armour
and demanded all his attention. Thus, strange to say,
he was " plucked " for working too hard.
For Will had to learn, with others, that it is possible
to attempt too much even in a good cause. He had
also to learn that goodness and success have each their
price, and that, to keep the one, a man may have to
part with the other. It may and does happen that
a man, in being unselfishly true to the ideal of his
nobler self, must forgo winning the highest academic
honours, — so dear to the soul of the student. In a
series of sensational articles appearing in an influential
religious weekly, the character of the colonial students
had been unfairly, nay, scurrilously besmirched.
They appealed to Will, among others, to help in
refuting the gross charges. With another good-hearted
fellow he spent many a precious afternoon over the
University records, and thereby helped to re-establish
the good name and standing of the colonials. It
was proved that for some years the Australasians had
carried off a much higher percentage of prizes, medals,
and honours than an equal number of average students.
But when the final examinations came, the hope there
by of winning distinction and a gold medal for himself
had vanished. It was but a common incident in —
" The deadly trial of goodness — the doing right, and
suffering for it, quite finally.
"And that is life, as God arranges it."1
1 Ethics of the Dust.

BOOK II.
ON THE FIELD

CHAPTER I.
Reconnoitring: Dreams and Realities.
" A TIGHT fit this ! "
" Yes, rather."
It was nightfall, and we were perched up on top of
the little skylight, my wife and I.
By the side of the mail -steamer the ss. Croydon
seemed about the size of a launch. When at last the
cargo had been transferred, and the signal to leave
given, we climbed down into her and were cast off.
Then it was we found that she was laden with another
cargo, for the most part invisible, of odours and cock
roaches. But she was to be our home among the
islands for a month to come, and we were determined
to make the best of things.
I went down to the saloon to explore our quarters.
The bunks looked right enough, and the linen snowy
white; but, on pulling out a drawer below the under
berth, there was a tremendous " scutter." I shut it
to with a bang, hoping that the " brownies " would
keep within their hiding-place. Praising the little
cabins as being both cool and cosy, I next introduced
my wife to hers. Alas ! as we descended the com
panion-way, a huge red fellow, some two inches long,
sailed in at the door before our eyes, and perched

30 On the Field
himself on the topmost pillow. He turned and waved
his antennas, — whether to welcome or dispute our
entry remains unsolved. It was enough.
" Ugh ! what bed-fellows. The deck for me." That
was final.
The wind rose and the rain descended. The little
steamer ducked beneath the waves, and rolled from
side to side, till the decks were swamped.
From the centre of the skylight an iron stanchion
passed upward to support the frail wooden awning
overhead, the stanchion being stiffened by an iron stay
at each side sloping up to its middle. By persever
ing we found it possible to wriggle between stanchion
and stays ; and so, curled up as if on a table, and
firmly gripped by the bars at the waist, we were soon
sound asleep, — more sound, perhaps, than Jacob at
Bethel, though our dreams were not so "high and
lifted up."
We saw but the lower half of his ladder, and it had
widened with time till it was as broad as a great stair
way. Not angels, but poor weak mortals, were on it ;
men of every garb, and no garb ; of every tongue and
age, who strove and climbed — to fall and climb again.
Most of them had no wings ; but, as they climbed, the
wings budded, and they passed from sight. For, even
among the heathen, —
" Some there be that by due steps aspire
To lay their just hands on that golden key,
That opes the palace of eternity."
Like Jacob, too, we were very tired, so heeded not
the rattle of the thunder and the angry hiss of the sea.
We were literally hugging the mountain-tops, on the
bosom of the flood. There was no dreaming about

THE ROUTE THROUGH THE GROUP.

Dreams and Realities 31
that fact. For these islands are but the central, and
the topmost, peaks of a long and lofty range submerged
beneath the waters. The range extends over seven
hundred miles from north to south ; and as the earth
here whirls round at a thousand miles an hour, and as
the tides rise and fall, the ocean sweeps through the
gaps on the mountain ridge, giving rise to rough seas,
swift currents, and tossing rips.
The land is slowly moving upwards, and extending
its area. As the earth's crust contracts and creases,
the ridges rise, and the furrows deepen. The coral
polyp descends once more to fresh depths and builds
again, dotting the Pacific with clear lagoons, walled
in with white beaches and green islets.
Thus the islands are volcanic with fringing reefs.
A few are still alight, shooting up flames and great
volumes of dust, darkening the sky by day, and show
ing up red on the canopy of clouds at night.
In the land of dreams the events of the past and the
present were strangely jumbled together. We seemed
to be back in the old Dayspring days, when the sails of
the mission ship were seen on the horizon but twice
in a year, bringing fresh stores for body and mind, and
welcome as an angel from heaven.
I awoke with a shock, and found myself gripping
the stanchion hard. It was only our little vessel
giving a great lurch.
Beautiful though the islands appear, sometimes
beautiful as a dream, yet the life itself is sternly real.
Experience and necessity soon toughen the fibre,
physical and moral. Christmas-cakes and plum-
puddings, the love-gifts of far-away friends, may on
arrival be found far from appetising. But we are no
worse off than our Australian cousins. The "bush

32 On the Field
canary," as they call the big brown fly, is a worse
plague than our bluebottle, for which an equally
elegant name would be "blue-jay." Both vanish as
civilisation advances. And now that the steamer
service had supplanted the slow mission ships (peace
be to their rotting ribs !), weevily biscuits, and flour
that spontaneously rolled down the sides of the cask,
would be a thing of the past. Comforted by the
thought, I fell asleep again.
When we woke it was morning, and a group of
men stood by the taffrail conversing somewhat loudly.
It was the mate rapping his pipe on the rail that
woke me.
" To trade under that flag," said he, rapping the
bowl again to dislodge the ashes and emphasise his
disgust, " was a trick worthy of a Noumea nigger."
By " that flag " he apparently meant a white tie.
" Every man to his trade," chimed in a short yellow-
whiskered man, Dougal the boat-builder. " But let
him stick to his trade and not spoil his neighbour's
living." " Look here, Geordie," said a lanky one-armed Scot
known as Dick, addressing the mate, — he had been
quietly puffing away at his pipe and watching the
smoke, — "your story won't hold water. Hoots, man,
do you think a chap's going to leave a good business
in the Old Land and come down here among savages
to make a few dirty pence in that way ? No, no, it's
not good enough." Turning to an old man with flow
ing white beard, and another sallow-faced little fellow
who seemed half dead with fever, he went on : " Look
at it this way, chaps ; what's the good of getting ex
cited. I'm a trader mysel', and I don't mind. Sup
pose they send a man down here who is a better

Dreams and Realities 33
hand at buying and selling than preaching, you needn't
listen to him."
"Why don't their blessed Synod legislate and stop
'em from tradin' ? " said the old man, with a frown.
"I send 'em up petitions every year, and they won't
do nothin'."
Dick laughed a low soft laugh, resembling a
chuckle. " Perhaps they don't want to legislate. And suppose
they did, every man's a bishop on his own island.
Don't you know they want to see all the kanakas in
petticoats and top -hats ? That's not much in our
line, eh?"
" I guess not."
" Well, we'd better make it our line. If you don't
sell the calico cheap enough, they'll do it for you !
For my part, I'm inclined to give 'em a hand. It's
going to be. So we'd better fall in and keep pace."
" They might keep their hands off the copra, any
how," said the little man with the sallow face.
" I wouldn't vex mysel' over that," replied Dick.
" I had a look through Goddard's note-book, and I
assure you every bag of copra his boys made was for
building the church — in which we are all welcome to
a free seat. As for any profit on axes and knives, it
went to buy blankets to cover sick niggers and such
like, — and," he added quietly, "sick white men, too,
when they want it."
Dick spoke feelingly, from experience. He spoke,
too, with an accent that clearly betrayed his nation
ality. One of the decentest fellows in the Group, he
had lost his arm in shooting fish with dynamite, of
which spoil the natives get the lion's share. Yet he
had held the cartridge and bit the fuse with his own
c

34 On the Field
fingers instead of giving it to some luckless boy, as
some do, to throw for him. Beneath his rough bristles
there was a kind heart and a fund of humour. Liked
and trusted by all, even by cannibals, his opinion was
respected. The mate felt the thrust, and suddenly discovered
that he was wanted at the wheel. Seeing me moving,
the little group dispersed.
I slipped out from between the iron rods and sat
up, feeling rather uncomfortable. It was not that
one's motives were unworthy or the qualifications de
fective ; it was the sudden revelation of the atmosphere
one had to live in. A missionary may be the "salt
of the earth," but down here, too, he was still to be,
like the "city set on a hill," a mark for the enemies'
guns and a target for every shaft. Doubtless it is
well so.
If in pioneering one has to eat with closed or un
observant eyes, and ask no questions for the poor
stomach's sake, equally true is it that one must with
open eyes see many things, and ask no questions for
the conscience' sake. Ten years of the commercial
steam services, French and English, in which all
classes rub elbows, have wrought a great change in
the social life of the Group. It was no uncommon
thing in the early 'Nineties to see a trader of the old
style coming aboard in island costume — pyjamas —
leading a dusky belle. They were setting out to
begin life in another island. There is no " marriage
bureau" in the New Hebrides, and the missionary
does not always live next door. "There is an en
gagement," of course, but it is not of the usual kind.
At the end of three years the woman may obtain
her pay and release, and go home. The " kids "

Dreams and Realities 35
remain with the father. Their mother may have to
go, whether she likes it or not.
However, there are some noble exceptions. Dick
was one. He brought a Samoan girl with him from
the East, and settled with her on an islet here. They
had been living together many years before I met
them. In certain company there is no subject re
garding which these men are more reticent than that
of their domestic relationships.
" No," he said confidingly, " I'm not going through
any white -tie ceremony now. Anis and me are man
and wife. I was a wild wanderin' fellow, and I took
her and she took me, and she's been a good gal to me
all the way along. We're married afore God more 'n
some as have a score o' prayin' parsons in at the feast.
And I'm not agoing to bring a blush to her face now
by making her think we ain't."
And he kept his word to the end.
If one is to be of service to these men and prove
their friend, it will not do to " elevate the nostrils "
and affect a moral superiority. They are quick to
scent a Pharisee, and woe betide him. They don't
want you to condone their offences, but it is in the
bond that you should be able to " eat and drink with
publicans and sinners," and enjoy a good joke with
them when one comes along. Even an ex -convict
claims to be a judge of true Christianity, and of yours
in particular. Any deflection of the needle from the
pole soon becomes the subject of unfavourable com
ment, and the ship's deck is the market-place for
island gossip. It is not necessary for a story to be
true; it is enough that it fits the man and ought to
be so. Some one of the missionaries had got into
their bad books, and a story was being told about

36 On the Field
him with much quiet chuckling. Their voices had
mingled with our sleep and had given colour to our
dreams. Yet we liked these men. Perhaps it was that we
had come determined to like them and to find their
good points. After all, they were but big brothers
who had wandered from home a few years earlier,
and had somewhat missed the track.

37

CHAPTER II.
The Search.
It took about a fortnight to make the jaunt round
the northern islands. We were anxious to find a
healthy site for a central hospital to serve the whole
Group, and at the same time to bring the healing
art to play on savagery in its pristine nakedness.
There were two islands that had special attractions
and claims — Santo (north-east) and Ambrym. The
former was not only the largest in the Group and
the first extensive island to be discovered in the Pacific,
but it contained the site of De Quiros' prospective city,
the "New Jerusalem," and his river "Jordan." The
records show that at first the relations between the
islanders and the voyagers was cordial enough. But,
after a few days, Spanish improprieties and arrogance
stirred the resentment of the natives. The chief, " with
perfect justice," drew a line upon the sand, and forbade
the white man to cross it. In defiance, the sub-
captain, Torres, stepped over it. Instantly an arrow
rang against his steel corselet. A volley was the re
sponse. The chief and several of his followers bit
the dust. Thus the whites were the first aggressors.
The people at North Santo, too, had reached the
length of making simple but artistic pottery. And so

38 On the Field
far its heathenism was almost untouched. But it is
away from the centre.
Ambrym, on the other hand, is central. It is a
garden of cocoa-nut palms, and for its size is about
the most populous island of all. Selwyn, Patteson,
Copeland, Mackenzie, Paton, and others had landed
upon its shores, and my two predecessors had built
a house at Ranon in a bay at the north-east. After
a few months of arduous service, each had been com
pelled to retire in broken health. For four or five
years the people had been without a missionary, and
the committee in New Zealand, to whom that island
had been assigned as a field, were desirous to resume
the work there as soon as possible should the locality
be found suitable. But I was left a free hand.
Soon after daybreak on a Sunday morning we
steamed into the bay on Santo that seemed most
desirable for our purpose.
Two or three miles up the coast we had passed
a station manned by two Catholic priests, the first
missionaries on this side. We must give these their
due, for, as a rule, they were seldom first in this field.
The sun shone brightly down on a sheet of blue
water. Behind us a timbered island, shaped like a
high -crowned broad -brimmed hat, closed in the en
trance. On either side limestone cliffs rose abruptly
from the water's edge, green vines trailing adown their
face. At the head of the bay a white beach sloped
gently down from the woods to the water's edge.
But there was no sign of life, or of human habita
tion. Again and again the steamer's whistle awoke
the echoes from far and wide, and at ' last a crowd
was seen gathering on the sand.
A smart lad, who had been in Queensland and

The Search 39
could speak a little English, came off in a canoe
and clambered on board. David, our warm-hearted
colleague and cicerone, and one of the purest, most
guileless souls that ever set foot on a deck, was soon
in conversation with him, and sent him off to summon
the people to come and meet us.
David had his own story to tell, and carried a
tragedy and a great disappointment hidden in his
breast. We had passed his station on one of the
savage islands a little farther south. During a pre
liminary visit to that island one of the bigger chiefs
had expressed a willingness to receive him, and had
promised to light a fire on the beach as a signal on
the return of the vessel. The day came, and they
looked in vain for the smoke. A few miles farther
on they saw a fire, landed, and were welcomed. When
the other chief heard of the arrival, though the fault
was on his side, he was indignant. He was feared by
all the lesser tribes around, including the people among
whom David had settled. Indeed, he was accustomed
to send now to one village, now to another, and de
mand a human " roast." The petty chiefs dared not
refuse, and at one time a child, at another a well-fed
youth, had to be given up and sent along, pig fashion,
slung to a pole, to fill the maw of the man-eater.
Now his ill-will was directed against the mission
ary, and bullets began to find their way through the
windows of the mission-house. At nightfall the doors
had to be closed and barred, and if a light were re
quired, the windows had first to be blanketed. Other
wise the missionary and his wife sat in darkness from
sundown till bedtime. One night, hearing a noise on
the verandah, he stepped out into the darkness, and
was confronted by a bright flash and a loud report.

40 On the Field
But the bullet missed its mark and the miscreant fled.
Such trials are not without their due physical effect,
and " shattered nerves " result. About this time a
brother and a sister missionary arrived for company
and aid, the latter also with "shattered nerves." A
catastrophe followed, over which we draw the veil.
David had shortly to forgo the ambitions of his
young life and rejoin his wife in Australia. He is
now shepherding a portion of his Master's flock in the
droughty inland west. Happy the people who have
such a shepherd.
After a hurried breakfast a boat was manned, and
we were pulled rapidly to the shore. Suddenly the
supercargo, a stalwart German, rose up in the boat
with the cry —
" This is madness : we'll all be murdered. There
isn't a weapon in the boat."
We all smiled, my wife too ; and at David's calm
response, " No, no ; that is where our safety lies,"
he subsided into his seat.
Nowhere have I seen more beautiful shallows. The
deeper pools were tinted with the colours of the sky.
Nearer the shore the rippling water, clear as a
crystal prism, scattered the rays of the morning sun,
and transformed the golden grains below to gleam
ing opal.
But there was little time to admire, for we were
already in touch with the black crowd before us.
The men were armed with muskets and belts of cart
ridges, the women and children with long knives.
They believed our mission to be one of peace, but
were prepared for emergencies. Strong arms drew the
boat to land, and we all jumped out, — all except my
wife. David called the chief and asked him to bid

The Search 41
his people lay down their arms, for we had none,
and the lady too would come ashore. In a few
moments muskets and knives were piled in a heap on
a bank in the shade of the wood, and two youths,
like shining statues, proudly mounted guard. Then
we had a good look at one another, and many and
various were the questions put. But eyes and tongues
were not enough, and soon their hands were busy.
To the women and girls their white sister was the
centre of attraction. White feathers adorned their
own hair, and the sight of a white wing in the little
grey felt hat drew their smiles and formed a bond of
sympathy. Softly they touched it, and gazed with
cries of delight at the rosy cheeks, blue eyes, and
golden hair. But the acme of excitement was reached
when a sleeve was unbuttoned and revealed an arm
of purest white. Their eyes sparkled; their delight
knew no bounds; and they found relief in a chorus
of shrill voices, waving their hands and dancing on
the sand.
Leaving them thus occupied, we turned our atten
tion to the men. Some of them were broad, deep-
chested fellows, and I drew out my tape to measure the
tallest. Two or three of them were six feet or over.
We questioned them. Did they want a missionary?
Would they sell him land? Yes, they were quite
willing; and led us away to see the ground. Then
we had to go and see their village too. An hour or
two sped by quickly, and we once more gathered to
the boat.
With the cry, " Very good, you come back soon ! "
they pushed us off, and we returned to the steamer.
We were never there again. Two years afterwards
a young Scotsman — a Glasgow graduate — with his

42 On the Field
wife settled in their midst, but not before those
pearly waters had been stained with blood.
A few days later we were dropping anchor in Ranon
Bay. Rocco & Son were settled here on the white
sands, doing a big trade in copra. A quarter of a
mile farther along the shore, on a stony bluff, and
partly hidden by an iron-wood tree, was the pioneer
mission-house. We passed Rocco senior going to the
steamer in his boat as we pulled ashore, so I did
not visit his station. Report credited him with being
rather a fierce neighbour. At the mission landing the
sea water was muddy and uninviting, soiled by a neigh
bouring stream. There was no beach, but a stretch
of cobble-stones washed up by storms.
We climbed up the track. Perched on huge cobble
stones laid singly, some on their edge and some on the
flat, and looking down on the sea, was the house — of
two rooms and a lean-to. It smelt fusty from long
disuse, lacked paint, and had been officially described
as a " shell." It was more than that. It was a tomb
of sad memories — a dead wife, a broken heart, an un
hinged mind, ruined hopes ! It had been built, and
that neatly, before the days of steamers ; and there
were many worse houses in the Group.
The native church at the rear, built of thatch and
reeds, had collapsed. The preacher's desk had fallen
to the ground, and was occupied by a huge black
tusker. At my approach he jumped to his feet and
ran off, grunting out his irritation.
Needless to remark, my spirits were damped, and
my heart sank. But for faith in a Living Flame —
ever-present, invisible, omnipotent — one might have
been tempted to turn and flee in despair. At such
a time one's soul feels naked and powerless ; feeble

The Search 43
in the face of a foreign tongue, hostile neighbours,
and entrenched heathenism. And the lower the grade
(this was pretty low), the more difficult is it to assail.
A glance over a stone wall in the village at some
carved and painted images had revealed a degree of
depravity that was hideous. And here was I, come
to fight and transform all this, with an Idea, and
from such a fulcrum.
Yet are we told that " an idea is still the alchemist
that turns the world to gold." And already there was
a ray of light shining amid the dreariness. Kalasong,
the teacher, had beat the school drum ; and, in re
sponse, some twenty to thirty ill - looking, limping
specimens, of all sizes and both sexes, gathered on
the verandah. To honour the occasion they had
hastily donned their five-year-old shirts, sere and
yellow with smoke and age.
Looking round for a seat, I inquired of Kalasong
what those old biscuit-barrels contained, — there were
two in the driest part of the verandah. We stepped
up to them and looked in.
"What's this, Kalasong?"
" Straw."
"What straw?"
" From the mattresses."
Honest fellow ! As the rats had devoured the bed
ding he had gathered up the falling straws and saved
them for the new missionary. Ultra-honest boy !
How could one fail to be tickled, and, indeed,
re-heartened ?
However, I preferred to build on a virgin founda
tion, and at a spot more central to the Group. A
few hours later we were anchored near Dip Point,
the most westerly angle of the island. Here we found

44 On the Field
a fine anchorage for ships, and an extended reef pro
tecting the shore, with good boat passages. The
beach was of black sand, but the water was clear, and
the bathing grounds ample and safe.
Best of all, from the Peak, a spur of which, termin
ating abruptly, forms the Point, most of the islands
could be sighted, and we were right in the track of
the shipping. But could we get land ?
We wandered along through the woods to the village,
and when we saw the people, sitting in dust, working
in dust, and more or less covered with dust, and black
dust at that, I confess my heart gravitated towards my
boots again.
Nevertheless their need was the greater. They
could not help being dusty. The soil is of volcanic
ash, and when dry resembles fine gunpowder.
When, at a later date, Will and I took a day to
explore, the mercury in the spiritual barometer rose
again. We found there were ten villages within a
gunshot of the mission site. And we went home
singing " Praise God from whom all blessings flow."
We found, too, what time also proved true, that these
children of the woods fall readily in love with a merry
nature, as they are slow to draw to one who is staid
and solemn.
On the beach, after much hunting, we at length
came upon the chief. He was followed by a troop
of red, white, and black terriers. They were his body
guard by day and night. Yes, he would sell us a site,
and at once trotted us round a triangular block, right
between the boat-landings. But he was not going to
take barter for land ; it must be pigs and some tobacco,
the coin of his realm. We deferred the purchase to a
later visit.

'CHILDREN OF THE WOODS.'

The Search 45
On the shore we faced each other again to say fare
well. He looked at me, and I looked at him. In that
brief glance we summed each other up.
" Here," said he to himself, " is the man I want.
Now I'll have a boat, pigs, tobacco, axes, knives,
calico, desirable things of all kinds. True, he's a
missionary ; but that doesn't concern me. Best of
all, I'll be the biggest chief on the coast, and have
protection from the bushmen. Moreover, he seems a
pleasant fellow, and shows one respect. Can't go far
wrong in taking him. Am sure he's soft and easily
managed." And said I to myself, " I like the chief. He's a
pleasant old fellow — though not so old either. Can't
see much of his eyes ; but he has a passable face, and
a fairly good smile ; seems genial, and unobtrusive, and
does not say much. Should get on well here with such
an ally. Feel sure he's soft and easily managed."
Again we were aboard, and the little steamer was
ploughing her way southwards.
The object of our search had been gained.

46

CHAPTER III.
No Man's Land.
It was about ten in the morning. Once more we had
dropped anchor — this time in an open roadstead, but
close inshore. A long white beach lay spread out
before us. A small station, consisting apparently of
a one-roomed house and some outbuildings or sheds,
over which the tricolour floated, formed the point of
interest. To the rear of this the bush-covered hills
rose to a central ridge, whose outline against the
sky resembled the back of a whale. It was known as
the Isle of Fair Women, being peopled by the fairest
skinned of all the tribes, and one that freely bartered
away its maidens, a commodity much in demand
among a certain class.
" Are you going ashore, Doctor ? "
" Certainly, if we may, Captain."
We jumped into the black boat with its brown
gunnel, David and I. And glad was I of my com
panion's company and assistance in this work of
prospecting. "Who lives here, Mr Kay? " Kay was the supercargo.
"Jean Pasquin, the shell-carver. Take a look round
when you're there. He's a clever sort of chap. You
may see something that will interest you."

No Man's Land

47

" They're a hard-hearted lot here, sir," said one of
the white sailors as we neared the shore. The boat's
crew consisted usually of natives with two whites.
" Why do you say that, Jack ? " He had hesitated,
needing a little encouragement to proceed.
" I was round here last year, sir, in a labour ship,
and we pulled in just t'other side of those rocks at
yon point, to pick up some boys. There was a man
and his girl — a young couple they seemed. She had
a youngster, who began yelling at sight of the boat.
" ' Can't take that youngster ! ' the boss shouted.
" The woman said she wanted to come too.
" ' No ; we can't ship that squalling little beast.
Leave him with his auntie.'
" There was no ' auntie ' in sight. So the kanaka,
after taking a look around, caught the kiddy by the
heels, swung her round like a rabbit, and dashed her
head agin a tree. ' She was only a girl, anyway,' he
said, and slung her body into the scrub. Then they
both hopped into the boat and were shipped aboard."
"The  brute! " muttered Kay under his breath.
" Ship oars ! " And the boat grated on the sand.
A wizened, grey little man with a goat-beard, and
dressed in loose pyjamas and slippers, was waiting for
us on the beach. He was thin and wiry, and little
more than a skeleton, a libere or ex-convict from New
Caledonia. " Good morning, monsieur ; any copra ? "
"Yes."" Are you wanting any stores or trade ? "
" Yes. Come up to my house and we will arrange."
There was no mistaking the accent and nationality.
We were introduced, and told to make ourselves at
home; but the welcome was not given with great

48 On the Field
heartiness. The house did consist of one room. It
was built of concrete, smoothly plastered, and furnished
with green louvred shutters. The floor was raised
several feet above the ground, and a trap-door in the
floor led to the cellar beneath. The work was well
done, for the islands, by a Chinese carpenter, who
afterwards came to our assistance on Ambrym. A
high double bed, high almost as its owner, filled most
of the space — for the room was only about twelve feet
square — and the mosquito-nets and sheets were invit
ingly clean. But when we raised our eyes to the
enlarged photographs arranged artistically around the
walls our vision failed us. It was as though our
"inner man" had received a sudden blow. Woman
— the pure, the beautiful, the embodiment of all that
is holiest — was here so depicted, that Hell itself, from
its bottomless pits, could furnish nothing more profane.
" Let us go for a stroll." We were glad to escape
to the outside, to inhale large draughts of the fresh
air, and look upon the unsullied purity of sea and sky.
We turned to the right along the sand, and a few
yards away passed an open shed, the workshop of
the shell-carver. His bench was covered with bottles
of acid, fine chisels, gouges, and files. A grindstone
stood near by, and a small circular saw worked by a
treadle. Here at odd times every day he sat behind
his bench and polished the shells, being shaded from
the sun by the rustling palms and an awning of faded
cocoa-nut leaves, which stretched across the front of
the shop. It was his hobby this — to portray in
mother-of-pearl the treasures of his mind, such as
they were ; and some of his work was truly beautiful.
Here, too, he filled in some idle hours, gazing across
the sea, above whose far horizon the distant islands

No Man's Land 49
peeped as faint blue clouds. Unmolested, he could
sit absorbed in reverie and dream of "la belle France,"
which he still loved ; whose curse had doomed him
to years of manacles and prison walls, and, now, to
exile among these " cursed hogs " at the ends of the
earth. Yet Jean Pasquin was not unhappy. Was he not
free ? Could he not, within certain limits, very wide
limits, " play the devil " with all and sundry, including
his own base self? Nay ; he was a master, an employer
of labour, virtually an owner of slaves, with whom he
also " played the devil."
Poor Pasquin ! France fondly hailed him as one
of her " lost ones." And they in their revels smiled
and responded, "Te morituri salutamus." Had she
ever given them a chance to be anything better ?
Why do the French, "the most artistic and beauty-
loving people on the face of the globe," thus expose
their blots and failures to the gaze of all nations?
We tramped along the sand for a few hundred yards,
and seeing a track, followed it into the bush. The
sound of voices and the bark of a dog told us that
a village was near. Quickening our steps, we were
soon in the midst of the huts. We saw a group of
women intent on some operation, and went up to
them. They were dyeing mats in crimson patterns,
and we found the process interesting. Before the
principal woman, who acted as designer, a mat was
spread out. From a vessel containing the liquid
dye, slips of dried leaf, of various lengths, soaking in
the dye, were selected. These were laid on the mat
in regular order, so as to form the patterns. The mat
was then carefully rolled up and fastened, and placed
in an old canoe containing water and hot stones
D

50 On the Field
covered with leaves. Then the whole was covered
over securely with leaves and earth, so as to enclose
the steam. When the mat had been duly steamed,
dried, and again unrolled, the pattern was found trans
ferred in bright colour to its surface.1
A warning whistle from the steamer bade us hasten
back. When we reached the boat, we found the
captain there, and the labour boys fetching the last
sacks of copra from the smoke-house.
" Hurry up, Kay ! "
It was the captain shouting. Kay came out of the
wood and hurried down to the boat. As he jumped
in the captain exclaimed —
" What's the matter, man ? What makes you so
white in the gills ? "
Kay, whose face was whiter than the coral beach,
seemed scarcely able to speak. Waving his hand to
wards the steamer he whispered hoarsely —
"By-and-by." Half an hour later we forgathered on the bridge
in anticipation. As soon as the boats were hoisted
and the steamer under way, Kay appeared. For the
most part he had regained his colour, and anger was
fast taking the place of fright.
"Captain," he blurted out, "that fellow" (pointing
to the shore) " is a devil escaped from Hell."
" Must be," said the skipper, keeping his eyes
steadily on the point of land ahead. "Judging
from your face, I doubt if the devil himself could
give a man a worse fright. But what happened
to you ? "
"You know," said Kay, "that I went into the bush
1 I quote from memory. According to Codrington, it is also applied
by means of a stencil cut out of banana leaf.

No Man's Land 51
a few steps just at the finish. There I heard a
tremendous buzzing close by. I thought I'd take a
look and see the cause. ' Blue-jays' in plenty were
knocking around, heaps of them ; the very leaves were
black with them. I wondered what they were after.
By heavens ! I shan't be so curious another time. In
a bit of cleared space I found a carcass hanging to
the bough of a tree. I took it for a pig at first ; the
blessed 'jays ' were so thick one couldn't be sure.
God's truth ! it was a corpse. Some poor devil of
a kanaka, hung up by the wrists, and beaten to death.
His back was thrashed to a pulp, and those 
flies  ," he went to the side of the ship.
" Come, Kay," said the skipper, " you've made a
mistake. It must have been a pig."
"No, sir; I'm telling the truth. I took a walk
round to the other side, and that's what gave me the
fright. Poor devil ! " he muttered, raising his hand
to his eyes as if to shut out the horrible sight. " He
must have killed that boy yesterday. I heard some
of the labour boys say that Tom would help them no
more. He'd filled his last bag. 'The boss, he kill1
him along bush yesterday.' "
" Can nothing be done, Captain ? "
He turned towards us. " What do you mean ? "
"To prevent such atrocities ? "
" Well, that is for you gentlemen to say. You must
see that it is a very difficult matter to prove a case
of this kind. He's a French subject, and months
may elapse before a French man-o'-war could get here
to investigate ; and where, then, are your witnesses ?
Are you going to rely on the word of these ' boys ' ?
No fear ; ' mum ' is the word for them ; and they
1 Pigeon English for "beat," severely or fatally.

52 On the Field
know it. Some of them would swear anything to
save their own skins, and small blame to 'em."
" But you can't let a thing like this pass."
" Let a thing like this pass ! " replied the captain,
pitching his voice in a higher key. " It don't pass.
Look here, gentlemen ; this is a ' No man's land,' no
doubt about that, but there's a rough sort of justice
here all the same. It don't pay a man to play the
scoundrel in these parts. Any man who plays that
game is only qualifying to be his own judge and
executioner. You couldn't wish him a worse punish
ment than the fate he's preparing for himself. That
poor kanaka don't feel the 'jays.' They can't make
his skin creep. He's gone, poor devil. But don't
the old Book say (you should know) that a ' blood
thirsty man won't live out half his days ' ? Well,
mark my words. Those flies will have him too,"
waving his hand back towards the spot we had left,
"and what's more, they'll eat him alive. So don't worry
about punishing him. As for the kanakas, well, better
times are coming, or you gentlemen wouldn't be here."
The old captain's speech may have lacked both
passion and logic. But there was a something behind
its ruggedness — call it faith if you will — that calmed
one's indignation and incited to greater effort. Doubt
less he was only generalising from his past experience ;
nor do we for a moment think that he anticipated any
such fulfilment of his words.
Yet, in this instance, as the future will show, his
words came literally true.1
1 Some years have passed since transportation was stopped, and we
have been assured that incidents like the above have ceased to be.
However, a writer in a recent number of ' The New Hebrides Magazine '
appears to be of a different opinion.

CHAPTER IV.
The Black Man's Fate.
In company with David — for all the missionaries are
experienced in medical work — I was summoned to
attend a young French planter and his English wife.
We rode on horseback for a mile or two along the
beach, and then through densely crowded plantations
of bananas. Buried among the foliage in one of these,
we found the house, a plastered concrete structure, of
which the enthusiastic owner was justly proud. His
wife, though suffering, was as bright and clean as her
irons and the ironing on which she was engaged. For
the labour, all except one boy who was mixing mortar,
were busy on the shore, getting the bananas to market.
The mail-steamer had arrived for her cargo ; the trade
with Sydney was brisk ; and the planters were rejoic
ing in the prospect of quick returns.
It was still afternoon when we got back, and we
sat down on the deck to watch the crowds of kanakas
trudging along in the soft sand. " Boys " and women
of all ages were there ; some with the bunches poised
on their heads, others balancing them over their
shoulders by the long stalks. All were heavily laden.
Some occasionally sank down and rested on the sand
as if unequal to the task, and were helped up and on
again by friendly hands.

54 On the Field
On deck there was a busy scene. Officers and men
were hurrying to get the steamer away. Boats, heaped
up with the green bananas till their gunnels were level
with the water, were jostling one another around the
gangways, up which the huge bunches followed one
another in quick time. The kanakas were being
hustled along with a sprinkling of mild oaths by a
burly Portuguese bo'sun.
" Now, Doctor, I reckon that is the way kanakas
ought to work. You can't make them do this on
their own islands."
The passenger who spoke thus was an ex-captain
of the merchant marine. He had recently been
appointed British Consul to a neighbouring Group.
Thus far, from his trips among the Pacific islands, he
had come to know the natives only from the outside.
Indeed, he had once dropped the remark that these
people were scarcely above the level of orang-outangs.
It is quite true that the natives will not work thus
on their own islands. There they are free men ; here
they were little better than slaves. I use the word
advisedly. Recruited from other islands by men who
often ignore all tribal or family rights — of chief, father,
or husband — whose only object is to secure a profit
able cargo, the natives, once away from their own
" passage " (landing-place), were at the mercy of their
masters. Brought to a place such as this, they were
disembarked and drawn up in line on the road above
the beach for inspection, and were disposed of to the
planters at the highest figure the skipper could obtain.
At the end of three years, if the engagement were
honourably fulfilled, the native would receive his pay
and be returned to his island.
In this inter-island recruiting, while the French

The Black Man's Fate 55
were "absolutely unrestricted," British subjects were
virtually prohibited from taking part — as they were
also from the sale or barter of liquor, firearms, and
explosives. The British Government is apparently
actuated by two motives : to protect the interests of
the natives, and to keep the hands of its own subjects
clean. Meanwhile the French had been trying to obtain
possession at all costs, and to make the islands
the happy hunting-ground of Noumean ex-convicts.
Coupled with this were the forced sales and fraudulent
seizure of lands, of which the grab at Iririki, the islet
which dominates the principal harbour, was the crown
ing example. The grab failed; for the rights of
British subjects were affected, and the Foreign Office
was appealed to. But the natives in the outlying
islands had no Foreign Office to interfere for them.
An ignorant, innocent native affixed his mark to a
deed, selling an acre of land on the beach. A few
years later the deed is produced before a Commission
(possibly by some one who has purchased the piece
of paper in good faith), and is found to specify a
square mile. Strife, the uprooting of gardens and
fences, the burning of huts and schools, and possibly
bloodshed, may follow, and the native goes to the
wall. Indeed, were it not for the missionaries, who
at the present moment have some thirty stations
with flourishing schools and churches, who have, and
have had, amongst their number men of the first
standing from American, Colonial, and the Home
universities and divinity halls, including such names
as Williams, Turner, the Selwyns, Patteson, Inglis,
Geddie, the Gordons, Paton, and others equally
famous, the dismal fate of these islands and islanders

56 On the Field
would long since have been sealed. For upwards of
fifty years these men, at the cost of lives, and vessels
lost, and hundreds of thousands of pounds expended
by the Churches they represent, have held and manned
the Group, directly for their Master, and indirectly
for the Empire.
What would have been the fate of these tribes if
France had got her way and filled the islands with
convicts, is not difficult to imagine.1 The Colonies
barred her scheme. Happily a new constellation has
risen in these parts — for the British, and, if Britons
be still Britons, for the black races too. It seems
to me that the great star in the Commonwealth flag
represents Sirius, the Dog Star — brightest in the
Southern sky — keeping watch on the confines of the
Empire; keeping watch, too, under the light of the
Cross. May that watch be long kept, nobly and un
selfishly, true to the flag.
As the convict scheme has failed, owing to opposi
tion on the part of the Colonies, the French are trying
to give weight to their claims by sending out a more
worthy class of settlers ; and competition between the
two nationalities is keen. But the bulk of the trade
persists in following the union-jack ! One result
of the Missions, whose stations cover the whole
Group in a network, is, that a white man whose hands
1 The French have now a new solution to offer — viz. , the definite sup
pression of convict transportation to New Caledonia in exchange for the
total cession of the New Hebrides. " New Caledonia needs labour.
Now, the New Hebrides possess a large reserve of native labourers, whom,
the day we were completely master of the Archipelago, we should be
able to use for the development of New Caledonia. That island could
then do without convicts." — 'La Mois Colonial.'
Some people seem unable to rise to the conception of the black as a
brother man. To them he is still a beast of burden, fitted to fill the
convict's shoes, and, possibly — his chains.

The Black Man's Fate 57
have not already been imbrued may land almost any
where in perfect safety. Yet some Britishers, whose
sympathies are averse to mission work, and whose
eyes are entranced by the sight of a few flourishing
plantations, are disposed to think that the French
have as good a claim. So it appeared to be with our
fellow-passenger. I turned to him.
" Captain," I said, "you have touched on a question
at once medical and ethical. In fact, you have grasped
a double-barrelled gun, and, if I mistake not, the
trigger end is in my hands."
He looked puzzled.
"How so?"
" Well, in the first place, these natives are not con
stituted for such hard work. We, as missionaries, live
with them, study them, and know them. You and
others blame us for not teaching them to work in this
style. I tell you they are not able for it. Look at
those 'boys' on the jetty yonder. One of them came
to me with a ruptured vessel at the back of the eye.
He was carrying a sack of potatoes, and suddenly went
blind in that eye. Another was lifting a sack of flour
and strained his back. Inflammation followed, and
he was carried to hospital, and his pelvis found to be
riddled with abscesses. The sacral wedge, or keystone
of the pelvic arch, had given way. There was no
hope for him ; and he died after a few weeks of pro
fuse suppuration.
"It is the same with the natives who go to
Queensland. They can't stand the long hours, and
the sudden changes of climate ; and you know the
great reproach against the trade is, that it kills three
or four kanakas to one white man. Their tissues are
too soft. They get consumption ; come home to die ;

58 On the Field
and infect their fellows. Look at Aneityum. Five
thousand people there have dwindled down to some
five hundred. The same dismal fate apparently awaits
them all. Of six young men who joined one of our
mission-stations a few years ago, all about the same
age, and apparently in good health, four are dead —
their deaths seemingly due to the extra strain thrown
upon their physical and mental powers by contact
with white men. It is sheer nonsense to say that
these kanakas can do work on plantations that white
men cannot stand. Say, if you will, that the black
skin is the cheaper article, despite the death-rate, and
we understand each other."
" Well, then, of what other use are they ? "
" I should say, adjust their work to their strength.
One would get more out of them — for it does not pay
to work even a machine beyond its strength. Com
mercially, too, judging from the bloody history of the
Pacific and the risks taken, they seem to make pretty
valuable cargoes. There's the Rio Loge yonder with
some 150 labour aboard. That, at ten pounds a-head,
means £"1500. It beats gold-mining or pearl-diving.
They are worth handling with care."
"True; but your mission seems to have been pretty
hard on its own staff."
" No ; they were allowed three hours' rest in the
heat of the day, and half a day off on Wednesdays
and Saturdays. One got a wetting in the boat;
another took measles ; a third was persecuted by his
people ; and in each case consumption laid hold of
them, and they failed to reach their prime."
"Apparently, then," said the captain with a smile,
"they are best left entirely to themselves, even as
regards missionaries."

The Black Man's Fate 59
"Not so, Captain. You must not blame us for
introducing the bacillus. Its introduction is recent,
and I have already indicated the source. It is slow,
insidious, and the most deadly foe they have. True,
left to themselves for ages, these races flourished and
spread. In that condition, dwelling in the darkness
of savagery, the Gospel pure and simple would have
come to them as to other nations, as " the dawn from
on high." But times have changed. Now the flood
of the white invasion is upon them, with its vices,
epidemics, and stress of life. The Gospel is still the
best gift civilisation has for them.1 We missionaries
must help them to rise with and upon the tide, and
try to secure for them at least the recognition of the
golden rule, ' Do ye unto them as ye would that men
should do unto you.' "
" Can nothing save the black races ? "
" Yes. Help them to maintain their self-respect,
and let them see that they too have a share in the
future. Nothing kills like contempt. That more
than all  "
" Can't you get them along without the swearing,
mate ? "
It was David's voice. He was calling down to the
Portuguese bo'sun.
The latter looked up in blank astonishment, feigning
innocence. " Swearin' ? I was teachin' 'em to avoid bad
language." "You're teaching them bad English, anyway."
1 " Iron, tobacco, calico, a wider knowledge of the world, have not
compensated native people for new ^ diseases and the weakening of social
bonds. " — Codrington.

60 On the Field
A smile went round the lower deck. The bo'sun
grinned. There was that in David's tone which
forbade him taking offence. The swearing ceased.
" I was saying that contempt, more than all the
white man's diseases and vices, is to blame for destroy
ing the black races. Annexation, followed by edu
cation and paternal control, might save even these
soft islanders. The Maori was dying out, but since
there have been a Native Department and Minister,
Maori representatives in Parliament, and the Maori
King on the Executive, the decrease has ceased. The
ebbing tide has turned. The same experiment is now
to be tried in Fiji. Give the black man hope, and a
measure of kindly help. Under British justice, tax
ation and representation go together. Educate him
and give him a share of both; and as he regains his
courage and self-respect, his virility will return."
" Is he worth it ? "
" Surely, even as cheap labour."
I took the lowest ground. For even the average
Britisher is slow to see in his black brother anything
more than a useful slave. In the ears of the majority
it is as though the echo of the curse — "A servant of
servants shall he be unto his brethren" — was still
heard across the centuries.
Nevertheless, our success as an Empire in ruling
the dark races is due to our recognition of the fact
that, though they are servants, they are also brothers.
To put them on a lower plane is to degrade our
selves, and to fail as other nations have done.
" Do you really think there is any possibility of
saving these islanders ? "

The Black Man's Fate 61
" I am afraid not. They are such a heterogeneous
lot, and are widely infected. They are too decadent
already, and destined to fade away before a hardier
race, brown 1 or white. What we want to see is law
and order established, and justice and kindness dis
pensed. And if, in a Christian colony like Queens
land, the Government find it necessary to institute
hospitals for the kanakas at the planters' expense,
and to appoint inspectors to see that the coloured
labourers get their due amount of food, clothing, and
wage, and that their terms are justly kept, and even
to send an agent for the same purpose with every
labour ship, how much more necessary must it be in
a land like this, where there is no law, and no govern
ment, and foreigners have practically a free hand?
But law and order, founded on right, we shall not
get till a just Power takes possession."
Just then the gong sounded for dinner, and we
hurried below.
When we came on deck again it was dusk. The
anchor had been weighed and the steamer was re
turning up the bay. Meanwhile the bo'sun, his pipe
alight, sat on the combings of the hatch for a brief
rest. David, who had been watching his opportunity,
strolled up and sat beside him.
"You weren't offended, bo'sun, at what I said this
afternoon ? "
" No, sir." He paused to remove his pipe from
his mouth, and spat vigorously into the scuppers.
" Certainly not ! "
1 I say brown advisedly. For, we are told, if the present decline in
the birth-rate in the Colonies continues, " the dream of a great Australian
nation guaranteeing the peace and progress of the Southern World must
soon come to an end."

62 On the Field
"Well, I'd like to show you something that kept
me straight many a time when I was a prentice lad at
the bench among my mates, if I may."
" Heave ahead, sir."
" Here it is." He drew a Gospel, bound in red
calf, from his breast pocket. It was a treasured com
panion, well marked inside. The leaf was turned
down at one text. David read it out —
"But I say unto you, that every idle word that men
shall speak, they shall give account thereof at the day of
judgment." " It's the Master's own word, bo'sun, and I'll give
it to you if you'll look at it sometimes."
" I'll find a corner for it, sir."
And he did, in the bottom of his big sea-chest.
Whether he ever looked into it again to scan its
many priceless gems is another question. But, when
ever a foul word rose to his lips, there rose up also
the vision of a little red book. He remembered that
it contained a message for him ; and that it was
folded up in a yellow silk handkerchief once worn by
his mother, and was hidden away among his treasures,
gathered on the sea.

63

CHAPTER V.
The Labour Trade.
" Stop talking clotted nonsense, and organise us an
Institute ! "
We were at Synod. Will had not come, but had
sent a letter instead. The Clerk, a dignified man,
tallest of us all, with flowing beard and a deep bass
voice, paused, and glanced at the Moderator.
" Oh, go on, it's only Goddard," interjected a dapper
little man in white ducks, sitting in the front bench.
The truth was, Will's words sometimes fell like the
blows of a sledge-hammer. He could be as hard as
adamant when brought face to face with wrong-doing
in those who ought to know better. Consequently he
had enemies. Antipathies were stirred and opposition
roused where gentleness and suavity might have been
crowned with success. While the sight of great
wrongs wrought upon his soul till it burned like a slow
furnace, it was the pin -pricks that rasped and irri
tated, producing sudden sputterings and explosions of
temper. The offenders were somewhat singed there
by, and resented it accordingly. So far as I knew
him, this was Will's only fault, if it can be called one.
On starting out in life there was, to me, in the
whole world, one man at least who could be called a

64 On the Field
saint ; and he was advertised as such. In later years
we met, and — my ideal was shattered. But I owe him
a debt, for he did me a service. Thereafter I ceased
to expect perfect men and took a saner view. Nor
have I been disappointed. One looks within, sus
picious of defects in self; grows tolerant of faults in
others ; and gathers hope for all mankind.
For we are all made of the same stuff, the best
being moulded out of faults, and every one but a man
in the making. And the perfection of the saints, in
this life at least, resembles more the product of soap
and the bag of blue than the purity of God's snow.
Possibly the bleaching-ponds are on the road to the
next sphere. Indeed, they must be, if the saint is
to arrive there perfected. But the saints do not so
arrive ; and hence the leaves of healing in the Paradise
of God.
However, the Synod took no offence at Will's
pungent message, and actually did set to work to
establish an Institute. By " clotted nonsense " was
probably meant discussions on trading and tobacco.
One of the crying needs of the Mission was an in
stitution for educating and training a staff of native
evangelists and teachers. Moreover, the Synod went
a step farther. It cordially approved of Dip Point
as a suitable site, being central, for a fully equipped
hospital and medical mission, for black and white.
And as soon as the Synod's business had been com
pleted, we went north again to secure the land.
It was Sunday afternoon, and I had just stepped
aboard the labour ship May to see a patient who was
very ill with fever. On the previous afternoon we
had entered the strait between Nguna and Efate, and
dropped anchor in the broad sheet of blue water in

The Labour Trade 65
front of the mission station. Here we met the May
coming in the opposite direction, bowling towards us
on the wings of a fresh breeze. She had threaded
her way through the narrow passage between the
reefs which, with the aid of an islet, almost block the
strait and unite Nguna with the mainland.
Over these coral reefs the waves rose in successive
hillocks of green, sparkling in the sunshine, and dash
ing themselves to pieces with a sullen roar, to hiss
and glide onward in sheets of harmless foam. Boys
and girls shouted and laughed with glee in the natural
shower-bath, as they dived out of sight beneath the
rolling seas and reappeared shaking the shining drops
from their frizzly locks.
As the anchors dropped and the cables rattled, the
beaches became unwontedly active. Dark figures
rushed along the sand ; the coloured dresses of the
women appeared beneath the trees ; canoes were
pushed into the water and hurriedly paddled to meet
the boats. The work of landing had begun.
To-day all was hushed. Even the waves had ceased
their play. Though the Christian Sunday is not the
Jewish Sabbath, so hallowed had the day become
to the native mind that boys and girls regarded the
plucking of a flower as a breach of sabbath law. No
fault of the missionary's this ; the people's minds are
crude and slow to reason for themselves. He had
been caught in the early morning coming out of the
boat-house, his hands full of tools. "The sabbath
was made for man," and he had possibly been tighten
ing a plank in one of the boats to prevent the ladies
getting a wetting as they went aboard at nightfall.
He was a splendid worker. Enough to say that the
great church was filled three times over that day with
E

66 On the Field
devout worshippers, who themselves paid by their
collections for a large band of teachers. It was the
most visible evidence of successful work we had seen
in the Islands.
Our little steamer, the Croydon, was returning the
missionaries who had met in Synod at Aneityum to
their stations, and introducing new men to the Group.
The May was likewise working her way through the
Islands, landing returned labour at their "passages,"
and picking up new recruits.
"Your cabin is well stocked, Captain."
"Yes," said Captain Spender, glancing round the
walls. They were well lined with hatchets and guns
of various kinds ; with here and there a handsome
Santo spear, glittering with sharks' teeth, or a bunch
of Santa Cruz arrows.
"Whom do you require these for? " I asked, point
ing to an assortment of revolvers.
" Oh, we keep these for the Ambrym boys."
"The Ambrym boys! You're rather hard on my
future parishioners. Why for them more than
others ? "
"Well, they are a surly lot, and always too ready
to give us a welcome of lead."
I eyed the revolvers with more interest. I had no
such weapons, — only a toy the size of my index-finger
and too rusty to fire, which a well-meaning friend
had thrust into my pocket. It disappeared in the
hurricane. " It's a pretty thirsty afternoon, Doctor. What'll
you have ? Guess you don't take spirits. We have
some splendid ginger-ale. Here, boy," to the steward,
" get us some glasses."
" So you're thinking of going to Ambrym," he

The Labour Trade 67
continued. "Yes; they are a surly lot. Yet in
Queensland they say there are no better workers on
the plantations. By the way, we have some ' goods '
on board that will suit you — a parcel of boys from
school at Bundaberg. They are a bright lot, too,
always * making school ' as they call it, and singing
like larks. What say you, Williamson ? " appealing
to the Government agent.
" They seem to mean business," was Williamson's
reply. " You'll see them before you go ashore, if you will ;
and you'll find that the Labour Trade has some good
things in it anyway." This was said in a tone that
manifested some soreness.
The Labour Trade was still carried on under the
dark shadow of the past. " Black -birding," as it
was called, had been a game with some men, as
bloody as it was remunerative. If we are to believe
some of the early reports, whole villages were sold
and the people driven aboard ship like sheep, having
to choose between death and slavery. Within our
memory, canoes have been sunk at the ship's side,
the natives shot in the water if they attempted to
escape, and the boys' throats cut on the ladder to
instil fear into the others. Crimes unspeakable were
committed in the name of civilisation.
But these days were past. Exposure had led to
cessation of the evils. Public opinion compelled the
Governments to interfere. Every ship had now to
be licensed, and had to carry a Government represent
ative or agent, whose presence prevented abuses.
Further, every labour ship had to hoist a black ball
at the masthead to indicate her character to the
islanders. More than this, some of the planters were

68 On the Field
themselves moved to pity, and endeavoured to teach
and Christianise the kanakas while in Queensland.
In these pages I shall speak of the Labour Trade
as I saw it. The reader must know that the older
missionaries were bitterly opposed to it, and felt at
times that they had good cause to curse both the
Trade and its originators. There is no doubt it is
responsible in a large measure for depopulating the
Group, and for retarding the work of the Mission. It
is very hard for a man, after spending the best years
of his life on their education and training, to stand
on the shore and see the cream of his young men
shipped away to Queensland for the benefit of the
planters. These young converts were destined to be
teachers, but suddenly infatuated with a desire to see
the world, they were gone within an hour, often to
return as wrecks or not at all. He must begin his
task all over again with the younger lads, perhaps
with a similar result ; and there was no protection,
nor remedy.
" I understand, Captain, that times are changed."
"Yes," he said, "they have. But the kanakas
haven't changed much, so far as I can see. There
are exceptions, of course," he added ; " but you be
careful when you get to that parish of yours. One
of my mates had a bad time on the east coast of
Ambrym some time ago. He did not like the look
of the people, and kept the boat going along on the
outside of the reef. The ' decoy,' a boy called Bob,
would give him no peace.
" ' Look here, Mr Calton,' he said, * why don't you
let us get into smooth water. I know these fellows.
There's no fight in them.'

The Labour Trade 69
"For a time Calton took no heed. He was no
coward, but one never can tell what is going to
happen. The people were a dangerous -looking set,
and the place unfrequented. Perhaps he had a
presentiment. At that moment Bob interjected —
'"I really believe, boys, our mate is frightened he'll
see the inside of these chaps' stomachs.'
" ' No, Bob,' said he ; 'if anybody will see their
inside, it's you.'
" ' Oh, I'm not afraid o' seein' their tripe.'
" ' Very well ; we'll pull in at the next opening and
give you the chance.'
"A few minutes later they were inside the reef and
steering towards the nearest village. As soon as the
keel grated on the sand, Calton and Bob jumped out,
while the crew, all armed as usual, kept watch by the
boat. The natives seemed very friendly ; and, chatting
merrily, conducted their two visitors into the village.
As it was a common occurrence to see the natives with
arms, — indeed they often bought recruits with these, —
they laid no stress on the fact that two of the crowd
carried muskets, full cock. The chief led them to the
mel, the chief house in the village, for them to admire
the decorations at the principal entrance. Bob laughed
at the daubs of red paint, and saying ' Clever fellow,
my word ! ' pointed at the fragment of a mirror
which, amidst shells and pigs' tusks, occupied the
place of honour under the gable. Impish -looking
heads, the ends of the purlines, carved out of bamboo
roots and coloured red, grinned at them from the
eaves. All at once there was the report of a musket
right behind them, and Bob leaped into the air, and
dropped without a groan, a bloody writhing heap, at

70 On the Field
Calton's feet. His heart had been shot to pieces,
and the whole front of the mel dripped with blood.
The musket had been heavily charged with slugs, and
was fired close at his back. Calton, fearing the same
fate, swift as thought threw one arm around the chief
and the other round a native lad, and grasped them
tightly to himself.
" ' They couldn't shoot me then,' he said, ' without
shooting one of themselves. For once I felt that a
blackfellow's life was as good as a white man's.'
" Just then there was a shout from the bank above
the sea, followed by a volley of musketry. A shower of
bullets scattered the gathering crowd, two or three of
whom lay wallowing in the dust. The boat's crew
had heard the report, and, suspecting mischief, had
run to give assistance. Calton dropped his burden
and ran to his men ; nor did they breathe freely till
they were outside the reef again. They got no recruits
that day.
" So have a care, Doctor, and be content with ex
amining your parishioners from the outside. Come,
now, and see the specimens we have aft."
We went aft to the hatchway and descended into
the hold, which had been transformed into one large
sleeping apartment for the men and boys. Right
round the sides of the ship were one or two broad
wooden shelves about six feet wide, on which they
slept side by side, to the number, perhaps, of a couple
of hundred. The raw recruits when shipped were
each given a coloured loin-cloth and a red blanket.
Those returning from the plantations were, of course,
more or less fully clothed ; and their boxes were piled
in a heap at the bottom of the hatchway. What

The Labour Trade 71
treasures they contained for the folks at home ! — the
gatherings of three, and perhaps of ten years. Sitting
here, hymn-book in hand, were two men, the one tall
and dark with skin of inky tint, the other short and
of a light copper colour. The two types, Papuan and
Malay, are intermingled throughout the Group. They
rose as we descended the ladder.
" Where are your boys, Albert ? "
"The class is finished, Captain, and they go along
deck." I turned to the little fellow and asked him his name.
" Moses."
He was all smiles, and as bright as a navy button.
" How many in your class, Albert ? "
" Eight."
" You all belong to Ambrym ? "
"Yes."" What are you going to do when you get there ? "
" Be missionaries to our fellow-countrymen." H'm !
I thought that was my role.
" Who taught you ? "
" Miss Young, Fairymead Plantation, Bundaberg."
This was a sister of two well-known planters.
Touched with pity for the exiled lads, she had
devoted week-nights and Sabbath afternoons to their
instruction. The " boys " almost worshipped her.
From this beginning the work has spread till all
the larger centres in the land of the sugar-cane have
their mission schools.
"Well, I am coming to your island to help you.
You will look out for me?"
"Yes, yes!"
A few minutes later the boat, to the measured beat

72 On the Field
of the rowlocks, was ripping through the water towards
the shore. The Labour Trade, stained with blood
through its lust for mammon, has slain its thousands ;
but purified by the Christ-born love of a simple maid,
and in right hands —
" Out of the eater had come forth meat, and out of
the strong had come forth sweetness."

73

CHAPTER VI.
Will at Work.
" Will you give the Doctor a lift along the coast ? "
It was not a question of "can you" but "will you,"
for the tough old captain knew that " where there's a
will there's a way," and did not intend to give a loop
hole for a refusal. Moreover, among these distant isles
sea-captains are kings, and have favours to withhold or
dispense. "All right, Captain," responded the individual ad
dressed, Morin by name. He was French, from one of
the Balearic Isles ; spoke English imperfectly, and with
a very foreign accent ; and, dressed in loose blue serge,
wore a sailor's straw hat with fluttering black ribbons.
Thus I was handed over to the tender mercies of a
stranger and a foreigner. He was a kindly simple soul,
and rowed me ashore to his whitewashed, two-roomed,
slab hut, situated about a hundred yards from the
beach. As soon as we had arrived, he led me into
the inner room and introduced me to his "wife," a
fair native girl, and his baby boy. As we stood chat
ting, a stalwart savage in nature's dress reeled into the
room, caught up the baby, rocked it in his arms, and
crowed and chuckled to it; then he gave the little
yellow thing back to its mother, and reeled out again.

74 On the Field
He appeared to be half drunk. Morin took it as a
matter of course.
Morin offered me a smoke, which I declined with
thanks. He produced a plug of golden leaf about the
size of a leg of lamb, and began to shave off enough
from the thick end to fill his pouch.
" What do you think of that ? "
I examined and smelled it. " Seems first-class."
" Well, it's my own growing."
" Why don't you go in for growing it in quantity ? "
" No fear ! No more ! " he laughed musically.
" That would never do. Would spoil our trade in
no time. The natives wanted to get some of the
plants. I had to watch night and day, and was
glad when the last one was pulled up and burned.
No, no ! " and again he laughed.
In the centre of his backyard I observed a heap
of glass bottles, — bottles of every size and shape,
black and white, brown and green ; whisky, brandy,
gin, and wine. I looked at my sober friend, and
was puzzled. Enough liquor had been drunk to
poison a herd of cattle. Still puzzled, I gave up
the problem.
As night approached we were called to dinner. We
dined by the light of a kerosene lamp, and a close
company we were around that little table. There
was Morin, his wife and child; myself; John, a
Queensland boy I had picked up by the way, and
his wife and son, — seven in all. The fare, under these
circumstances, was wonderful. There were sardines,
locally pickled, sausages, boiled fowl, green peas,
cabbage, potatoes, soup, and coffee. I must not omit
the " butler " : he was a fat boy of some sixteen
summers, black as his own pots, stout as a bailie,

Will at Work 75
and waited on us, erect and grave, as if attending a
regal function. To him it appeared to be all that ;
and truly he magnified the importance of his office.
His master, too, with the air of a king, commanded his
services, and obtained full homage. But what amused
me most was the simplicity of the "butler's" dress.
Above, his only garment was a greasy old waistcoat,
open in front from chin to waist, and displaying
gastric proportions more than ample. Below, at
tached to his belt, was a small square of calico that
had once been white. Half an hour later the " butler "
had become scullery boy, and I had to express regret
for disturbing him at his duties. I found him in
the backyard, perched on the edge of a small puddle
in front of his little grass kitchen. Around him on
the mud were the knives, forks, spoons, &c, that
lately had graced the table. It was the " wash up " ;
and what could be simpler? There was only one
party that took offence — the ducks, who seemed highly
indignant at being dispossessed, if only for a few
minutes. Primitive it was, and marvellous the result. There
was the maximum of effect for the minimum of labour,
and no loss of temper withal. If only some of our
troubled housewives could have been there to take
notes. Possibly, though, he would have failed to
convert them.
I spent the night comfortably on a stretcher in the
lean-to at the back ; and in the morning, after a long
and weary wait, with a stomach aching for the French
breakfast which did not appear till near noon, I was
overjoyed to see Will's boat heading towards the
landing. Bidding Morin a hearty good-bye, we set out on

76 On the Field
the return journey. Towards evening we landed,
picnicked, and again hastened the boat forward with
sail and oar. By this time it was raining. Night,
too, fell rapidly, and the wind rose.
How long we were being jogged and tossed about
in those cross seas I do not know. Sleepy and sea
sick, I dozed and leaned over the gunnel by fits.
Once and again the clouds parted, and in the faint
light that illumined the darkness we were dimly con
scious of a flapping white sail, and of dark figures on
the look-out beside the mast. Will was holding the
tiller. " You seem to know your way about here in the
dark, Will." Just then a big sea struck the boat
and the spray washed over us ; a squall of wind and
rain was passing.
"Yes; we have been in here several times at night,
but we have to keep our eyes open."
" Have you ever been in a tight corner ? "
" Yes ; but I've never had such an experience as one
of our senior colleagues. One afternoon, with a full
boat, he was sailing along the windward side of his
island. Looking seaward, he saw a rapidly advancing
wall of water topped with foam. It was a tidal wave.
There was nowhere they could run for safety; nor
was there time. He struck sail — all but the jib — and
kept the boat half on to the sea. They had to leave
the rest to God.
"The wave struck the starboard bow, turned the
boat on her side, and poured down upon her. In fact,
the sea passed right over her without sinking her.
They were all drenched, and the boat was half filled.
But she rose like a bird, and kept on her course.
That surely was good seamanship !

Will at Work 77
" But the calmest men have nerves, and our friend,
cool though he always is, told me that he should
never forget the sensation he had of the boat sinking,
and still sinking, beneath his heel. Nightly, for weeks
afterwards, he had the same feeling in his dreams — of
the boat sinking from beneath him — and would wake
with a start, bathed in perspiration."
" There's the point ! " exclaimed one of the native
teachers, indicating a black object ahead to the right.
In the darkness we discerned the outline of a steep
bluff. " That's home," said Will.
A few minutes later we had rounded the head
land, and were pulling shorewards against a strong
current. On the left, great seas were crashing over the reef;
and those that missed the reef tossed our boat on
their crests, and then boomed against the cliff to our
right. Before us, protected by the reef, was a coral
beach; and from the windows of the mission-house,
some two hundred and fifty feet above, shone a steady
light. " Ha," said Will, " Madge is there ; and your own
girl is waiting beside her."
It took us the best part of an hour to reach them,
for the current was strong and the boat had to be
hauled up and housed, and the climb was a stiff one.
But then came our reward.
Next morning we were able to witness the ordinary
routine of a mission-station. At daybreak the school
drum was beaten by the native teachers, and the
scholars assembled, some of them coming long dis
tances. The classes ranged from the A B C scholars,
seated at the foot, or far end of the school, to those

78 On the Field
who, near the desk, stood and spelled aloud the big
words from the Gospel reading-books.
Each class was in charge of a senior scholar or
teacher, and Will passed from one to the other, taking
a turn at each.
The New Hebrides and sister Groups form a strange
chapter in the study of human history. Here life is
at its lowest ebb, and the people are as the washed-
up foam and debris at the margin of sand and wave.
This Group forms a line of demarcation between east
and west. Tribes have come from various directions,
— have fought for and obtained a footing. By tribes
we mean districts that speak the same tongue. Or
ganised tribes there are none. In origin children of
Ham, they came from Asia. Their footprints have
been traced through India and down the Malay
Peninsula to the Pacific. As the centuries passed,
they were driven eastward — as the Celts were to the
west — by stronger tribes and new invasions, onward
and forward, till, about seven hundred years ago, the
first canoes are believed to have reached these islands.
By contact and intermarriage on the way, and after
wards, the jet-black and the much-coveted nut-brown
complexion are now found in members of the same
small village. A single islet is the home of Malay
and Papuan. Thus, too, it has come to pass that in
the New Hebrides alone there are some thirty different
dialects or languages, — so different in structure and
form as to need almost as many versions of Scripture.
On this island there are three main dialects, and those
who speak the one are foreigners to the rest.
Every village, too, though comprising only five or
six huts, is an independent unit, and, according to its
size, is strong or weak, the friend or foe of its neigh-

Will at Work 79
bours, fearing and being feared. There is no such
thing as a natural death : if a man die, it must be due
to "poison" (a kind of witchcraft), and the suspect
is shot ; war and devastation follow. True, there are
many specimens of the noble savage ; but the people
generally are of a low type, and are falling a prey
to the violence of their own superstitions, and to dis
eases constitutional and parasitic.
After breakfast medical work began. Some of the
patients had been at school. Others had arrived later.
Besides the contagious and epidemic diseases intro
duced by whites, or brought back from the Colonies,
viz., "specific," tinea, scabies, whooping-cough, con
sumption, and measles, there are native elephantiasis,
yaws, bronchitis, pleurisy, dysentery, malaria, and a
form of struma almost universal, manifesting its nature
in offensive abscesses, glandular swellings, and ulcers
of skin and bone. And to this loathsome work, with
clean apron and basins of lotion and lint, Will, despite
the danger of contagion, now fearlessly buckled him
self. It occupied nearly the whole forenoon. There
after there were visits to be paid, translating to be
done, building to be attended to, and all the many-
sided duties of an island station.
Towards evening we took a walk along the beach
to visit a few huts and see some more of the sick.
At the entrance of three of these kennel-like abodes
(a thatch roof built over a hollow in the ground) we
stopped and called to the inmates — when, in each case,
there crawled forth an old man, black with dust and
soot, shrivelled, nude, and ashamed of his sores. The
oldest case was, perhaps, the most pitiable. From
head to foot he was suffering from a loathsome con
tagious skin disease, while from every toe pus was

80 On the Field
oozing. This hardly seemed the worst feature. He
lived within a stone's throw of the sea, and was yet
so foul that the grey hair seemed rooted in earth
rather than in a human scalp. Some one has coarsely
remarked that medical and surgical work among these
people is several degrees below that of a veterinary
surgeon ; but these savages are, after all, members
of the human family, though its waifs, and have
the same doubts and fears, sorrows and hopes, as
ourselves. Capital cases these for the medical missionary to
score by — that is, to exemplify to the native mind in
the most telling way the real nature of the Gospel of
Christ. Let no one infer that nothing as yet has been
done for them. The Presbyterian Church throughout
the world has sent into this field men and women who
for half a century have sorrowed and wept with the
heathen in their degradation, seeking to raise them
to better things, not without much success. Perhaps
the most striking, though silent, witness to this is
the fact that nearly every mission-station has its own
graveyard, and there are churches and congregations
here that put to shame many a colonial settlement.
Still, much remains to be done. Every missionary is
doing more or less medical work ; but as Christianity
has founded its free hospitals in every civilised com
munity, so the necessary complement of the Christian
teaching and help here being given was a similar
institution. On Sunday we had a service in the native-built
school-house about io a.m. There was a fairly large
audience, over eighty in all. It is not easy to speak
to natives ; you have to do it in concrete terms and
very figuratively, or you won't be understood. There

Will at Work 81
is scarcely an abstract term in their language. They
have little or no idea of what is meant by a " city,"
and none, perhaps, had ever seen a " lamb," both
of these words being in the text.
In the afternoon I accompanied Will to a village
at some distance along the shore. The ladies could
not go with us owing to the roughness of the path,
or no path, which crossed heaps of huge boulders,
tons in weight, brought down by the storms and
transient torrents from the cliffs overhead. These
walls of coral rock and earth, no matter how high,
no matter how steep, are green from base to crown,
the bare rock itself affording abundance of nourish
ment, even for large trees, which ultimately wedge
it into fragments. We reached the village, and held
service on a slope on one side of the irregular circle
in the centre of which stood the wooden drums and
symbols of heathenism. There were about fifty present.
The old chief sat at the feet of the missionary, and
his son, a handsome, strapping, intelligent young
fellow, recently returned from Queensland, sat on
the rock beside me and looked on my book.
The Gospel has had a powerful influence upon the
people, who are now beginning to understand the
missionary and look up to him as their friend. Peace
is established, and there is comparative safety in
travelling. The natives from the more distant villages
come to barter, and to buy medicine and books.
Several of these are asking for teachers, and, alas!
there are none to send. Although there were 180
such teachers already in the field,1 still the one great
need of the New Hebrides was and is— more native
teachers. Hence the demand for an institute in which
1 Now nearly 400.
F

82 On the Field
to develop and strengthen, for this service, the physi
cal, mental, and moral fibre of the most promising of
the native young men and women.
The reaping was not yet ; but it came later on.
As the Communion season approached, the people in
ones and twos sought the way of life. As many as
300, the bulk of them candidates, come to the week-
night meetings. All day long Will was busy in the
study or on the verandah teaching and directing them.
The question asked over and over again was that of
the Philippian jailer —
" What must we do to be saved ? "
" Nothing ! Jesus has done everything for you."
" Then have we nothing to do ? "
" No, nothing ! It's all done."
" Then we are saved ? "
" Yes ; out and out."
Needless to say it was the old story over again, yet
ever new. Hearts were melted, and souls entered
into joy.
"Now," said Will, "go home, and sit down and
consider what it cost Him to do this for you. Then
let all men see that you truly love Him by the fruit
you bear."
It was in the midst of this harvest that the summons
suddenly came, and Will, as the sequel relates, was
translated to a wider sphere.

83

CHAPTER VII.
The Drink Fiend.
" Will you come ? "
" Come where ? "
" Up the hills. The old chief, Batik, is sick, very,
they say ; and you may be able to help me."
In a few minutes I was ready to accompany him
on his morning walk to the distant village. We
climbed the high ground at the back of the station,
passing the church and schoolhouse, and the lime
houses of the mission servants; and thence over the
stile and through the fenced garden of the grim old
chief, Lintak, and by the scattered huts of his village.
Before us was a scene of great beauty. In every
direction, ridges, valleys, and mountain slopes were
covered with vegetation in all shades of colour, from
pale to dark green, and in endless variety of form.
But the one impression that fixed itself in the memory
was that of fertility, exuberance, prodigality of natural
growth, telling of wondrous richness of soul.
The islands are truly beautiful, but their beauty
has been just sufficiently overpraised to deprive one
of the delight of surprise. There is variety and con
trast — beaches black and white, flat islets and lofty
mountains, still lagoons and foaming creeks, reeking

84 On the Field
swamps and glowing rumbling craters. Nor is the
vegetation everywhere quite alike. Ambrym and Aoba
are vast gardens of the cocoa-palm ; Tongoa and Epi
are specially the home of wild creepers, which overtop
the tallest trees, and bury all except the towering palm
beneath the one green mantle. All the northern
islands are covered by dense tropical forest, in which
the banyan is king, while the shade is beautified by a
luxuriance of ferns and many-hued crotons. The soil
in the south is somewhat barren, and the land more
open. Towards the north, Nature is more bountiful,
and there is abundance of deep black mould.
Already a trade has sprung up in coffee of the finest
quality, in copra and maize. Cotton, tobacco, and
sugar-cane grow admirably. Bananas — some thirty
species — arrowroot, pineapples, oranges, lemons,
chillies, the custard -apple, sweet potatoes, and the
bread-fruit are among the staple products of the
native gardens. Some of our common vegetables and
grasses, when introduced, flourish well. Cattle, goats,
pigs, and possibly sheep, thrive, as do all our domestic
pets. Some kinds of b£che-de-mer abound, and there
are plenty of fish, though the natives are but poor
fishermen. Kauri, a hard wood like teak, and a light
durable wood that seems to resist the white ant, are
among the timbers. These islands are of great value,
destined to be a garden of tropical fruits and spices —
a gem among the possessions of Australasia — if the
Colonies be wise in time.
Truly the white men ¦ are taking possession of a fair
heritage. Are they giving the original owners, their
dark-skinned brethren, a just return?
" Come, now," said Will, " what are you thinking
about ? "

The Drink Fiend 85
"Who is Batik ? " I asked. " Have you seen much
of him?"
"He is a wiry little grey-headed fellow with a
Roman nose. He had heard so much about the
wonderful art of reading, and the strange book the
young people were learning, that one morning he
presented himself with the other scholars requesting
to be taught. Of course he was conducted to the
ABC class ; and humbly he sat down to one side,
listening to the children, and quietly repeating the
sounds. So intent was he, you would almost think
he could see through the board. After the lessons
were over the scholars dispersed, but Batik sat on.
He secured the teacher for himself, and began work in
earnest. All day long you could hear his voice shout
ing the letters, as if the better to make them stick.
Occasionally I went up to see how he was getting on.
He would then start afresh, and go steadily on till he
began to flounder. By sunset he could go correctly
through the board from A to Z. Then, tired, hungry, but
triumphant, he disappeared up the track towards home."
" How long did he keep up the pace ? "
" Not for long. There is no royal road to learning,
and the old man soon found that out. But he comes
to the services, prizes his book, and though occasion
ally you see him trying to read it upside-down, he
gets along. The most satisfactory thing about him
is, he carries away every word that is said, and drills
it into his people."
" Ho ! what does this mean ? "
A human thighbone was hanging by the neck in the
fork of a species of dracaena, a plant sacred to the
higher ranks of the chiefs.

86 On the Field
" Oh, that is the way the chiefs teach obedience. A
young fellow had returned from Queensland, and,
proud of his experience, crowed and took delight in
ridiculing the airs of his superiors. One day Batik's
predecessor was passing along the track just here, and
met him. The young fellow sniggered. Instantly
the old chief swung round and tapped him on the
skull with his club. Then roasted him and picked
his bones. That bone is meant for a warning and a
memorial." We found the village high up on the east side of
one of the slopes. The dogs barked as we approached,
and some boys ran to us and conducted us to the
chief. He was seated on the ground, leaning back
against the roof of his hut.
The old fellow looked up at Will piteously, and
wept. " Oh, save my people, save my people ! " he cried.
We could see that he was very ill — in fact, almost
at the last gasp. But he seemed to be in greater
mental distress.
" What is the matter, Batik ? "
The chief pointed to two black grog -bottles that
were lying empty beside him.
" They are paying the boys with that, and ruining
them. It has killed me."
Then we learned that the French traders were buy
ing the cocoanuts and paying the wages with drink.
There is no duty ; the liquor is cheap ; and the profits
are therefore great. They say that some of the
English are doing the same. If so, it is in a small
way, and under cover; for with them the law is
stringent. The chief had been induced to try a

The Drink Fiend 87
draught of the liquor, and a drinking-bout had followed.
Owing to exposure in the drunken state, a chill was
caught, and ledfbn to pneumonia.
As Will was examining him, a young chief staggered
up to us holding up a bottle two-thirds full. It was
part of a whole case he had procured from the
white men. Will remonstrated with him, calling it
poison. " Poison ? Missionary ! " he hiccoughed with a laugh.
" Ha, ha ! no good you speak all same. Drink, he
finish along Noumea ? Eh ? White man, he finish
drink a long time [cease to drink it]? Eh? Grog,
he finish along man-o'-war ? Eh ? Me savey ; suppose
grog he good along white man, he good along black
fellow. Me no make him; what name [wherefore]
white man he make him ? Poison ? No fear ! Me
fellow no fool ! "
And, satisfied with his own argument, he raised the
bottle to his lips and reeled off to his hut.
Seeing the serious condition of the chief, Will ad
vised some of the men to make a stretcher and bring
him down to the station for treatment.
" No, no," said the old chief; " I am not worthy ;
bury me outside the fence. And — save my people."
These were his last words : he became comatose,
and died in the afternoon.
As I followed Will down the hillside I heard him
muttering some strange words very bitterly. In answer
to my question, he exclaimed —
" The mean blood-suckers ! I was quoting in regard
to them the cry of Plutus in Hell."
It was the untranslatable cry of the Money-god —
"Pape Satan, Pape Satan, Aleppe" — which greeted
the ears of Dante and his ghostly guide as they left

88 On the Field
the circle of Drink and Gluttony, and reached, farther
down, that of Avarice and its devotees.
" What meaning do you take out of it ? "
"Well, the meaning that suits the present occasion
is, that it is a welcome to fresh guests and a cry to
Satan to stir the flames anew."1
No language is too lurid to describe the baseness
and greed which can wrest from these weak children
of Nature their labour and their lands, and which, in
haste to fill miserable, moth-eaten money-bags, can
give them in return that which spells quick damnation
of body and soul. And I said so.
" Don't be too hasty," said Will, who had himself
begun to cool. "We must not forget that men say
the cry of Plutus is ' more like their own tongue to
the English than it is to any other nation.' That
should humble us. Moreover, I have seen down here
as yet no money-bags for the moths to eat. These
men, as a rule, spend their money before they make
it. They are less kind to themselves than they are
to the natives, and destroy themselves in the act of
ruining others. I sometimes wonder what there is
in the life to keep them here."
" Do they own to giving the natives grog ? "
" They make no secret of it. ' Hell-fire Bill ' tells
me they entice the boys to their shanties and nourish
a taste in them for the stuff. Then they give it them
as pay; and finally the boys refuse to work unless
they can get it."
" But is it not a risky experiment to make their
labour drunk ? "
" Rather. But they are careful not to give it to
1 See Plumptre's translation, footnotes.

The Drink Fiend 89
their imported labour, unless in moderate quantities.
They are cautious enough to see that the imported
men don't absorb more than their pay, and that they
don't become incapable. As for the local boys, they
may drink as much as they like, provided they take
it home." " Do you use any alcohol in your practice down
here ? "
"I do — as a drug; and it is one of the best drugs
we possess. When you get a man dying of dysentery,
or of continued fever, with a failing heart, you must
give sufficient to keep his heart going — of course, in
a disguised form and only in conjunction with easily
absorbed liquid nourishment. Otherwise, you must
be prepared to see your patient collapse before your
eyes." " The traders excuse themselves by saying that it
staves off the fever."
" The fools ! to take it unnecessarily, and as a
beverage, especially the abominable stuff they get
down here, only weakens the system, and in time
makes them certain victims. Did you hear about
young Hills?"
" The carpenter, you mean ? "
" No ; not him. Another young fellow who came
down here with great hopes and some promise. He
came down to plant coffee and build a station, and
was getting along fairly well too ; but one day, when
pulling down a house to shift it, he got a touch of the
sun. As usual, fever followed ; and his only nurse
was poor old Bill. At last he got so bad that Bill
sent for me. Poor fellow ! you know how difficult it
is to treat in that condition. He would only take

90 On the Field
stimulant, and it made the delirium worse. To at
tempt to put out fire, inside or out, by pouring on
alcohol, is a fatuous move. When I got there, he was
raving. I found him in his bedroom, trying to dress
himself. And really one could hardly help laughing.
He was trying to get a pair of trousers on the wrong
end of him. Thought they were his waistcoat, and
that his arms had shrivelled, because they weren't long
enough to go through the legs. We got him into bed,
and then he imagined he was getting chloroform, and
fought, and spat in all directions. It was not neces
sarily the drink he had taken ; the fever was at his
brain. At length we got him quietened, and left him
apparently sleeping.
" I was lying down under a tree, trying to read. It
was very hot, not a breath of wind, and the sea shone
like a mirror.
"All at once there was a loud shout, a shriek from
the house girls, and a chorus of voices. There was
Hills flying along in slippers towards the sea, followed
by Bill and some of the boys. I joined in the chase.
As he neared the stile above the beach his slippers
flew high behind him ; with naked feet he leapt over
the obstruction, and rushed down the bank towards
the sea. He outdistanced us all.
" The boat was lying in deep water a few yards from
the shore, tethered by the stern to the bank with a
stout rope. Hauling her in, he jumped aboard, and
pushed off again. Stepping rapidly from thwart to
thwart, he gained the bow and picked up the anchor.
We reached the top of the bank in time to see him
holding it aloft in his right hand. With his left he
was twirling the chain round his neck. Three times
he did this, and then — plunged.

The Drink Fiend 91
" It was all done in a twinkle. There was a great
splash. The chain rattled over the gunnel ; and all
was still. A few bubbles rose and burst; and the
surface of the water shimmered on, as before, like oil
in the blazing sun."

92

CHAPTER VIII.
The Joy of Living.
" All one's life is a music, if one touches the notes rightly and in time,
But there must be no hurry." — Ruskin.
It was the heart of the cool season, the thermometer
registered 75° in the shade, and we all felt as brisk
as it was possible to be in such a climate.
We had been through the Group almost twice,
and had made the acquaintance of nearly every white
person, settler or missionary. Our first impressions
were not wholly favourable. A warm welcome met
us at every door of house or hut, but most of the
white faces that greeted us seemed those of men and
women who had just returned from the grave — so
white and emaciated were they. It was the end of
the hot season, an unusually hot one, and " influenza "
along with malarial fever had been prevalent. Still,
there were a few who were looking well, and some
who had not known as yet what fever means. These
were the exceptions. The universal experience so far
has been that the roses of health which bloom in other
lands are doomed to wither in these islands. The
deep black soil with rank vegetation forms a steaming
hot-bed of " fever and ague." But the fever is mild,
seldom causing more than weakness and emaciation,

The Joy of Living 93
from which, with the proper remedies, recovery is
rapid. Settlement and cultivation, letting in the air
and sunshine, may ultimately dispel the miasma, but
much muscle must waste, and the bones of many
whiten in the soil before that condition will be attained.
But these thoughts belong not to the morning of
life. Happily our experiences were yet in the distance ;
and in the plan of the universe there are everywhere
compensations. We were fresh from civilisation, with
young blood coursing evenly through our veins; and,
while resting and planning for the next step in ad
vance, gave ourselves up to quiet enjoyment and to
communion with nature.
Will's mission -station is built on a spur, which,
beyond the reed enclosure and a cluster of palms,
drops perpendicularly to the beach. A zigzag path
leads up the face of the steep ; but once up you are
fully rewarded. A fresh breeze, of absolute purity,
is always blowing off the sea — the south-east trade-
wind — and the air is deliriously cool.
The scenery, too, is equal to any in the Pacific.
Right at our feet is an immense fringing reef, on which
the billows unceasingly break in milk-white floods,
filling the bay with what seemed to be tossing snow,
beneath the moon.
The deafening roar re-echoed from the mountain
slopes, and, blending with the rustle of the palms,
suggests, on a pitchy night, the presence of Alpine
heights and rushing torrents. To the right and left are
wooded bays and headlands, also fringed with reefs ;
and right in front stands Lopevi, an almost perfect
cone, 5000 feet high, down whose slope the black
lava — sometimes a fiery red — pours sheer into the
ocean. From the centre of the crater a thin column

94 On the Field
of smoke or steam curls upwards, warning the few
inhabitants of slumber that may any day give place
to activity, as happened ten years ago, when the
refugees on this very shore were clubbed and eaten
by their professing friends.
To the right of Lopevi is the open sea, and to its
left is Paama, with Ambrym in the distance. The face
of nature changes with every passing hour. The
colours of the sea, the gorgeous cloud-scenery at sun
rise and sunset, the weird effect of black shadow and
silver glow chasing each other over the surface of the
deep on a cloudy moonlight night — all were ours just
then. We were dwelling amid scenes that dwarf the
works of the greatest masters, surpassing them in
extent and magnificence as nature can surpass art.
Yet in communing with nature grandeur is not an
essential. Health there must be, and inward peace,
or love — for all things small and great. A full-toned
laugh — the efflorescence of health — must be as grateful
to the Divine ear as a crimson rose to the Divine eye.
The most exquisite enjoyment I have known was a
half-hour spent in one of the gardens of our island
colony. It was a morning in early summer. Leaning
over the bridge, I watched the salmon basking in the
sun and feeding among the green reeds at the bottom
of the clear-flowing stream. The wattles were in
bloom, a blaze of glory. The shadows beneath the
weeping willows played hide-and-seek among the
gnarled and knotted roots ; the bees hummed lazily
among the opening flowers ; and the air was filled
with perfume and with the twitter of birds on the
wing. To breathe such air seemed like feasting on the
ambrosia of the gods. It was such a draught of the

The Joy of Living 95
elixir of life as sends one on with winged feet to fulfil
the behests of duty. " The lark's on the wing,
The snail's on the thorn ;
God's in His heaven —
All's right with the world ! "—
or nearly so — except that a necessary something is left
for man to do and bear.
Saturday morning came, and we were all at break
fast, enjoying our porridge and island coffee, with
plenty of goat's milk. The butter was white, being
made from the latter. It was churned in a bottle by
a little fellow who came every day to shake it for some
thirty minutes, and thereby earn a biscuit. The scones
were Madge's own baking.
" Now," said Will, " the tide is to be very low this
morning, and as it is an off day, we are going to take
you out on the reef to see its treasures."
" Any special precautions needed ? "
" Yes ; protect your feet with a pair of old boots, on
account of the sharp coral and the sea-urchins. Even
the natives have to do that, and make sandals out of
the cocoanut husks."
So, as a party, we went down to the shore to picnic
and explore. The tide was low, and we could go a
long way out. We found sea-urchins in plenty, of all
sizes, the largest as big as a fair-sized orange. The
little black rascals had dug for themselves cup-shaped
hollows in the reef, into which they just fitted. In
these they hid, and kept their uppermost spines ready
for all assailants.
Armed with a hammer and steel chisel, we waded
about, peeping into the pools and knocking off choice

96 On the Field
lumps of coral. The fish in the pools were small, but
exquisitely beautiful — green and gold, peacock-blue,
pink and white, silver and black, red and green — all
colours in almost endless diversity.
"Hist! Will, what is this ? "
Will came to look. It was an octopus, less than a
yard in diameter. He was brown above, blue and
white beneath, and, spread out in the water, resembled
a giant passion-flower. Gliding stealthily along the
edge of the reef, just below the surface, he slowly
projected forward a long arm, and suddenly dived it
into the next hole, frightening the little fish and
grasping the prey. Arm followed arm, much after the
fashion of a swimmer, each, in like manner, making
its sudden plunge and securing some spoil.
As for the coral, it is a very different thing from
what one sees under glass cases. Our attention was
first caught by what looked like a rhododendron
blossoming in a shallow pool — it was a lovely growth
of coral, a pale pink or purple. And then we began to
find almost as many colours of coral as of fish — cream-
white, emerald, lilac or lavender, dark browns and
purples, pale yellows and sky blues. Within a small
area we collected eighteen different varieties, classify
ing them according to form. After gathering till we
were about tired, we had a delightful time on the
beach. The native servants and those attached to
the mission had come down to the reef for a holiday
too, and had gathered several small baskets of shell
fish. The "billy" was on the boil, and soon we were
enjoying a substantial lunch.
" What have you got for dessert, Madge ? "
" Mangoes and granadillos. Will they do ? "
" Rather."

The Joy of Living 97
The granadillo is an oblong fruit about the size of
a small rock-melon, which it somewhat resembles on
being laid open. There is this difference : the central
juicy interior rivals the most delicious passion-fruit,
and is the part to be eaten. The thick melon-like rind,
as Madge explained, is, when peeled and cooked, quite
equal to the best pastry apples, and supplies their place
on the table.
"Well," said Will, "I have been in all the
Australian colonies, and my eyes have glistened
and teeth watered at the sight of their oranges,
grapes, and pine-apples. But while citrus fruits may
be the best for the Cornstalk race, for downright
wholesome, savoury food, for red beef and still redder
tomatoes, for brainy men and rosy-cheeked women,
give me New Zealand."
A clapping of hands, and rattling of spoons and
dishes, greeted this little speech.
"Perhaps you are right," said a voice; "but the
statement would come better from an outsider. More
over, you have forgotten one fruit that grows superbly
there." " What is that ? "
" A guid conceit o' oursel's ! "
"Ah, well," said Will, when the laughter had sub
sided, "the Cornstalks will forgive me, for they are
patriots too."
After some fun in pelting one another with the green
berries which autumn was showering down on our
heads, we explored along the shore. A successful
hunt after crabs and shells added zest to the walk.
Resting on the clean sand and white coral washed up
by the hurricane tides, one felt that after all there were
pleasures to compensate for living on a cannibal island.
G

98 On the Field
It took me a day and a half, while waiting for the
steamer, to boil and cleanse the coral, tubful after
tubful being put on the fire. The colours fade rapidly
once the polyps are out of the water, and the smell as
they die is repulsive. So, to whiten our specimens, we
boil them for a few hours in a solution of washing
soda, then pour clean water on them from a height,
and lastly expose them to the sun and rain. In this
way we secured several trophies, intending to send
them back to the many friends whose hearts were
following us from afar.
In the evening Will asked me to give him a hand
with a big chest which had got a wetting on the shore
in being landed. It was a black chest bound with
iron clasps and lined with zinc.
" What have you here, Madge ? "
"Napery, I think."
So it proved to be, with bed-linen, towelling, and
suchlike articles. Alas ! they were already stained
through and through with greenish-grey mould. Will
grew sympathetic, but Madge only smiled. Biting her
lips, she said —
" Salts of sorrel and sunshine will soon remedy that."
" Ah ! what have we here ? "
It was something black, but when taken out and
turned over it assumed all the colours of the rainbow.
For a minute we gazed at it in silence.
" O Will, I'm so sorry ! It's your hood."
So it was. And it had a story all to itself. The
silks and white fur were of the best, gathered by a
mother's love. It had done duty at more than one
graduation, different colours being required ; and in
itself was a record of his academic triumphs. Under
a brave show it had covered a palpitating heart. And

The Joy of Living 99
at the last event Love's fingers had sewed the purple
over the pink. It was now a drabbled and salt-stained
rag ; being at the bottom, it had fared the worst.
" I am so sorry, Will ! "
It was now Will's turn to smile.
" Dinna mind it, lass ! " he said, breaking into
Scots, as he often did when in merry mood. " It's
no' millinery, but the man, that tells down here, —
' The rank is but the guinea stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that.'
It must be God's will it should be destroyed; so
here it goes, up the lum." And to put an end to all
regrets quickly and to destroy the memory, he danced
across the floor towards the kitchen-stove, hiding his
loss under an appearance of gaiety.
"Wait a minute, Will," and she ran after him.
"That fur will trim a coat for little Douglas."
For the next quarter of an hour I heard him at the
stove, poker in hand —
" For a' that and a' that,
Their tinsel show, and a' that ; "
accompanying every "a' that" with a vigorous thrust
into the grate — " For a' that and a' that,
His ribbon, star, and a' that ;
The man of independent mind
He looks and laughs at a' that."
I was busied helping Madge to sort the linen. She
had all the pride of a Scottish lass in the contents
of the chest — the quality and snowy whiteness of her

ioo On the Field
damask treasures. Still he could be heard thrusting
away —
" For a' that and a' that,
Their dignities and a' that ;
The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth,
Are higher rank than a' that."
Then as the last of the colours disappeared in smoke
up the stove-pipe he broke into full song —
" Then let us pray that come it may —
As come it will for a' that —
That sense and worth, o'er all the earth,
May bear the gree, and a' that.
For a' that and a' that,
It's coming yet, for a' that,
That man to man, the world o'er,
Shall brothers be for a' that ! "
So in these islands we began to learn the lesson that
everything beautiful in this world is made only to be
cruelly broken up and destroyed. Every form of
beauty is but a passing show. Life itself seems but a
bundle of sensations. And as for its transient joys,
to quote the worn lines —
" Pleasures are like poppies spread,
You seize the flower, its bloom is shed."
Nevertheless for long their memories linger with us —
bright spots by the roadside of life, to which the
thoughts fondly return, and return again.
A similar fate was in store for my specimens of
coral. When the steamer reappeared outside the reef,
the captain, surly son of Neptune, because, forsooth,
his beard had once been singed here, refused to send
in more than one boat. What with bedding, baggage,
goats, natives, and ourselves — for Will, his wife, and

The Joy of Living 101
four of his teachers came to help — we were all but
swamped. To make matters worse, the captain
steamed out into the swell, and we had to follow him.
There we were in imminent danger, and the steamer
herself rolled so hard that we stepped off the thwarts
on to her deck. For which our skipper had another
bad half-hour, this time from the ladies. He took it
very humbly, his best defence.
The last I saw of my trays, they were lying at the
water's edge waiting for the rising tide.
However, there are things that cannot be destroyed,
the gold-dust of life — character and work. And the
latter was at last coming into view.

BOOK III.
THE CONFLICT

CHAPTER I.
Skirmishing.
" We, the undersigned, do hereby grant, bargain,
sell, and convey the said land, together with all the
fruit-trees and other trees thereon, also all the stone
and other things thereon  "
The speaker paused and looked around. The scene
was weird. All that afternoon we had been surveying,
with the aid of a compass and our own legs, the piece
of land Mai was willing to sell. Night fell before the
work was done, and now on the steamer's deck the
transaction was being completed. A yellow flare lit
up the deck and showed a circle of silent spectators,
sailors, traders, and missionaries. Along the rail the
chiefs had perched themselves, like big crows in the
darkness. The solicitor, for such he was, had written
the deed on the hatch for a table, while his friend, an
LL.D. from Sydney, held the lantern. They were
delegates to the Synod that year, and we were happy
in having their help.
As soon as David had explained the terms of the
deed in Malekulan, which the chiefs understood, they,
one by one, stepped down and took the pen. Their
hands being guided to the right place on the paper,
each made a cross opposite his own name. Then

io6 The Conflict
five shining sovereigns were dropped one at a time
into Mai's palm. True, Mai objected to the gold,
but he wanted the missionary. Pigs were the coin
of his little kingdom — in fact, the only large coin he
knew; but the missionaries objected on principle,
for pigs happened to be at the root of the heathenism
and idolatry of these islanders. And, for the present,
I was guided by my colleagues. The transaction
finished, the natives disappeared over the side into
the darkness ; and, a few minutes later, we were
satisfying our eager appetites at the dinner-table, and
blithely discussing the events of the day.
A month passed, and again the steamer's whistle
woke up the echoes from valley and hillside. In
response, a crowd assembled on the beach, naked,
but cheerful and ready to help. With many shoutings
they carried or rolled the boxes and barrels, iron,
timber, and tanks, over the shingle and sand. By
two o'clock the boats had landed their last load, and
the smart - looking craft, flying both mission and
mercantile flags, the cross and the thistle, steamed
away, allowing us to concentrate all our attention on
the work before us. Of afternoon visitors we had
not a few. By sunset the laughter and shouting had
ceased ; the natives, one by one, had delivered up the
armlet of pink twine — the badge of service for the
day — and, having received their pay in tobacco twist,
returned to their villages, near and distant. Will
and his teachers had been very active, and had cleared
a space just within the edge of the scrub, which came
right down to the shore. The tents were pitched,
an iron shelter hastily erected, goods unpacked, and
the stove set up. After a hearty supper, we wor
shipped by lamplight on the heap of straw. When

Skirmishing 107
the stars came out, the camp was snug, and the first
day's work at an end.
The moisture thrown out at night by our leafy
bower was excessive, soaking even the bedding. So
we shifted our tent again, and pitched it on top of
some planks, just above high-water mark. Here we
found companions, some large, juicy, amber-coloured
ants, that had never seen a portmanteau before, and
thought ours a capital place to colonise in. This
was but one of the trifling incidents of the daily life.
Our relations with Mai and his people were a more
serious matter. As we objected to the presence of
the ants, so now did he to us. We shook the ants
out smartly. Mai apparently would have done the
same with us, but the task was more difficult.
He did his best. The fact was, he had failed as
a diplomatist, and had brought a hornet's nest about
his ears. The people were not satisfied. The land
and the trees were theirs, and they were getting
nothing. Mai had " pocketed " four of the coins and
had given the remaining one to his brother, Melun-
Netum, an ugly, little, diabolical old fellow whom he
found a willing tool. Though here also the rule is
"once a chief, always a chief," the people are
democratic in spirit, and a chief cannot afford to be
unpopular. Possibly he expected to squeeze us for a second
payment; and the process soon began.
The land they had sold us was shaped like a
wedge, its base being on the sea and its edge termin
ating in the bush, against a big rock called "The
Devil's Stone." This rock was the termination of a
spur or ridge which came down from the central

108 The Conflict
dominating mountain at that end of the island,
" Minne Peak." The ridge formed a wall between
the villages up the valley and those along the shore
to the right. In fact, Mai and his people in Fanting,
as their village was named, wished to continue the
wall of protection down to the sea, and had sold
us this land to make us the stop-gap. Our ground,
indeed, was the original site of the village ; but so
many of their people had been shot there, owing to
the position being exposed to enemies in the bush,
that they had moved farther along. The rock, too,
was probably so called from an enemy being seen
above it in some weird dress, or painted in black and
white. The people had learned from Queensland that
there is a devil, and believed that he was sometimes
seen. The site contained about four and a half acres.
Half of it was sand and shingle just above water
level, densely covered with scrub of the bastard
cotton - tree. Back of this the bank of black soil,
volcanic ash, rose some 20 feet, and was crowned
with stone circles, altars, bread-fruit trees, and cocoa-
palms. A skull and some bleached bones, which had
come to the surface on what was once the site of
a hut, was at first our best landmark, so dense was
the bush. The bread-fruit trees were laden with a
rich store of fruit, and we viewed the crops with satis
faction. But other eyes were also viewing both it
and us with gleams of anger.
" Tell your boys not to pick the bread-fruit."
" Very well, Mai," we said ; " but remember that
the trees are ours. As the fruit is not yet ripe, I am
quite agreeable ; but you must tell your people to
sell us food, or we shall have to pick it straightway."

Skirmishing 109
He told the people, and we were well supplied.
Cocoanuts and bread-fruit were bought at the rate
of ten for a stick of tobacco. Bananas cost from one
to three sticks per bunch, according to size. A
number of the men, and a few women, had been to
Queensland, and could speak broken English, so we
had no difficulty in understanding one another.
It was necessary from the outset for them to learn
that agreements are made to be kept. If we began
to back down, they would soon have us backed into
the sea.
Mai's next request was more in the form of a com
mand. He went among the teachers and forbade
them to cut the scrub. They came to me and laid
down their axes and long knives.
"What's the matter?"
" Mai's cross ; he says no good we cut down the
trees." " Oh, go along ; Mai's not master here now. You
do as we tell you. He won't harm you."
This happened more than once. True, the scrub
formed a slight break - wind to the trees ; but we
wanted fresh air and a site to build on.
Our second Saturday afternoon had come. A crowd
of natives with their chiefs began to assemble. Will
and I were cutting out rafters. At length Mai arrived,
followed by his dogs. One reason for keeping them
was to give the alarm at night. Werwer-Melun,
the chief of Melbongan, up the valley, had once
walked into Fanting, killed his man, and walked out
again. " What does this mean, Will ? "
" Wait a bit, and we'll see."
We went on sawing, but kept an eye on them. Mai

no The Conflict
laid his five sovereigns down on the timber. The
other chiefs did likewise with the presents they had
received — hatchets, calico, tobacco, everything except
a few sticks that had been smoked. Not a word
was spoken. A few drops of heavy rain began to
fall. We took refuge in the iron shelter and called
them in. We sat down ; they all sat down. There
was absolute silence. We watched them over the top
of a newspaper ; they watched us over the top of
their neighbours' heads. The rain stopped. We
rose ; they rose. Still not a word was said. We
went outside ; they came outside. Surely no deputa
tion was ever more impressive. Then, apparently
satisfied, they went off in a body up the track.
What did it mean ? We followed after, determined
to find out.
Near "The Devil's Stone" they began to disperse.
Then we called to " Skinny Charlie," so named
because his epidermis hung in scales — a tropical kind
of ringworm.
" Look you here, Charlie ; you tell Mai that if he
wants us to go away, he will have to pay the steamer
to take us — that's all."
" He no want you to go away, master. He says,
no good you cut down the trees ; and very good you
pay him along [with] pigs; money no good belong
[to] him."
" Mai must keep his bargain, Charlie. He knows
we can't give him pigs, and we must have a place
to build on. Tell him to sell us some more ground
for the house, then ; and we won't need to cut down
the fruit-trees."
This was done. They sold us a piece of ground
to the left of the track. We wanted the sea frontage.

Skirmishing 1 1 1
No; that had been sold a long time ago to some old
white man. They did not even know who he was.
Again and again we found them honest in this respect,
here and at other villages on the coast.
But they declined to take back the money and
gifts. And still Mai was dissatisfied. We were not
sure that mischief was not brewing.
One sunny morning I was on the way from the
camp up to the house, whistling a tune, with an
armful of tools. There was no one about, and, owing
to the density of the bush, both camp and builders
were out of sight. As I passed between the stone
circles, something whizzed past my shoulder and fell
on the ground. With a start I looked up. There
was Mai overhead, smiling, and plucking bread-fruit.
It may have been a pure accident. I took it as a
warning. A green bread-fruit is hard enough, but
a cocoanut would be worse, and a second aim perhaps
surer. It would be well to get the fence up and the
bush cleared away at once. To do it in peace we
must catch our weasel asleep, and no time like the
early morning.
So one morning at daybreak we were all at work.
We had cleared the boundary, got the holes dug, and
many of the posts in, when out came Mai. He was too
late. He talked loud, but we held the winning card ;
and a man cannot continue angry long in the presence
of good-humour. As a rule, too, we were very court
eous to each other. So, to mollify him, we agreed to
leave a stile just where he was standing, across the
"burangs," or ceremonial stones.
That same day the steamer returned (a month had
sped swiftly), and Will and his party left us. But our
own staff was growing ; we had the Chinese carpenter,

ii2 The Conflict
also four or five lads, and the teacher, Kalasong, from
Ranon. And now a fresh request was made. Mai wanted the
use of the boat. Gladly would we have lent it to him,
but dare not. Boat accidents with natives are not rare,
and boats are easily damaged. If anything happened
to them, they would almost certainly blame us as
having purposely bewitched the craft. And to warn
them beforehand would only confirm them in that
opinion. On the other hand, Mai wanted the boat to
collect pigs, pose as an important person and attend
feasts ; and for the boat's safety, my own lads would
have to go with him, and possibly myself. But we
had no mind to become a part of Mai's retinue and
follow him in procession about the island, to the toot,
toot, of his conch -shells, which were blown before
him to proclaim the approach of a great chief. We
had, perforce, to refuse. He " cut up rough " over
it, and pursued a policy of obstruction.
In the meantime we were getting on well with the
people. He was but one chief, and his but one village.
The others came and received back again their presents
and their pay. We wanted thatch for the big native
house, a building near "The Devil's Stone." Mai op
posed, but the other villages plaited, and brought it to
us by water. When he saw them getting the spoil —
calico and knives and tobacco — cupidity triumphed,
and Fanting joined in. Competition was healthy.
Thereafter we had no trouble in getting thatch and
labour. As he had failed to coerce us by fear, he would try a
new move — the " boycott " — and thereby starve us into
submission. In some way he had discovered that our
supply of stores was limited, possibly through a spy.

Skirmishing 113
One such we discovered in the camp. An innocent-
looking man, black as a pot, whose bald pate and oily
face was in a continuous shine or smile. He went
about playing a set of Pan's pipes, the only set I saw
in the islands. The most common musical instrument
on Ambrym was a miniature bow, about eight inches
long, which was played like a Jew's harp, one end
being placed in the mouth. Kop-kop, for that was his
name, was for ever sitting near the stove, and must
have heard many a remark, till one day we heard him
explain something in English. He found a seat at a
distance thereafter. We got to like him later on, and
still think kindly of him. Sorrow brought us together.
He was proud of his two children. His son, a spirited
youth, died in Queensland; his daughter, wife to a
chief, was taken in adultery. His grief was too much
for him. The trouble broke his heart ; but he died re
peating the Lord's Prayer, and we drew to him yet
more. You see I was his missionary.
To return to Mai. His boycott, though well organ
ised, failed, as did all his other evil schemes. Our last
yam disappeared, and we sent the boys out to forage.
No one came near us ; not a cocoanut nor a bread
fruit could we get. Then the biscuit-barrel, the flour-
bin, the last rice-bag became empty in turn, and finally
we had used up the last handful of barley. Mai must
have been feeling very happy that day. Just then the
steamer's whistle was heard ; and when nearly half a
ton of sweet yams were stacked on the beach, not to
speak of biscuits, rice, and flour, his face grew a trifle
longer. He and his followers sat down at a distance
and watched proceedings. We required little imagina
tion to guess the subject of their talk.
H

114 The Conflict
By this time we had got our land completely fenced
in. The women came in a body from different villages
and worked for a day at a time, cleaning the ground.
Our yam-tops had been saved. These were planted,
and soon, on the bank above the sea, we had a series
of extended bowers, formed by the springing vines.
The successive lines looked very pretty. But they
were viewed with jealous eyes. On a Saturday after
noon — Saturdays were eventful days with us some
how — Mai, with his favourite young wife, Botingi,
walked past the bowers down the path to the sea. It
was an unusual and a pleasant thing to see the chief
and his wife walking proudly side by side. They
seemed in confidential mood. She was a handsome
girl, full of spirit, and her frizzly curls were crisp and
black. To-day she was dressed in style, with armlets
and anklets of pandanus, dyed in yellow, and tags of
the same in thick short fringe, worn low round the
hips, which served for skirt. Some feast or ceremony
had been going forward, and all unconsciously I took
note of the dress.
That night, as usual, we had retired early. The lights
were not long out when the dog, a black retriever,
suddenly growled and barked. In a moment I was at
the window, watching from behind the blind. A pig
squealed. I saw a fire-stick waving. (These were
used by the natives as lanterns.) Then a figure
stooped and lifted back into place the big native
drum, a fallen one which helped to close the gate.
The moonlight shone for an instant on a woman's
dress. It was Botingi's. She had put her pig in to
destroy our yams.
I went across to the men's house and found them
speechifying by lamplight. There had been some new

Skirmishing 115
arrivals, and they were being duly welcomed. We
organised a hunt with torches, and quickly bailed up
the miserable creature in a corner. He was nearly
half snout, and flat as a board, as if starved for the
occasion. His snout served him in good stead, for he
charged with it so vigorously at a hole in the fence
that he shot clean through.
Next morning, at six o'clock, we walked into the
village and beat the biggest drum. The men hopped
out of their huts in amazement.
" Where's Mai ? "
The bird had flown. He had found an excuse to
visit another village that early.
"Tell him we shall be back in the afternoon, and
have something to say to him."
There was a third offence, besides the boycott and
the attempt on the yams. A man in Fanting had,
under cover of night, carried off a chest from the
beach. It had been left in care of Kalasong by the
absentee owner, and we were responsible. This man
claimed to be the owner's companion. We insisted on
the chest being returned. But, so far, in vain.
If we allowed Mai to pile up offences this way, he
must necessarily develop into an enemy, and a rupture,
with more or less serious consequences, would follow.
We had to master them, and yet keep their goodwill.
Remember, we were among cannibals, and absolutely
without arms. People were being eaten on the op
posite coast.
At the afternoon service in the village we hit out
from the shoulder. Mai was there, but kept moving
to and fro at a distance, with a scowl on his face as
black as thunder. At the close we spoke so that he
should hear it —

116 The Conflict
"Yesterday," pointing to the sea, "you saw a man-
o'-war go by. Let me tell you, that ship is your
friend. If we do you wrong, you go to the captain
and he will punish or take us away. If you do wrong,
the captain when he comes here will ask us, ' Are
these people good to you ? ' We cannot tell him a
lie; and he will be angry with you. So let us do
what is right, and be friends."
For, under the present system of Dual Control in
the New Hebrides, it is customary every cool season
for one or more warships, English and French, to
visit the Group, and, incidentally, all the mission and
trading stations, — in the interests of the respective
flags, to prevent abuses, and to see that all goes
well. As we left the village the rain fell heavily, and with
Kalasong we sat under a pig shelter. Kalasong was
agitated. " Doctor, no good for a missionary to speak that
way. The chief is very angry, and he is a big fight
ing man."
Next morning, at breakfast-time, we saw Mai coming
jauntily across the ground swinging a bill-hook. I
went out and met him, and drew him to the gate,
where we sat down on the old drum. I was deter
mined he should get the sermon, and, without preach
ing, gave him the gist of it. We parted pleasantly
enough. That night the box came back on the offender's
shoulder ; and next morning Mai himself appeared
with a smile on his face, an unspoken apology, and
a present under his arm — a pig, and round its neck
a wreath of the tabu-palm.

MAL AT HOME.

ii7

CHAPTER II.
The Polity of the Heathen.
The frond of the tabu-palm (cycas) was one of the
insignia of Mal-ship. It never occurs to us to apply
the terms government, democracy, law, to savages.
We imagine them as little better than a low grade
of unthinking humans, living an animal life, spend
ing their time in feasting, fighting, and idleness;
whose food grows without tillage, and drops, when
ripe, into their mouths, supplying all their wants.
It is we who, in this matter, are the unthinking,
ignorant ones. For every village has its constitution,
— of course, unwritten, — and its institutions, Every
tree and every nut an owner. Every man a policy —
either to advance and take up the burden of life,
or to stagnate and thereby keep humble, and avoid
the perils. In short, every village on Ambrym is a
democracy, and that of a peculiar type.
I have already referred to the large stone circles,
or " war-wars," on the bank above the camp. These
are about fifteen feet in diameter. The wall, or dyke,
is about four, sometimes five, feet high, and is built of
loose pieces of coral. Inside, there is room for a hut
of the ordinary size. Only the Mais, the chiefs of
highest rank, are allowed to have these walls built

118 The Conflict
round their huts. During their lifetime the circle
is not complete ; the ends of the dyke overlap, so as
to allow of an entrance and yet secure privacy. Inside
the wall the chief has his flower-garden, if it can be
so called, of brightly coloured and strong - smelling
crotons, or the still more brilliant coleus and amar-
anthus, a blaze of crimson, green, and gold.
At death the body of the chief, after the wailing
is over, is placed on a frame inside the hut, and a
slow fire kindled beneath. The principal wife, white
washed from head to foot, attends on the corpse. As
soon as the period of mourning is past, the entrance is
closed, and the hut and its owner's body left to decay.
In some villages a different custom is followed.
When Werwer-Melun, the chief of Melbongan, died,
his body was exposed to the sky on a high platform
supported by a framework of bamboo poles. The
ground below was carpeted with coloured croton
leaves. Beside the " war-wars " was a " maki," a circular
structure like an altar, built of slabs of coral. It was
about five feet across and two feet high, and had ap
parently been built at some great ceremony to kill
pigs on. It is called a " war." Around it grew four
or five slim trees resembling poplars, the "li-ra"
(blood-tree), whose buds, bursting into scarlet bloom,
indicated the beginning of the native New Year. It
was the signal for making new gardens and planting
the yams ("dem"); and thus a year is itself called
a " dem," a yam-season.
Between the "li-ra" trees and set in the ground
round the altar-like structure were a number of large,
black, weird-looking heads with human features, which
had been carved out of the inverted stems of fern-

The Polity of the Heathen 119
trees. Each of these was also called a " maki " J (or
nenna = image, likeness). Some small "makis" of
coral, called " burangs," each of which had been built
for a tusked pig to be slaughtered on, extended in a
line from the side of one of the "war-wars." The
stile, as we have seen, was built across the " burangs."
On looking over the stile we saw a sight more weird
and interesting still. Past two or three more "war-
wars," and on the opposite side of the open space, or
dancing ground, a space sacred to the men, stood a
lofty bamboo screen, the full height of the bamboos.
Across its front, about ten feet from the ground, was
a platform, and beneath the platform stood three or
four gigantic "makis," images carved of fern trunks.
In some islands the number is much greater; there
may be as many as twenty or thirty standing in a
row. They are usually eight or nine feet high. The
magnified features are smoothed over with some kind
of clay or composition, so as to take on colours.
The pigments prepared by the natives themselves —
black, white, brown, dark-green, and magenta — were
much more tasteful than the coarser colours they
obtained from the traders. One of these images at
Fanting was sunk and half-hidden in an open pit,
apparently to conceal the lower part of the structure.
It was the only one of the kind there, and its position
indicated at least some degree of shame on the part
of its owner. The worst thing of this kind I ever
saw was at the door of a chiefs hut in a distant
village; but he too was not without some virtue, if
1 " Maki " is the general term for all these rude structures, whether built
of earth, or wood, or stone. A "tusked" pig is one in which the upper
tusks have been removed at an early stage of their growth. The lower ones
thereupon develop unchecked, may complete the circle, and in doing so may
enter and pierce through the jaw again.

120 The Conflict
shame may be counted among the virtues, for one
rebuke proved sufficient : it had disappeared on our
second visit
Nevertheless, first impressions are often wrong. The
fact that sex is so often emphasised in these carvings
is not necessarily a proof of depravity. In assuming
that it is, we may be doing the people an injustice.
The images, as a rule, simply represent men in their
everyday attire. To go about thus is the custom, and
— as we shall see — their scant attire need not be taken
as an indication of a want of modesty.
Near by the " makis " stood a group of native
drums — trees hollowed out, with an open slit up the
front. Above they graduated to a point ; some, having
an uncanny-looking face carved above the slit, seemed
to be wearing a huge old-fashioned nightcap. Some
smaller drums of high pitch lay on the ground and
were beaten with sticks ; the drum - sticks for the
larger ones were about a foot long, and were shaped
out of the thick end of the midrib of a cocoanut frond.
Various crotons, lilies, and a row of tabu-palms
grew within the area, and added to its sacredness.
No woman dare pass that way.
"These, doubtless," said one of our visitors from
civilisation, " are their altars and idols ? "
" Not at all ; at least, not in the sense you mean."
" What are they, then ? "
" Take first that which you call an altar. There is
no trace of worship or sacrifice connected with it.
It is simply a monumental receipt, witnessing that
Mai has paid for his wives. After a chief has had
possession of a wife for a sufficient time, the father and
relations demand that he complete the payment. A day
is fixed ; they bring presents of food for the feast and

A DRUM.
(Fanting.;

The Polity of the Heathen 121
build the ' maki ' ; he crowns it with pigs, which is their
coin. The ' maki ' then becomes his property, and is
preserved as a witness that his obligations have been
fulfilled ; a witness also to his rank and influence."
" But those big painted images are surely idols ? "
" No. Everything you see here is a sign or monu
ment of social rank. Just as a student displays his
diploma and hood as proofs of having taken a degree ;
or as a fully fledged lawyer dons a wig and gown ;
or a knight shows his crest, — so when a chief attains
a certain rank and receives a new name to indicate
his rise in the social scale, the chiefs greater than he,
who came to perform the ceremony, — from distant
villages or from the neighbouring islands, — erect the
' maki ' for him, and receive the pay."
Thereupon we had to explain once more that among
these people there were ten ranks1 or castes, begin
ning with the common folk, and terminating with the
Mai, the highest.
There are also various degrees of each rank. All
those of the same rank cook and eat at the same fire,
and, in the earlier stages before marriage, may have
one house in common, a kind of bachelors' hall. The
one ambition of life was to climb the social ladder,
1 The ranks are : —
I. The common folk.
2. Berang, small chief — got by killing 5 pigs, of which one must
be tusked.
3. Vir, on payment of 7 more pigs.

4. Sakran,

11

15 „ „

5. Ngurur,

n

15 11 11

6. Gulgul,

11

18 1,

7. Nairn,

n

20 11 11

8. Melun,

n

30 to 40 11

9. Lugubaru,

11

100 n

0. Mai,

11

200 to 300 11

122 The Conflict
and ascend from rank to rank, and attain chieftainship
and power.
In fact, the system may be compared to a terraced
mountain, one terrace rising above another to the
summit. Flights of steps, carved out of the mountain
side, lead upward from terrace to terrace. On the
plain below are the common folk and the women and
children. All the youths and men of any spirit or
worth in the village are mounting the steps some
where on the mountain-side, each climbing and striv
ing to pass his neighbour. No man likes to be classed
with women and children, and to avoid it must strive
upwards. The system is a direct incentive to thrift,
and it offers a fair field and no favour. Ambition
supplies the stimulus. The climb is lifelong. At
the top are the thrones, or seats of power.
" But when the pigs are killed on these altar-like
structures, are they not in some way offered to these
images or idols ? "
" Not at all. Just as among ourselves some men
worship fame, some wealth, and some power, and
spend life in striving to attain their desire, so is it
with these people. Say, if you will, that the pigs
are sacrificed at the shrine of ambition. But these
images are not idols, nor is there sacrifice or worship
offered to them."
"But I saw offerings of plantains and cocoanuts
placed on the ground at their feet ! "
" Just so ; but they were not offerings to the images.
The big image, ' nenna,' is, like the ' war,' a monu
mental receipt. It is a standing witness to the fact
that the owner of it has paid for its erection, and has
risen to a higher rank and is known by a new name."
" But what about those plantains and cocoanuts ? "

u 0

z

The Polity of the Heathen 123
" The owner of the ' nenna ' you refer to was dead.
At the feasts that are made in his memory, the image
is often painted up afresh, and some of the food laid
beside it, not as offerings, but as a token of memory
and affection ; also that the great man's ghost, should
he revisit the scenes of his life, might be pleased to
see that he was not being forgotten.1 His spirit does
not live in the image, nor has the image any super
natural power. It is sacred only in the sense of being
' sacred to his memory,' and that only for a time. For
in due time it may be sold by his son to procure the
wherewithal to pay for his own advancement."
For with every step a man takes upwards he has to
pay for his footing. As we have noted already, there
is only one coin — pigs. And to get pigs a man exer
cises all his ingenuity. The result is that men of most
parts, and of the greatest cunning, keep to the front.
Popularity, or a father's generosity, may help a
young fellow upward; but the system is democratic,
and the road to power is open to all.
After a great chiefs death his pigs are all eaten,
a feast being held every fifth day for that purpose.
In that way his sons are prevented from reaping an
unfair advantage over their fellows. So strict is the
system that a member of a lower order may not eat
the food, or cook at the fire, of a higher order. The
penalty for so doing is a heavy fine, or death. A
" Melun " (pronounced meloon) and a " Lugubaru "
are allowed to build wooden fences round their huts,
and to cultivate the plants and flowers belonging to
their order. We passed a dead fire one day on the
track. My boy at once exclaimed —
1 See also Codrington 's ' Melanesians ; their Anthropology, &c.,' chap.
xi. But note also Lesson vii., p. 218, post.

124 The Conflict
" That was a Melun's ! "
" How do you know ? "
He pointed to a plant stuck in the ground beside
the fire. The Melun could not wait for the fire to
die, so he put the plant there to warn the lower
orders. In a large village I noticed a ladder, of
native construction, which crossed the roof of a chiefs
hut and led up to a scaffold. To every rung of the
ladder was bound a palm frond, probably represent
ing a pig ; and from the scaffold some royal (crimson)
mats were displayed. Thus he exhibited the steps
by which he had ascended to power.
When a sufficient number of young men or chiefs
in a village or district are ready to pay the fees and
take a step upward in rank, preparations are begun
on a large scale for a feast. A day is selected —
possibly after the new gardens have been fenced,
cleaned, and the crops planted. Every year a fresh
site is selected for these, the bush cleared away, and
pig -proof fences built. They have to rely on leaf-
mould for manuring the soil ; and, as the fences decay
rapidly, each season a virgin part of the bush, or a
part that has long lain fallow, is selected, and the
whole work gone through again, — no light task.
A more suitable time for the ceremonies is after
the crops have matured — principally bananas and
yams, taro and cabbage (a shrub), sweet potatoes,
pumpkins, and sugar-cane. The bread-fruit affords
them an extra supply of food from August to Sep
tember. But the yam is the chief article, and ripens
about May. They sometimes attain a length of five
or six feet, and so it may take half a day's labour to
dig up one potato. These are stored in the open —
laid on a platform, or tied cross-wise to an upright
slab, or suspended to a framework. In some villages

YAMS.
"Half a day's labour to dig up one potato.'

The Polity of the Heathen 125
the event is celebrated with great rejoicing. One
sunny forenoon a strange volume of sound was wafted
down the valley from the mountain - side — a medley
of voices in weird exultation, which at first woke
a feeling of terror in the hearts of those who heard
it. It was the harvest-home of Melbongan.
When the high day has come, the people gather in
from all directions. Whole villages may arrive in a
body, singing and dancing, the women bearing loads
of garden produce, the men carrying pigs on poles.
The fruits of the earth are laid in a great heap in
the village. A committee of chiefs is appointed, who
carry out their duty of reapportioning the various
items with great gravity. Each carries a list — a
notched stick — of the donors from the village he
represents. In this way no one is forgotten, and
each carries home again an exchange of food, and
therefore of seed for the next season's planting.
As for the men, they carry their burdens into the
sacred area and throw them down on the ground.
Thereupon the owner of each pig seizes the unlucky
animal and twists one of its feet, bending it back and
dislocating it. A most cruel procedure, which elicits
nerve-grating squeals. This is a guarantee that the
pig shall be eaten and not kept. I remember watch
ing one youth cast down his pig and plant his pole in
the ground beside it.
" Is he, too, paying for a new name ? " I whispered
to the man next me.
"No; he's a good fellow: he. does that for merit.
He wants a good place in the next world."
Amid great rejoicing the "makis" are unveiled.
Each candidate mounts the platform above in turn,
and is received with a shower of missiles, which he
cleverly dodges. Suddenly there is a great uproar.

126 The Conflict
A huge crocodile rushes through the village, appar
ently pursuing a man, who leaps and flies from before
it, scattering the spectators on every side, amid shrieks
and yells and bursts of laughter. Again a band of
strange creatures appear in the woods and threaten to
attack the village in different quarters. At length,
growing bold, they throw themselves boisterously
among the villagers, and, reaching the central area,
begin dancing and singing. They wear queer and
terrifying masks, and wild flowing locks, and are
covered to the ground in rustling hoods of brown
ribbons — the dried sheaths of the banana plants.
Originally they were believed by the uninitiated to
be ghosts. The dancers (and the festival too) are
called "rom." Their appearance is a feature in the
day's amusements.
If there is a high-chief, or Mai, among the can
didates, a great chief and his followers are engaged
to come from a distance, it may be from another
island, to perform the ceremony and build the stone
wall. The feasting and dancing go on for days.
The candidate levies on all his neighbours and friends
for the requisite number of pigs. There is a great
display of these animals, the new name is given,
and the visitors retire, their big canoes laden with
spoil. They get the names from strange sources at times.
One day, passing an old "war-war," I asked the lad
at my side who was buried there.
" My father, Mis-mal."
" What did you call him ? "
" Mr Mai."
" Where did he get that name ? " I asked.
" From Queensland. Some boy come back, and he
say they call all big master there all same."

A SMALL "PLATFORM."

The Polity of the Heathen 127
Strange to say, the first step in climbing the ladder
of Ambition is circumcision. All the lads in a village
who are about the age of eight or ten years, and are
ready for this step, are assembled in a large hut which,
thereafter, may become their dwelling. Some of the
young men take charge of the rite, and two of their
number perform it. A piece of glass bottle or a
bamboo knife is used to cut against a pointed stick
of soft wood. A single dorsal slit is thus made in
the part, sufficient to prevent phimosis and para
phimosis. The boys remain in the big hut for seven
or ten days till healing is complete. The terminal
part is then rolled in a wide strip of young banana
leaf and attached to the belt above. This is all the
dress required for manhood's years ; even a high chief
requires no more. He may supplement it with a
plaited crimson strap or belt with tassels, but this
is merely an ornament and a sign of rank. They are
as modest as ourselves, and the strip of leaf is as
much to them as a whole suit of clothes to us. Let
our refined sisters, when next they come on holiday
tour, remember this. A company of them were walk
ing the beach on a neighbouring island, and met a
body of the islanders. Instantly the umbrellas were
dropped, to cover a line of blushing faces. The
natives were puzzled. Were the ladies so ugly ? As
the truth dawned upon him, the chief might well
ask indignantly —
" Why this rudeness ? We are as fashionably
dressed as they ! "
And the same may be said of the native women.
Though their whole array is but a short fringe wound
again and again around the hips, many of them are
possibly as modest as their overdressed sisters.
As the operation on each youth is completed, the

128 The Conflict
performers put their heads outside of the hut and give
vent to three or four shrill whoops. Thereupon the
women and girl wives in the village begin to wail.
In passing through on one such occasion, I found
them actually shedding tears. The reason was not
far to seek. Here as elsewhere the women are the
sufferers. They are doomed ever to remain on the
plain. But the boy had become a man ; his childhood
was past, and, in a sense, he had for ever left his
mother's side. Every day and every year the distance
must increase.
" But," asked our visitor, " do the women not share
in their husbands' advancement ? "
"Yes, and no. They belong as it were to a lower
order of beings. They may not approach the men's
fires, nor eat of their food. To them the sow's flesh
is assigned, which a man will not touch. But it
is not in human nature for them not to imitate their
lords. So they have formed themselves into society
sets or cliques, and give parties and ' at homes.'
They have organised themselves into ranks 1 or grades,
and have set about climbing a Hill of Ambition. It
is a noteworthy fact that their highest rank barely
reaches the first grade among the men, and is called
' Berang-Vir.' In other words, the summit of their
Hill does not quite reach the height of the first terrace
on the men's Mountain. So that the best they can
1 The degrees of rank among the women are eight in number : —
I. Salinda. 5. La-war.
2. Ling-fa. 6. Mo-na-tan.
3. La-vit. 7. Berang.
4. Yim-mar-kon. 8. Berang-Vir.
The term Berang seems to be applied to a. man of no rank. He has only
begun to climb. So that Berang-Vir, as applied to a woman, marks a stage
between nothing and the first definite grade of manhood (Vir).

The Polity of the Heathen 129
say of the most worthy and advanced woman amongst
them is, that she is almost a man."
If the men happened to be seated, a woman must
crawl past on her knees, or wait till they rise. She
is sold for pigs almost from the time she can toddle.
Five or six of these animals are paid in instalments.
And at the age of seven to ten years the child-wife
is delivered to her purchaser, possibly an old villainous-
looking chief. Injury and lifelong suffering are often
the result. Sometimes the child is allowed to remain
with her people till she has reached the age of twelve.
Then with tears and great crying she is borne off to
her husband's village. This may have to be done
several times, and the whip may be used. If the
young wife is high-spirited and will not stay, the
husband may chop off a foot, or more commonly fasten
a hot stone in the bend of the knee till the skin is
burned through and the sinews are affected. This
does not often occur, for all men are not fiends ; and
in some homes there grows a very fond attachment.
But there may come a still greater trial — division
of the affections. Mai had three wives, and Botingi,
whom we have already met, was his youngest, and
the favourite. But he took a fourth, a young " gip "
of about twelve. At the marriage feast, or reception,
Botingi had now to put out her own fire, and, taking
an ember from the dying coals, creep along on her
knees and light with it the fire of the young bride.
It was terribly significant of a dead affection, and its
effect soon appeared. To a true woman there is no
throne like that of her husband's affections. She grew
old, withered, cynical. The light faded from her eyes.
She took ill ; became spirit-broken ; and within two or
three years passed out of life.

130

CHAPTER III.
The Struggle for Supremacy.
It was against this system, all unknowingly, we had
pitted ourselves. On the other hand, Mal-Pang-kumu,
to give him his full title, had bargained for a servant,
and not a master. A conflict was inevitable. Nor
was the conflict long in coming.
Our advent had brought them new ideals, new
knowledge, new modes of living, and had lifted the
horizon of life to an immense distance. In the light
of the broad world their little lives and systems seemed
insignificant. With the conceit of citizens of the
great world, we are tempted to despise and belittle.
Yet, viewed from their standpoint, there was much
in their way of life to claim our admiration. Com
pelled to spend the whole of their existence within
the scope of a few square miles, and ringed in with
a wall of violent foes and of foreign tongues, the
wonder is they achieved so much. In like circum
stances Europeans could hardly have done better.
We may affect to despise their pride in pigs ; but if
the derivation of the name Stuart is correct, our
royalties were once on the same level. As for their
canoes, I saw in an Edinburgh museum a similar
" dug-out," at one time used by our forefathers, and
now recovered from the mud of the Clyde.

The Struggle for Supremacy 131
To the chiefs their system was as dear as life itself.
Indeed it was the one thing that had made life worth
living. They would be slow, very slow, to acknow
ledge that — for them — the ways of the white man
were better than their own. So we set ourselves to
woo them patiently towards the better part, and
sought to adopt a manner kind and sympathetic,
and a method at once firm, just, and tactful.
The young people were the first to see where the
advantage lay. They had no prejudices, and the whole
of life was still before them. So one morning I was
startled by a voice at my feet, saying —
" Master, me come and work for you ? "
He was a little fellow about twelve years old, so
deformed that he could not rise from the ground, and
had to crawl along on hands and knees.
" What is your name ? "
" Lili."
" What can you do ? "
" Climb trees. Pull up weeds."
He could scramble up a tall palm, fifty feet high,
like a squirrel — to pluck the nuts. As for weeds, there
were plenty to pull. With him came a big lump of
a boy with an injured arm. He too wanted to join
our growing staff. To them heathenism had not much
to offer, and trouble had sharpened their wits. After
a little demurring we took them ; not for what they
were worth, but because they would serve as a mode
of contact, and bring us into vital connection with the
life of the village. Then came another lad, Bongmimi,
from a village on the shore a mile away. Him also
we took on.
Mai had been trying in every way possible to gain
the upper hand and show his authority. It was all in

132 The Conflict
vain. The attempts generally ended in a brief tempest
of high words — on his side. And he still covetously
eyed the boat. One day he preferred a request in his
most polite manner. He was afraid he was asking
too much, the missionary was so busy. Would I go
and see a sick man a few miles up the coast.
" Nonsense, Mai ; you know we are always ready
to help the sick."
We were glad to be able to gratify him in a legiti
mate way, and readily granted him a passage. We
found the sick man, and found, too, that there was
little wrong with him. We even thought he seemed
surprised to see us — "It was such kindness on our
part." When we got back to the boat, we discovered
the real reason for our visit. In our absence a great
tusker had been stowed in the bow. Night overtook
us ; the sea got up ; the brute broke loose. There was
scarcely a sound rib in the boat, and the planks were
old and thin. We had been properly taken in. It
was with immense relief we felt the keel grate on the
sand once more. We would not be caught again.
Mai, so far as one could judge of his face in the moon
light, looked a picture of innocence all through.
On another occasion it was reported that Fanting
was short of food. The calamity we are about to
describe had destroyed their crops. Would we lend
Mai the boat to go to Ranon — some 15 miles away —
to get yams ? This time we were glad of a chance
to heap coals of fire on his head for his mean boycott
of us in similar straits. The boat was given, and Mai
sailed away up the coast in a new guise — wearing a
shirt ! Now, to wear a shirt is a sign of joining the
new faith, in goodwill if not in actual fact. The old
rogue ! On his return we learned that he had been

The Struggle for Supremacy 133
away to arrange for a " singsing." It was about the
only time in his life he was seen with a shirt on.
Our first Christmas had come and gone. It was
a time of merriment and goodwill. We had large
gatherings, hearty services, a day of sports and feast
ing, and had begun the year with great good feeling.
In the meantime 'the staff had been strengthened.
The Mission Committee in New Zealand had ap
pointed and sent down two lay -assistants: one of
them was married, and the other, being a thoroughly
practical man and an engineer of experience, was a
decided acquisition.
On New Year's Eve two other little missionaries
had come, or were sent, to our aid : and right worthy
did they prove themselves to the title. A third room
was hastily added to our wee house, and a double cot
constructed. Two little men were they, one fair, the
other dark, straight from God's own hands.
In them intelligence dawned rapidly. And when,
hammer and rule in hand, one paused for a brief
moment to bend over and smile at them, the little
blue gowns were kicked aside and the cot became a
thicket of waving fingers and toes, each little digit
giving tongue to the story which they would fain tell
with shining eyes and voiceful chirrupings. No parent
bird had ever warmer welcome from its fledgeling
nest. The native youths, too, were coming about and
inclining favourably towards us. One morning four
of them, the pick of the young men in the village,
applied for employment. They had put off their orna
ments, and had washed their faces free of decorative
designs. " What is your name ? " I asked of one of them.

134 The Conflict
" Bongnaim."
" But you are a ' sakran,' are you not ? "
"Yes, master." (The term "master" had been
introduced from Queensland.)
They had come prepared to lay aside their rank,
wear clothing, and join the mission. This involved
staying on the premises, attending the classes, and
working during bell hours. In return they were fed,
clothed, and paid a fair island wage. We hoped they
would become teachers in good time, and meanwhile
there was plenty to do.
The day of trial was not far distant. Mai was
jealous of every accession to our strength, and he was
determined to maintain his authority over these lads.
Preparations were being pushed forward for a "sing
sing" in a village at the head of the valley. The
Fanting people were to be among the guests, and were
nightly practising their parts and songs. Bongnaim
and his fellows were warned of the impossibility of
serving two masters. Attendance at the " singsing "
would mean dismissal.
When the feast-day arrived the lads were not at
their posts. On making inquiry we learned that they
had joined the festive party. We were soon on the
track, and overtook them as they were nearing their
destination. They presented a picture I shall not
willingly forget. The woods echoed to their song, and
the caverns beneath to the stamping of their feet.
Happy, dancing children of Nature, they were as much
a part of their wild surroundings as the birds and the
flowers. Their rounded forms and shining copper
skins were ornament and dress in one. A touch of
red powder or a scarlet blossom gave all the colour
that was needed, and was the only addition to their

The Struggle for Supremacy 135
scant and simple dresses. The men were the dancers ;
a dense knot of interlocking, wrestling limbs and forms
in the centre of the track, they rapidly changed places
and swung again to the outskirts of the band. The
women and girls followed, keeping step, joining in
the refrain, advancing and retreating, but slowly pro
gressing. Among the dancers we soon perceived our boys.
We were sorry to interrupt or spoil their pleasure,
but the path of duty was clear. Watching my chance,
I caught the arm of the eldest as he swung outwards
towards me.
" What does this mean, Saran ? "
" Can't help it, master ! "
" Why so ? "
"You look. Suppose I no come, they shoot me.
Suppose I go back, they shoot me."
I stooped down and looked in the direction he in
dicated, and among the feet of the dancers, in the
centre of the knot, could be seen the brass-bound butt
of a Tower musket.
" Are you afraid to come ? "
" Yes, master," apologetically.
" Very well ; speak to me to-night."
When evening came, they received their pay and
were dismissed to the village, towards which they
went off reluctantly. We were sorry, too, for already
we had become attached. During the next few days
they hung about us, and at length gained sufficient
courage to ask to be taken back. They promised to
be faithful thereafter, and so they were — even to
death. One of the first tasks of the New Year was to
provide house-room for the assistants. With that

136 The Conflict
end in view they went to Ranon in the boat, taking
all the older boys and men to assist in pulling down
the old mission - house. During their absence Mai
made one more effort to reassert his power.
It was a Friday afternoon. I was busy indoors
when my attention was aroused by loud angry voices.
I hurried outside, and found Mai with some of his
followers roundly abusing and threatening the three
young boys, the cripple and his companion and
Bongmimi, for eating bread-fruit off the mission-trees.
I warmly defended the boys as having acted within
their right; then, turning to "Skinny Charlie," who
was one of the number, I said —
"What does Mai mean by this?" Mai himself by
this time was quiet.
" Mai and all the men of Fanting are very cross
because these boys eat the food belonging to the
chiefs." " But the trees are not Mai's, Charlie. He sold
them, and his money is still here."
" Master," pleaded Charlie, " that money no good
along this country. Suppose you no pay all same men
do here, that not fair. All men say you no speak
good. And the taboo on the trees stop (remains in
force) all the time."
So feeling in Fanting ran high. The chiefs were
feeling insulted that these boys should be eating the
food of the higher social ranks. According to native
ideas gold could not remove the taboo. By this time
we understood the position better ; so we now promised
Mai the best his money could buy. So the Master,
"lest we cause them to stumble," paid tribute and
rendered to Caesar his due.
But Mai was not yet appeased, and at a feast next

The Struggle for Supremacy 137
day in the village, while haranguing the crowd, declared
his intention of "closing Bong's eyes" — by violence
or "poison." That night, after all were in bed, the
stillness was suddenly broken by the report of a musket
at close quarters, and a noise like bedlam arose in the
village — a medley of shrieks, cries, yells, and the beat
ing of drums. In the darkness a figure rushed past
the back of the house, leaped over the gangway that
led to the kitchen, and disappeared into the garden
among the bananas and rustling corn. We hurried
outside, but the noise died away as suddenly as it
had arisen, and all was quiet. Therefore no one could
have been shot ; and, considering discretion the better
part of valour, we postponed an investigation till the
morning. During the past few months we had been called
upon to mediate between several of the villages and
prevent bloodshed. Every time a death occurred
some one was blamed for having occasioned it by
" aple," poison. He or a fellow-villager must be shot
in revenge. The chiefs professed to be able to detect
the poisoner by a method of divination. Having
gathered a bunch of bracken fronds, the chief con
cerned sat down and with solemn face examined them
one by one. Satisfied that all were perfect, he drew
each quickly between the finger and thumb of the left
hand, stripping off all the side leaves, and apparently
keeping a certain village or person in mind. If
the leaves stripped off evenly, that village or person
was out of the question, and vice versa. Thus they
divined first the village and then the man. So I
judged from watching the proceeding, for the chiefs
were very chary about explaining their secrets.
This, then, would be an attempt to take revenge on

138 The Conflict
some suspected person in Fanting. I was wrong. It
proved to be Mai's first step towards "poisoning"
Bong — by striking terror into the boy's soul.
The explanation given in the morning was, that a
man had seen the Devil on the bank above the sea
and close to the " mel," and had given the alarm. A
son of Mai's fired off his gun, and the others yelled and
took shelter. But Bong understood it all, and for
safety fled to the mountains.
It was Mai's turn next. Despite his threats, we had
no intention of barricading the doors and blanketing
the windows, and sitting down in darkness to be shot
at. Windows and doors were kept open, the blinds
remained up, and the lamps at night burned brightly
as ever. The fact that we did nothing, took no notice,
and went calmly on our way, brought a great fear into
Mai's heart. He was not used to that, and concluded
that there was some dread power at work behind. An
enemy conveyed a malignant whisper into his ear ; it
found ready lodgment. Within two days, terror-
stricken, he and his abettors, except " Skinny Charlie,"
had fled by canoe to the east of the island, and re
mained in hiding for fourteen days.
During his absence we learned many of the facts
recorded in the previous chapter about the polity of
the people. With Charlie and some others we went
over the ground and inspected the trees, and discovered
that of claimants to ownership there were no less than
twenty-two. It was as we had surmised. These men
were angry at the sale of their property, which gave
them nothing, not even a feast. We promised to deal
fairly by them, and bade them send word to Mai.
Bong too came back.
My own boys were much exercised in spirit at Mai's

The Struggle for Supremacy 139
return, and were going about with faces as long as
fiddles. The morning after his return he took an
opportunity of glowering savagely into the school —
to some purpose. For, from that moment, Bong lost
his tongue, and seemed three or four years older. He
got worse day by day, and by Sunday was delirious.
I found him lying on the ground, clutching an axe, and
raving in fear and fever, with a temperature of 104°.
As soon as we had got him through the attack, it
seemed to us best to pay him well and send him
home. This was our first experience of " aple " and
its working. The weaker members of society so feared
the power of the chiefs, that, when threatened, they
would die, in a few days, of sheer terror.
Mai also and his followers were in an uneasy state
of mind, as the sequel showed. That Sunday we
went into Fanting, as usual, for an afternoon service.
As we neared the " mel " a mat was thrust in our
face, closing the door. It was meant as an insult,
and we took it as such. Suddenly the mat was
dropped. "Who did that?" we asked sharply. "We are
your friends."
" There are friends — and friends ! " retorted a wizened
spitfire sardonically, from the corner next the door.
He struck one as being the philosopher of the village.
It was he who had put up the mat.
Mai himself was glaring at me across the "mel."
I looked at him quietly, and said —
" We are come to have a talk with you."
But they were not to be caught with suavity this
time, and seeing the book in my hand, he shouted
angrily —
" Go and preach elsewhere ! "

140 The Conflict
It was my turn to feel hot, but I was able to answer
him calmly —
" Bad manners, Mai ! Come with your men in the
morning and let us settle this affair. I am your friend,
but you are not mine."
To our surprise, some note had been struck that
thoroughly alarmed them. Mai sprang out of the big
hut towards us, and extended his hand. Lugo-Baru,
his brother, did likewise, and reminded us that he had
always been a friend, and had with his own hands
shouldered goods up from the shore. The other
men followed in like strain. One of them handed
us a mat to sit on, and the service was proceeded
with. During the past few days we had been trying to
formulate some plan of action which would ensure
safety to our boys, curb the power of the chiefs,
and make for amity and peace. And at last success
crowned our efforts. Before another week had passed
we had a general meeting in the schoolroom, the
whole mission party at one side of the table, Mai and
his followers at the other. We explained to them that
our ways of thinking and theirs were so different we
could not help misunderstanding one another at first,
but the time for that was gone by. We could not give
them back the land ; but they should keep their trees
and the fruit during their lifetime, and every man's
trees should be duly marked. With the price of the
ground we would procure for Mai and his brother as
fine a pig as possible. On the other hand, we re
minded them that for evil-doers, black or white, a ship
of war was no phantom. Mai must admit his offence
and promise in writing that such should not occur
again. This he did. The document, stained with the

The Struggle for Supremacy 141
rain of the hurricane, lies before me ; its last sentence
is as follows : —

"Wherefore I, Mai- Pang -kumu, at Dr Lamb's
request, and to prevent possible evil arising to me
and my people, do this day retract the above threats
(of 'poisoning' and shooting), do declare myself a
friend of the Mission, and do assure all members and
would-be members of the Mission party of their
personal safety."
Dated and signed. Mal-Pang-kumu, his mark.
The trees were then formally transferred to them
again, and a metal ticket was attached to each, in
dicating the ownership. Next morning Mai appeared
at our door, his face all smiles, with another pig and
the tabu-palm.
Thus, in this circle of villages, the battle was fought
and won. It was to be fought over again in every
district on the island.
But a far different settlement was in store. Within
a month a cyclone overwhelmed us all in one common
ruin, and with giant scythe mowed every tree to the
ground. It was a catastrophe which drew forth many
touches of nature and made our whole world kin.

142

CHAPTER IV.
A Hurricane.
" You certainly haven't built for a hurricane, have you,
now ? "
" Surely you don't expect a hurricane to pass right
over our heads the first season we are here ? " I said in
reply. " Don't know. Hurricanes are queer things. Come
and see the house we are putting up. Guess a hurri
cane won't shift us anyhow."
Rocco was standing at our front door looking up at
the ventilators and eaves. He had brought down the
first load of old timber from Ranon in his smart ketch,
the Circe. It was the first time I had met him, and he
was inclined to show a little pique because hitherto
he thought he had been passed by. That explained,
he was genial enough. However, he proved a true
weather prophet. It was his first and last load — to
us ; for before he could come again, the dreaded hurri
cane was upon us, and his little vessel found a last
resting-place on the bed of the ocean.
We were not ashamed of our little abode : it was
meant to be temporary; put together with bolts and
screws, to be easily pulled apart and shifted when we
had become satisfied as to the best site. It was

A Hurricane 143
covered with iron on walls and roof, and lined and
ceiled with half- inch kauri and Indian matting. A
feature worthy of notice in passing was the method
of ventilation. The hot-air chamber in the roof had
no connection with the rooms below, and was ven
tilated through the gables and open eaves. There
were no ventilators in the ceilings ; for experience had
shown that whenever there is a breeze, light or strong,
the current is reversed, and the heated air is driven
downwards through these into the rooms underneath.
And how warm that air can be after contact with the
iron may easily be inferred from the fact that, in the
hot season, the natives sometimes rush across the
exposed parts of a track shouting: despite the thick
ness of their soles, the ground is hot enough to burn.
So a ventilator, six inches wide, was carried right
round the house, by affixing hinges to a weather-board,
a short distance below the eaves.
Thus, day and night, the rooms received an abun
dant supply of fresh cool air. This contrivance pro
bably saved the lives of some of us on the eventful
night. For, in the progress of a cyclone, there is a suc
cession of terrific blasts, during which the air is
densely compressed. The blasts suddenly cease, and
the air as suddenly expands. It must find a vent,
or way of escape. Seldom does it find a sufficient
vent ready, as in such a storm doors and windows
are usually tightly closed. In such a case, the sudden
expansion of the air acts like an explosion of gun
powder. The walls are forced apart and the roof is
lifted. Hence the woeful destruction in the track of
a cyclone. Such was our experience. Before the breath of

144 The Conflict
the giant, our humble dwelling was but a house of
cards ; but, with the passing of each blast, the ven
tilators spontaneously rose and fell, and its life (and
ours) was prolonged till we had escaped from the
danger. We accepted Rocco's invitation, and one morning,
before the breakfast-hour had arrived, presented our
selves at the new house. His son was glad to see
us, — had just laid aside his trowel, and was preparing
for a few whiffs before the meal. He showed us round.
The structure was substantial enough, — a single,
four-square chamber, eight or ten yards in diameter,
with walls about eight feet high. These were about
two feet thick, built of cobble-stones and mortar. The
lime, burned fragments of finger-coral, sets like cement.
Windows and doors were few. The roof was shaped
like a pyramid, so that the wind should find no pro
jecting angles or gables to catch hold of. As for the
rafters and joists, they were great beams, thick enough
to please the eye and test the strength of a Samson.
But what caught my attention at once was the
intense heat within. There was no outlet for the
hot air from the roof, which, by means of the plaster,
was hermetically sealed down on the walls all round.
Perhaps it is as well that we don't all think alike.
But from what has already been said, the result may
be forecasted. In the midst of the hurricane the
building suddenly exploded. The walls were, in part,
forced from their foundation and laid flat, split from
end to end. The roof was lifted and carried away
like an umbrella, being borne off in triumph and
dropped in the sea. Bits of corrugated iron, stuck
in the branches far overhead, showed the path it
had taken. One tree was so unfortunate as to be

A Hurricane 145
in the way, and its trunk being struck by the end
of a beam, was literally transfixed, spear -wise, the
end projecting on the other side.
Cyclones have been compared to the whirls and
eddies seen in a flowing stream. In the South Pacific
these circular storms arise near the equator, and are
carried along by the great upper and lower currents
of the atmosphere. At first they travel westward,
veering more and more to the south : when the middle
latitudes are reached, the direction is reversed, and
they turn back towards the south-west.
Along this path they travel at twenty to thirty
miles an hour, or faster. In the cyclone itself the
wind is gyrating in a circle, or ellipse, at an enormous
speed — from left to right, like the hands in a watch.
In the centre of the circle is a region of absolute
calm. Judging from experience, in our hurricane
this region was five to ten miles across ; but the
influence of the storm was felt over a path hundreds
of miles wide.
Saturday, March 4, 1893, was a stormy, wet day.
The wind blew from the east, the usual quarter with
us, in irregular gusts. As the rain and wind were
increasing, we secured the boat and the timber, and
covered the latter to keep it as dry as possible. By
the afternoon a storm was raging. Darkness came
early. At eight o'clock, in a flash of lightning, I
saw the engineer, Mr Mansfield, passing the window.
He was taking a look round and trying to make things
more secure. At 9 p.m. we retired. Sleep we could
not. The house shook with the violence of the wind,
and the noise of the rain was deafening. At ten
o'clock we got up again, and turned up the lamp.
The babes slept on, all unconscious. The aneroid
K

146 The Conflict
showed a rapidly falling barometer. Outside the
trees were being torn up by the roots. Then came
a loud knock at the door. The assistants were there.
" Our roof was lifting, and we thought it wise to
come over."
There was another rap at the door, and the boys,
in twos and threes, came crowding into the little
dining-room. The lights began to flicker, the back
door and wall to bend in. With every passing gust
the ventilators flapped up and down ; and the hand
of the aneroid rose and fell like a miniature flail. Thus
far, though high-set, it had fallen to 28"2. The wind
was now coming from the south. The advance rim
of the storm was upon us. The heavy timber we had
chained upon the roof of the store, behind the house,
was hurled on to our own roof; and the water began
to trickle through the ceiling. The books were now
tumbling from the shelves. I put my back to the
door; and the boys put theirs to the wall, in the
vain hope of supporting it. A section of the Ranon
house, lying on the ground outside, was picked up
and hurled against the gable end. The picture in
side was shattered, and the glass fell in a shower.
One assistant cried, " Let us pray ! " Said the
other, " Nay, let us fly ! "
And " fly " it was — whither we knew not. The
lightning was intense and constant. We were stumb
ling along in a blue electric flame.
Mr Mansfield went first with a little one under his
cape ; I followed, guiding and supporting others, with a
similar burden. The ground was already covered with
a network of branches. I shouted to Mansfield —
" To the old war-wars ! "
There, by lying on the ground behind the stone

A Hurricane 147
walls, we could find some shelter, and be safe from
falling palms. But he could not hear, the noise was
too great ; and he went towards the village. Once
he fell on his knees in a network of branches. As we
passed the new concrete cottage, the roof exploded,
and the fragments scattered with a report as of a
bomb. We paused for shelter behind the bole of a
tree, and one sheet of iron struck me, broadside on,
but did no harm. At length we reached the chiefs
hut. Mai let us in at once, and by the light of the
smouldering embers of his fire we saw Botingi and,
beyond, the gleaming tusks of a huge grunter. We
were glad to sit down beside the brute in the dark
ness, first on our heels, and, when our joints got
cramped, in the dust and mud. The rude wall of
coral stones surrounding the hut protected it to some
extent from the violence of the wind. The little
thatch covering — for, like the other huts, it was but
a roof set on the ground — was heaving and falling
like the wings of a panting bird. Mai, afraid that
the hut was going to fly away altogether, extended
his arms, and, grasping a rafter on either side, threw
his whole weight on them. During the more violent
gusts he cried out in terror, " Timar ! Timar ! " He
was calling on the ghost of his father to save him.
The rest of our company, which then numbered
some twenty souls, made their way to the large native
house in front of " The Devil's Stone." There they
sat in fear and trembling, praying for salvation. I
knew not what had become of them, and could not
go to see. A tree had fallen across the entrance to
our hut, crushing the stone wall; and to go hunting
in the storm would be fruitless folly. The hours
seemed endless.

148 The Conflict
At length, about half-past one o'clock, there came
a lull. The wind had veered round to south-west,
and then ceased absolutely. The noise died away.
Stillness reigned.
Mr Mansfield hurried outside, and, as soon as I
had safely bestowed my burden, I followed after. The
path was lost under fallen trees and ruined huts. I
met him, returning, at the stile. He grasped me by
the arm —
" Come back, come back, quick ! They say the
storm is coming again."
" What about the station ? Where are the others?"
" They are all safe in the big hut. Everything else
is swept away."
The words were hardly out of his mouth when the
storm burst on us again, with a crashing, tearing sound
it is impossible to describe ; and in its violence and
the darkness I lost him. The blow came from the
opposite quarter, between west and north. The rain
and sand were blinding. So fierce was the wind that
I can remember noticing afterwards how the sand
had polished the side of a canoe on the beach, scrap
ing it as with a knife and restoring the original colour
of the wood.
I had lost my way, and was clinging to the shattered
stump of a bread-fruit-tree, trying to dodge the falling
palms. Their weight was crushing. Once I saw one
bending over me like a whip. It was then our end
seemed to have come, not from the palms, but from
the sea. The water was only a few yards distant
down the bank, and its roar filled one's soul with
horror. It was as though the waves were upon us
and about to sweep all away.
At length, through a more vivid flash of lightning,

A Hurricane 149
I again discerned the projecting gable of the chiefs
hut, and made towards it, creeping along the ground.
In the darkness I ran against something soft, which
moved, close against the wall.
" Hallo ! who is this ? "
" It's me ! I don't know where I am."
It was Mansfield. We got into the hut at last,
the water pouring out of one's dressing-gown in
rivers. The women and children were still safe.
There was nothing else for us to do but sit down
flat in the dirt, and, with sore eyes, stiff limbs, and
growing chill, wait for the morning. The babes
alternately slept and cried on our knees. Poor little
mites ! They got a shock from which they never
recovered. As we crawled out of Mai's hut in the grey dawn,
the scene around us was both awesome and pitiful.
Only four huts remained comparatively whole. The
people's staff of life — a splendid young crop of bread
fruit — lay on the ground, the green balls of all sizes,
and the trees prostrate or broken off short.
The landscape was completely changed. Before,
we could not see the hills for the leafy woods. Now,
they were black and bare as if fire had swept over
them, staring in their nakedness. The land was
smitten and blasted from sea-shore to hill-tops. The
forest had vanished, the leaves had been carried away,
and the ground was knee -deep in branches. Over
them we picked our steps back to the station. The
house had apparently been swept up in the air and
hurled down again ; for the floor, which was all one
piece and firmly clamped, had been knocked to a
lozenge shape, and was upside down on the top of
the ruins. The walls had collapsed, and the roof was

150 The Conflict
jammed against the bole of a hardwood-tree, which
had stopped its progress towards the sea.
We took refuge in the big hut, the only place left
to us. Its ridge had been shorn of thatch as by a
knife. As we stepped into it, it was reeking with
smoke, and dripping like a sieve. Our first work was
to search in the slush and rain for a few articles of
food and clothing. Then to secure the front gable
with anchor and chain, as the wind, now from the
north-east, was still strong. It had gone right round
the compass. With bags and the boat's sail we
covered the gaps in the roof. By evening we were
comparatively comfortable, though into the one hut
there were crowded no less than twenty-one of us,
babe and filthy savage. And thus, working early and
late to construct a new house out of the ruins, we
lived for a fortnight.
Two days later we were able, at great risk, to com
municate with the steamer. The sea was still lumpy,
and we had a narrow escape from drowning. But we
managed to send an appeal to the Colonies on behalf
of the starving populace. As for the people, they were
sympathy itself. We had suffered worse than they,
and so our fortunes were identified with theirs. They
were inclined to fight their enemies on the hills to
the south-west whence the great blow first came. It
was an easy matter to show them their folly and to
dissuade them, for, in truth, they are not fond of
fighting for its own sake, though they are afraid to
appear cowards.
Each day brought back letters, papers, and photo
graphs from the sand or scrub. The trees had been
stripped so bare that shade there was none. The

UNDER THE BANYAN.

A Hurricane 151
birds were homeless wanderers, and, hovering around,
added to the sorrow of desolation. The sun was
merciless. We soon had a roof over our heads. At first it was
unlined, and not till it was too late did we discover
that in the children's corner the temperature reached
1080 F. Their food and medicine had been destroyed.
The goats could not find proper sustenance, and the
milk was affected. The picture on the following page
completes the tale.
The village, and indeed the whole district, had in
their hearts adopted these little ones as their own.
The dignified, blind, old chief, Mal-bongnaun, of
whom more anon, had given them names that con
firmed the fact. It was his great delight, morning by
morning, to sit beside the cradle, and chuckle with
pleasure as he felt the clasp of their little fingers round
his own. If sorrow could have saved them, his was
surely deep enough. Another chief, Mai's brother,
brought his young wife and offered her as a wet nurse.
Might that not save them ? Delicately was the offer
made, and as delicately refused. It was too late.
Their work was done.
As the little procession picked its steps across the
ruins, these strong wild men, as they were passed,
turned their backs to hide their tears, their whole
frame shaking with sobs of suppressed grief. Call
them savages ! They were human enough that day.
We laid them to rest in the bower beneath the
banyan ; the one, as the great yellow moon rose above
the mountains and poured his sombre beams through
the freshly springing leaves ; the other, as daylight
and the morning breeze came out of the east. Upon

152 The Conflict
his work the sun, new-risen, looked down with blush
ing face. Cruel, cruel Orb !
So, having accomplished their work of peace and
goodwill, they passed wholly into the safe keeping
of the glorious ministry of spirits. For " In heaven
their angels do always behold the face of my Father
which is in heaven."

'SMITTEN AND BLASTED.'

153

CHAPTER V.
A Swim for Life.
It was about four o'clock on the afternoon of the
hurricane Saturday when some one called out, " There
goes Rocco ! "
We looked out seaward and saw two small craft,
the Circe and the Consul, flying past before the wind,
their sails rending and blowing away as they rushed
along in the pitiless sea. They had found Ranon bay
unsafe, and were trying to reach a land-locked harbour
in Malekula before nightfall.
The Consul was a large boat, rigged as a cutter,
belonging to the priests. The Roman Church had
honoured us during our stay on the island by clapping
down four priests around us to nullify our efforts. It
was an act almost unprecedented in the Group. The
result was a game of check and countercheck, in which
we seemed always to hold the winning pawns ; for
their nationality was against them, and medicine is
a powerful weapon. They decried our work, tried to
lead our teachers away from us, and to take our
converts; and, not content with that, endeavoured
to convert ourselves. When remonstrated with, they
replied, " It is our duty."
On one occasion two of them came into conflict

154 The Conflict
with one of the teachers at a distant village. The
chief and his people were divided as to whom to
follow. In a small way the battle of Whitby was
fought over again. As on that occasion in England's
history, so here, they asserted their superiority —
" We hold the keys, and your Church is no Church
at all."
We had tried to instil into our boys the truth —
that faith is the key, and that he who is possessed
of Peter's faith, holds a duplieate for himself and
others. But the teacher was not to be outdone.
"Choose," he said to the people — "choose whom
you will follow. But let me remind you that Mary
is French, and that Jesus Christ is English ! "
That was enough, an argument better than any
number of " keys." The story is true, for the priests
themselves told it.1 It was a flash of native wit ;
but it was also the lad's experience of French and
English teaching in Queensland and the Islands.
We fight over our creeds as though they were in
themselves the ends of existence, whereas they are
but the means, or scaffoldings, for the building up of
character ; and the noblest creed is the one that brings
us nearest to God. But truth is truth, and for what
seems to us the truth we must be willing not only
to fight, but to die.
Though we did not like the methods of our rivals,
we did admire their sincerity. We were fairly good
friends, and there was work enough for all. They had
small salaries, and few comforts, and by a life of self-
denial were candidates for the "holy apostolate" and
the noble army of martyrs. To which may they surely
1 And told it with indignation, " Christ an Englishman forsooth ! and
Mary a French woman ! "

A Swim for Life 155
attain ! For to come from a life of solitude and fever
among cannibals is assuredly to "come out of great
tribulation." For the coming of the priests we blamed Rocco.
He had snapped up the first site we had inspected,
so that on our return we found a " Pere " settled there.
However, Rocco atoned for it afterwards by giving us
a site for a church beside his own station, and right
in the village of Ranon.
We had grave doubts if the Circe and her companion
had reached a haven of safety. Two days later our
doubts were confirmed. One of the crew, the second
mate, carrying an oar on his shoulder, came along the
beach from the other side. According to his account
he was the only one saved. He told us that the Circe
was lost in trying to save the Consul. Rocco had put
his best man, the first mate, aboard her at Ranon,
and instead of hastening to a place of safety, had
lingered to shadow the smaller craft, and if necessary
rescue her crew. When they reached the open space
between Ambrym and Malekula, he saw there was no
hope of reaching or entering the haven, Port Sandwich.
He shouted to the mate to return to Ambrym and
beach the cutter. It was then dusk. They never
saw the Consul again. She probably went down in
the black sands off Dip Point.
For himself, Rocco decided to ride out the storm in
the open. He did so successfully. His seamanship
was wonderful. All that night and all the next day
he never left the tiller. His crew, sheltering in odd
corners about the deck, might doze for a few minutes
occasionally, but for himself there was never a moment
of rest. Towards evening, when the wind had moder
ated, he gave the command to the mate, bidding him

156 The Conflict
keep her head to the big seas, and went below. For
a short time all went well. Then a sea struck the
Circe on one bow. She broached to, and in another
moment was on her side. The stone ballast shifted
and she sank. Rocco reached the deck just in time.
He secured a part of the hatch. The crew, escaping
the swirl and suction, recovered the floating oars.
Each succeeding sea threatened to engulf them, but
they maintained their hold, and were swept along by
the current towards Ambrym.
By nightfall they were approaching nearer and
nearer to their own island, and their hopes rose.
They were on the lee side and might effect a landing.
But the tide turned, and they were being carried away
again, to the west and into the darkness.
Through the long hours of the night, despite the
fierceness of the sea, they kept together — Rocco lashed
to the hatch, the boys astride their oars. They were
under a skilful captain ; and the arm and the voice
they so dreaded on land (for he had a temper like the
sea around them) was now their stay. Towards
morning they were carried past a projecting point,
or reef, on the coast of Malekula. Here the natives,
thinking they could reach the shore, declared their
intention of striking out for it.
" You will be drowned for certain."
"No, master; suppose we no try now we lose [be
lost]." They gave their oars to one lad who decided to
remain by Rocco and the mate. These kept together
and waited a better chance. Whether the others
reached land or not, the mate could not tell. He
thought not.
At daybreak the tide turned, and again they were

A Swim for Life 157
swept away from the land and towards Ambrym, in
the face of wind and wave. The buffeting must have
been terrible. The island steamer was due in these
waters, and they held on in hope. So fierce was the
sea that, though she passed them twice, they saw
nothing of her nor she of them, and when she
reached Ambrym she could not make the land. All
that Monday they were washed to and fro, and as
evening approached were again brought nearer and
nearer to the southern angle of Ambrym. At this
point the mate grew desperate, and suddenly struck
out for the land. He was swept ashore with his oar
somewhere to the south of Craig's Cove.
He had found shelter in one of the villages, and
now, having so far recovered, was hastening to Ranon
with the evil tidings.
But Rocco's son refused to give up hope, and
promised a large reward to the native who should
be first to bring news of his father's safety.
About a week had passed. Breakfast was over.
We were all busy putting iron on the new roof. An
exclamation caused me to look round. There were
two men and a little boy coming up the path from
the beach. We could hardly believe our eyes. It
was Rocco, our old friend Morin, and the latter's
little son.
Rocco was almost crying; his feelings overcame
him. He was gazing in astonishment at the change
around. I well remember his first words, as he ex
claimed in pigeon English —
" Epi, he green ! "
The islands to the south had escaped, and Epi was
still green ; Ambrym was bare and black.
" Have you had breakfast ? "

158 The Conflict
" No ; but that does not matter."
" Come along ! "
In a short time they were set down to a breakfast
of curried rice and fritters in the big hut.
I sat near the door, and we listened to their story.
The mate's account was substantially correct, but
Rocco resented the way he had suddenly deserted
him and the boy. After he left them they had been
swept along the south coast of the island, always too
far off to risk an attempt to get ashore. Again the
tide turned, and they were being carried back towards
Malekula. The boy was losing heart. At length,
as the darkness deepened, he cried out —
" Master, me finish. No good you stop look-out me."
" Hold on, Piti. I'm coming." He drew near to him.
" Here, you take the hatch and give me your oars."
" No, master. No good you do that. Then we
both die."
But Rocco, as we afterwards learned from another
source, shoved the hatch under him, and, loosening
the boy's loin-cloth, took a turn with it round his
chest below the arms, and through the iron ring, so
that he could not slip off. Then, with his own leather
belt — his clothes had long since been cast off — he
secured himself to the oars ; and, with the boy's
strap, attached the oars to the hatch. Should they
fall asleep or become unconscious, they would not
lose their supports nor become separated in the dark
ness. It was a pitchy night, and they were far from
land. Their lot was symbolic of the two races they repre
sented — breasting the billows of Time in the struggle
for existence. Suffering had revealed to them their
kinship and the secret of survival. United, they would

jbsr

THE SWIM FOR LIFE.

A Swim for Life 159
win ; divided, perish. This act of self-denial, and sym
pathy had nerved them to fresh effort —
" And hearts were brave again, and arms were strong."
How they lived through the long night Rocco could
not tell. They were numbed, body and mind. Some
where near the dawn they seemed to float in smooth
water, and their feet touched the sand. Hope revived
what life was left in them, and they waded ashore.
They were too stiff and weak to stand, and lay on the
beach at the water's edge. Scooping a hole with their
hands in the sand, they slaked their thirst with the
brackish water, and at once fell asleep. Not till the
sun's rays began to scorch did they wake — to find the
sun high in the heavens. Above them the land sloped
upwards, green and steep. Behind them lay the open
ocean. Not sure of their whereabouts, and fearful of
being discovered by savages, Rocco crept weakly along
the shore, hiding behind the rocks, and trying to dis
cover what island they were on. Suddenly he gave a
start. There was a savage on the high ground, sitting
on a rock, with a gun across his knees. The native
sat perfectly still, as if petrified. Probably he took the
naked white man for an apparition. Seeing this,
Rocco became reassured and called to him. The man
came down slowly and deliberately.
" Hullo, master ; what name [why] you walk about
all same ? "
" Ah, you one good fellow ? You been along Queens
land?" Even the French adopt pigeon English as a
means of communication.
" Yes."
" Salt water he kaikai [eat] calico belong me ; boat
all same."

160 The Conflict
" Eh ! " said the man in surprise ; then, grasping the
situation, he added, with a smile, " Plenty calico stop
along me. Very good you come, master ? "
Rocco demurred. This was not the garden of Eden,
and he hardly felt like facing a whole village in that
guise. So the man gave him his gun to defend himself,
and went off to get the articles of clothing he still kept
in his box. As he skipped up the slope a voice called
after him —
" Hai ! We two fellow plenty hungry."
"A' right!"
In a short time he was back again with food and
clothing. " They treated us right royally," said Rocco, " made
us welcome, and feasted us with pork and fowls and
oranges. It was Paama we were on. The tide had
carried us right out into the open ocean, but — by the
mercy of God — we were borne back again far enough
to touch the land! Three days later, Morin's boat
came along trading. And here we were. Good fellow,
Morin ! "
After breakfast he asked me to have a look at his
back. It was covered with sun and salt-water blisters
from the nape of his neck down to the back of his
knees. I was astonished at his physique. He was as
stout and muscular as a young bullock. He calculated
that they had been drifting about for thirty-six hours.
Doubtless it was his great strength and the warmth of
the sea-water that enabled him to sustain the boy and
to survive.
He did not stay long, but hastened homewards. He
rather feared the people in our neighbourhood, and was
feared in return. Once he camped in our boat-house,
and I noticed that himself and his men were armed to

THE HOSPITAL.

A Swim for Life 161
the teeth. It was easily explained. There was a skull
with holes through it hanging in one of the "mels"
on the mountain-side. It swung there before the eyes
of the men of Melbongan, and the gaping holes showed
the track of one of Rocco's bullets. The bushmen
would not forget !
A few weeks later starvation stared us in the face.
We took our old boat and went to Ranon, on the way
to Pentecost, seeking food. When Rocco understood,
he said —
" Don't. You will never come back. I can lend
you rice — if that will do ? "
" How much ? "
" Twelve bags."
"Thanks!" And he sent us home with the boat
filled with rice and yams.
Two years passed by, full of strange events, and we
were again in the heart of the cool season. At day
break a sail was descried a few miles away, and a
boat could be seen approaching. It was Rocco's new
schooner. All this time he had been a good friend to
us, and his door was ever open. But his end had
come ! The mate, a half-caste, with pale drawn face,
poured out his tale of sorrow. They had been anchored
near the bay on N.E. Santo, described in an earlier
chapter. The two wives of a Santo chief had
quarrelled, and at nightfall one of them joined the
recruits on board. In the morning some two hundred
people gathered on the beach, and Rocco put off for
more recruits. While he chaffered with the people, a
man stepped forward and offered him some sugar-cane.
He accepted it, and as he leaned over the stern to take
it, another man shot him through the chest at close
quarters. Rocco fell back into the boat. The bullet
L

1 62 The Conflict
which passed through him found lodgment in Piti's
knee. The people then fired on the crew with shot
and ball, wounding another man severely. They were
brought to us for help.
As for Rocco, his wound was fatal. He was taken
to the mission-station of the priests, and laid in their
best bed. In vain they supported his failing strength
with sips of wine, and strove to stanch the bleeding.
The wounded man was restless and full of wrath.
" D — n that scoundrel ! " he hissed, clenching his
fists. " Could I but get a grip of him  ! " The
blood rose in his throat and cut the sentence short.
" Brother, speak not so. Death is here ! " urged the
senior priest solemnly, as he applied another clean
towel. For a brief space there was silence in the room,
broken only by the ticking of the clock on the wall
and the heavy breathing of the sufferer. Meanwhile
the Brothers in turn went out to put on their cas
socks and bring in lighted candles. As the strong
man saw these preparations for his end, he broke down
completely, and the tears began to course down his
cheeks —
" God have mercy ! God have mercy ! " he sobbed.
" Son ! " said the priest commandingly, holding up
the crucifix before him, "behold thy Saviour! Thy
sins are forgiven thee ! "
In the afternoon he breathed his last, and was buried
beside the native church. A French man-o'-war pun
ished the people and arrested the offender. He was
found working in the mission -house, hoping to be
screened thereby. Hostility was aroused. The priests
had to flee. When, after the lapse of some months,

A Swim for Life 163
Rocco's son came with a heavy tombstone to cover the
grave, he was too late. The heathen had wreaked ven
geance on the dead. The body had been quartered
among the villages, the bones ground into arrow-
points, and the skull, set on a pole, subjected to the
utmost indignity.
Such was Rocco's end. Report had said he could be
cruel and vengeful, and this retribution may have been
his due. But for us the law of kindness was ever in
his mouth. He had always the cup of cold water to
offer, and much more that was grateful, because he
deemed " these little ones " true disciples. If such
were his motive, " he shall in no wise lose his reward,"
and that weak germ of faith shall yet find sustenance
unto life. Even if, as some may think, he deserved and
obtained the harder lot, may the " eternal punish
ment " 1 prove, as in the softer words of the original,
but an " age-long pruning," and the " fire," as in the
Gehenna of Jerusalem, a purifying flame.
" According to thy faith be it unto thee. Fare thee
well ! "
1 See Trench's ' N. T. Synonyms,' pp. 24, 25, and the remarks thereon
by Dr Cox in 'Salvator Mundi,' p. 140. Also Liddell and Scott's Lexicon.

164

CHAPTER VI.
The First Operation.
We had not been long on the island when I was called
upon for an exhibition of medical skill.
We were sitting at breakfast in the camp on the
beach. A number of men and lads came along in a
state of excitement. The Mai of Puluwuwa had sent
a message. A youth had died overnight, and Mai
wished me to come. Not knowing how much they
might mean by the word " dead," I went down to see.
Yes, the youth was dead, stark and cold. The chief,
Mal-Melun, was standing by, a look of puzzled wisdom
on his face, and a bunch of fuzzy roots in his hand.
I looked at him. He responded.
" I want you to diagnose the poisoner."
" Ah ! " Here was a chance of striking a blow at
their heathenism. The youth was beyond help, but
I might save the life of some innocent victim of their
superstitions. Mai held out the bunch of roots, and
intimated that in these the poisoner had brought the
death-dealing spirit. He had found them beside his
" war-war " at daybreak.
I knelt down beside the body, and with all due
gravity examined the eyes and mouth, and tapped
out the chest.

The First Operation 165
"No man or spirit killed him, Mai. He died of
pneumonia." " How ? What is that ? "
I explained. He had been over-heated in paddling
a canoe, and had probably caught a chill. They were
satisfied. There was no shooting.
My next patient was a pig — also dead. (A canny
people these !) I examined its throat. It had died
of a disease resembling diphtheria.
Thereafter I was called in to see Mal-Melun's
daughter — a fair and pretty girl with a Jewish cast of
features. A chiefs daughter, she knew it, and had
determined to lead her young husband a dance before
finally submitting to his authority. Her trouble was
soon diagnosed — hysteria of the naughty-child type.
She helped in the diagnosis by spitting out two doses
of medicine and spilling two pannikins of water, — and
they had to be brought a distance. As she was about
to repeat the performance, I doused her sharply with
the water, face and neck, and prescribed a good whip
ping. The remedy was effectual (it was enough to
mention it), and left no ill-will. Hers was the first
and last case of that kind.
One Sunday afternoon a clean witty fellow, called
Charlie, came along.
" Doctor, my nose he no good. He all same bad
pipe ; he no draw."
"You've got a cold, Charlie."
" I tink so. You got medicine belong smell ? "
I bethought me of the ammonia -bottle, and went
for it.
" Now, Charlie, take a good smell, — gently ! "
I was too late. He had applied his nose, and taken
a sniff like the snort of a horse. The effect was

1 66 The Conflict
magical. With an exclamation that made me feel a
sinner, he leaped into the air and dropped off the
gangway into the sand.
" Strong medicine, Charlie ? "
" My word ! "
But it was I who got the greater shock. I had no
idea they were so like their European brethren !
These were comical trifles, but I found it best to
take them all gravely. In each case a yam was
courteously presented as a kind of fee. It was the
same here as with medical men in civilisation. One
got more credit by trifles than by the hardest and
most skilful achievements of one's life. But the trifles
led the way to more serious work. We were summoned
to Naubu, the centre of heathenism at this end of the
island, and brought back with us, on a bush -made
stretcher adown the tracks, and round the coast in
the boat, a young man with a large empyaema. In
the presence of three of the bush chiefs it was aspir
ated, and a quantity of thick fluid abstracted. Opera
tion by lamp-light followed, with good results. The
amount of discharge that escaped from the wound was
astonishing. It must have half-filled his chest.
He did well. Within forty-eight hours he was able
to rise and walk about. For safety we transferred him
from the big hut, which was now used as a hospital,
to a cleaner place. But at nightfall he forced his way
out past his guards to sit in the chill evening breeze ;
and when he was discovered, was colder than if he had
been dipped in the sea. Next morning his condition
was so serious that his brother, who had come with
him for company, was sent to tell his relations. He,
instead of bringing help, fled to the hills, to hide with
fear among friends in the woods. However, we met

The First Operation 167
the patient's old father, and his uncle, a tall gaunt
savage, at the top of the valley. At their entreaty,
and to prevent mischief, which was already brewing,
the boat was soon on its way homeward with its dying
freight. Rounding Dip Point we were caught in a fierce
squall of wind and blinding rain. The boat was run
ashore; but the yellow water poured down upon us
from the cliffs overhead, and a sea was rising. We
were all drenched to the skin. For the sake of the
living, we had to turn back. But Manto, the patient,
protected by sail and umbrella, seemed better.
Towards evening a troop of young savages came
down the valley to carry him home. They were most
anxious that he should not die on this side of the
range, as they feared that shooting might follow.
Hoping to revive the flickering spark of life, we put
them off till morning. Through the long night we
nursed him as he lay on the white lime floor of our
temporary dining-room, screened from the draught
and warmed by the fire of a tinker's can. During the
midnight watches those two weird-looking savages, his
father and uncle, remained at his side, observing every
movement and commenting on — to them — the strange
objects around.
The morning (a Sunday) dawned and brought no
additional hope. Fain would I have kept him, but
the bearers had come again. Wrapped in blanket and
quilt and covered by an umbrella, the dying youth was
once more borne on mat and stretcher, by a band of
his fellows, up the steep acclivities and through the
damp woods to his home.
Monday morning came, and with it a presentiment
of danger. The only safe way among these people

1 68 The Conflict
is to take the bull quickly and boldly by the horns.
One pause, and all is lost. We must follow after
Manto and prevent bloodshed. But, when I called
for volunteers, only two lads were brave enough to
respond. These were Willie Bai, a seasoned Queens-
lander, and Saksar, a green youth from Wakon by the
sea. Mr Mansfield had to remain in charge.
As we stepped over the stile a vision of blue eyes
met mine, and a voice whispered, " I, too, would
come with you, if I weren't sure you would return
safe." In those days faith was young and sure !
Our path lay over the range and through a circuit
of eight villages on the plateau, all alarmed and all
armed. At the first village on the far side of the ridge
we heard that Manto was dead. I asked for a guide.
One young man, shamed out of his cowardice, stepped
forward. At a warning word from an elder, he drew
back again.
" Don't take him," said Willie. " Suppose we
die, there will be no fighting; nobody will need to
avenge us."
Farther on, the branch of a tree had been felled
across the track, blocking the way. It was another
warning ; and as we advanced beyond it I noticed that
the lips of both lads were quivering. Though dark-
skinned, both were pale, with a paleness like the
bloom on a black grape or a damson plum. To ad
vance thus would lead to disaster. So a halt was
called. For a few minutes we stood together on the
path and looked upward, to Him whose eye is every
where. Thereafter, to use their own phrase — Lo
mifar yah — " their hearts stood strong."
The fourth village was Manto's, and there, on a tree

The First Operation 169
before the door of the village " mel," hung the frame
of his stretcher, where it probably remains to this day.
Close by sat the brother, looking grave, with a musket
across his knees. We had a short talk. He was quite
communicative. " I hope they are not talking poison ? "
" Yes. They say you killed him. The chiefs saw
you put the tube in his side."
This was not reassuring. Moreover, Naubu, the
largest bush centre, whence the patient had in the
first place come, was now close at hand, and through
the woods the wind brought a voluminous sound of
wailing. Our steps turned thither ; and at length we emerged
suddenly from a thicket upon a woman, who, with
tears and wild cries, was crouched upon the ground,
casting dirt above her head. She was his mother.
I took her hand, and whispered a few words to her
about a brighter hope and a greater love, and bade
her seek to join him by-and-by. The tears for a
moment ceased to flow, and she was silent. But at
the assurance that her boy had been loved and cared
for by the hands of another as tender as her own,
her heart was touched again ; and, if I must confess
it, so were ours, so real was her grief. She was the
chief mourner.
Turning round, we saw behind us, to the right, the
body of Manto. It was set up on a high bier — the roof
of his hut. The hair and body were decorated, and
the face powdered with red ochre. In the open space
before it was a crowd of wailing savages, the women
in front kneeling, the men behind stooping or erect.
As a rule the chief mourners are whitewashed from
head to foot, and at a distance appear to be wearing

170 The Conflict
suits of grey. For a few moments the wailing ceased,
while, guided by the father, we came to the domicile
of Mal-Kon, the chief. He was closeted with another
chief. I insisted on the point that the death was not
due to poison ; the cause was a natural one, and they
had seen with their own eyes some of the vile fluid
that escaped. There should be no shooting. Manto's
father took up the same plea, and after a brief debate
this was agreed to.
Once clear of the village, we sped homeward at a
smart pace. It was already past noon, and as we
came to a fallen tree I said to Willie —
" Let us sit down now, and take our lunch."
" No, no, master ; it is better we should get home :
quick!" At the next village the chief was hastily erecting a
stockade. At the next again, there was no sign of life.
I whistled and cooeyed, but elicited no response. Yet
there was a pudding cooking over a fire. At another
village again all was still. Standing beside the " mel "
I called the name of the old chief. There was an un
expected response from a dark corner within. He and
another old soul like himself Were in hiding ; the young
men were all out, in arms. They were in a state of
alarm and fear, none knowing who were to be the
victims. At Lonamin, the last village of the circuit,
the men marvelled to see us alive, and relieved their
feelings by whistling. From them I gathered that
there had been really some danger.
But the day's work was not yet done. At the
station we received a warm welcome, for they, too,
had a story to tell.
Shortly after our departure a band of six young men,
of Manto's age and rank, armed with muskets, took up

The First Operation 171
a position at the stile above the sea. Somehow our
eyes were blind to the dangers around us. Perhaps
it was as well, for trust disarms suspicion. A Fanting
woman gave the necessary warning.
" Mr Mansfield, those men have come to shoot ! "
"What, Lizzie? Where?" She pointed to the
stile. He went down the path and spoke to them,
bidding them go home. They laughed in a half
hearted way, and one of them said —
" Mun-bwe ! " (by-and-by).
He thought there must be some mistake, and turned
back, leaving them there. But our own boys realised
the danger, and kept under cover. These youths had
really come to shoot one or more of them. They were
fired, partly with a desire for glory, partly with patriot
ism for the old heathen ways, and, in any case, would
save a whole skin for themselves. Keeping an eye
on them, Mansfield saw them kneel down behind the
hedge and wait a chance of firing together.
He went down a second time, and again bade them
go. They never budged. Then he looked over the
hedge, and taking a steady look at each one in turn,
and nodding as he recorded each mental note, he said —
"Now I know each one of you. I'll report you.
Just stay where you are a bit longer, and you will
be in trouble ! "
That was enough. They rose and fled, and were
followed by the jeers and cries of our own lads.
After a brief rest and some lunch, we prepared to go
after them, armed with pen, ink, and paper. Happily,
before we were quite ready the chief of their village
was found on the premises, speering for news. He
was at once pounced upon and brought into the house.
Our whole staff was then assembled.

172 The Conflict
" Now, Melun, we want the names of these boys ! "
Melun hesitated. But a voice from this corner and
from that refreshed his memory. He saw that nothing
was to be gained by simulating ignorance, and in a
few minutes we had the whole affair down in writing,
and the names attached. Then we proceeded up the
valley. As we went along, taking the chief with us, we
met three men on the track. I gave them a sharp
message to their chief, Warwar-Mal, to present himself
at the station without fail in the morning, adding, as
a sop to fetch him, " We understand he is our friend."
The chief had recently been summoned to Fanting
at midnight to carry home a dying child. We had
heard him open the gate ; and as he crossed the
grounds the little one expired in his arms. Therefore,
he reasoned, as the child died on the mission grounds,
the mission folk were to blame. Next day he re
appeared with three men armed with muskets, and
mixed with the others about the place. But we
trusted them so utterly, and, I may say, boldly, that
they lost heart, and excused themselves by saying
that they could not get a shot at our boys without
endangering the life of one of their friends.
At dusk we had the six offenders in a dell at the
head of the valley beside the village. They were
seated in a circle at the feet of the chiefs ; and one
by one they rose and put their mark — opposite their
names — to the confession of guilt and promise of
amendment, the chiefs becoming answerable for its
fulfilment. On more than one occasion afterwards
these lads wished to join the staff, but our numbers
were already too large.
Next morning Warwar-Mal duly appeared with an

The First Operation 173
escort. The three offenders were sent for, two of
whom came, the third was sick. A similar process
was gone through as on the previous day. A written
confession and retractation was solemnly signed in the
presence of all, being witnessed this time by two
of the local traders who had just arrived by boat.
And why these documents ? They were a prompt
and peaceful way of asserting our authority, and of
bringing offenders under the thumb of law and right.
Besides, at the back of all there was the man-o'-war,
their friend and ours — as much a providential gift,
and to be used, as the sunshine and fresh air, and
the cocoa-nuts ripening yellow over our heads.
The people rejoiced in the process, too, and made
their little jokes.
" Hai ! " cried Shilling-Pineapple (a nickname, — he
had once on a time demanded the Brisbane price,
and we had to tell him to " Go to Brisbane ! "), " come
down out of that ! " This to a man who was on the
carpenter's platform, innocently examining the tools.
" What now ? "
" Come down," with a twinkle in his eye, " or they'll
'paper' you too! "
This was said within hearing for our benefit.
The people were wrapped about with pallid fear as
with a shroud ; and they welcomed every new-made
rent in its ghostly folds.
Time and again there was to have been revenge with
bloodshed, and they seized their muskets in true swash
buckler style. But their wrath ended in vapourings,
and the threats expired with the bland and soothing
explanation, "We said, if the missionary were not here."
Times were changing.
Three weeks later our hearts were made right glad.

174 The Conflict
Manto's father and mother, wife, and friends had come
with loads of food and bright smiles, returning the
blanket, quilt, and umbrella. They wanted to see
and thank those who had been kind to their dead
boy. But from that date onward muskets were tabooed on
the station grounds, on pain of confiscation.

i75

CHAPTER VII.
Tatu: A Floweret of the Kingdom.
The men-o'-war were to serve us in a way we had not
even dreamed. A strange agent to use in promulgating
the Gospel of the Kingdom ! But in the providence of
God a strong navy is the bulwark of liberty and the
power that makes for peace. Its protecting arm is
thrown around the British missionary in all parts of
the globe, whether he cares to admit it or not. To-day
it is one of the powers ordained of God; and as such
we were permitted to use it, and need make no apology
for so doing.
There was commotion at the mission-gate. A party
of bushmen from the plateau had brought a sick man
down the valley for operation. The patient's village
was too far away to be visited daily, and much per
suasion had been required to induce them to come.
At length, guided by Meri-Naim, a quiet little man
from Lonamin, they braved the danger. At the gate
they learned that a chief at the head of the valley had
just died. Instantly they turned and fled homeward
by the bushmen's track ; but they were too late.
The dying chief had called his four brothers round
him : taking a gun rivet of brass from the lobe of his
ear, he handed it to the eldest, and said —

176 The Conflict
" Mok-mok, the young chief of Lonamin, has robbed
me in our dealings, as you know, of a pig. Now, by
this charm, he robs me of my life. It is enough. You
know what to do."
At a point above the defile, where the rocks rise high
and the ferns almost meet overhead, the four young
men lay in ambush. Meri-Naim was the first to pass,
hurrying silently and stealthily homeward. A man of
Lonamin, too ! Suddenly from out the green wall the
four guns discharged their contents. Part of his left
shoulder was blown away ; and, with the blood stream
ing and his arm dangling, the poor fellow flew up the
perpendicular steep towards his home.
The bushmen repaired to their village in great wrath,
armed themselves to the teeth, and, with muskets at
full cock, came down to the station in a body. They
had sufficient self-control to pass the offending village
without attacking it, until they had confronted the
missionary, which they did with these words —
" Doctor, your word is bad ! You assured us that
the road was safe. We came. Now look ! these
people shoot. Suppose you bring a man-o'-war and
punish them, good ! If not, we fight."
" Ah ! " I said with some disgust, " the heart of man-
Ambrym is hard, hard as these stones, and black,
very black. We have not come here to punish and
to fight, but to teach you to put away your muskets,
and forgive your enemies, and live in peace."
"No, master," was the reply, "that talk no good
belong man-Ambrym ; all same water. Suppose you
no punish them, we fight. Meantime we watch."
With that they disappeared into the woods again.
A hush fell on the valley. The road was closed.
Men went about stealthily, and the more exposed

Tatu: A Floweret of the Kingdom 177
tracks were avoided. The chiefs were to assemble
to discuss the outrage and to prevent a repetition,
but when the appointed time came they remained in
their villages.
Mr Mansfield went up and brought Meri-Naim down.
He was a good patient, and progressed well. But,
fearing poison and hearing whispered threats, he fled
home at dead of night. He was brought down a
second time, and some friends with him for company.
One of these was Tatu.
Word was sent to the offenders to come with their
chiefs to the station on the following Monday morning,
in order to arrange an amicable settlement. I had no
intention of calling in the services of a man-o'-war, for,
as a rule, commanders do not interpose in affairs that
are intertribal. However, when the Monday morning
came, H.M.S. Tauranga steamed round the point and
dropped anchor in the fairway. A few minutes later
we were seated in the captain's cabin listening to his
request. " We are giving you but a brief call this time," he
said; "only half an hour. In truth, we are seeking a
supply of fowls and vegetables."
I was sorry we could not oblige him. The fact was,
the vegetables of civilisation had refused to take kindly
to the volcanic ash, and the attempt to grow them
ended in failure.1 Fowls, too, were few and scarce.
We had something good to offer — kids ; but at that
time we had not ourselves learned to appreciate them
as an article of diet. After explaining matters, I
said —
"We, too, have a request to make, Captain."
" Yes ! What do you want ? "
1 This applies only to Ambrym ; they grow well on most of the islands.
M

178 The Conflict
" A detachment of marines."
He looked up with a smile of astonishment.
The case was explained to him.
" But you know we do not interfere in purely tribal
affairs." " This is more than a tribal affair. It threatens to
close the road to the interior, may lead to bloodshed,
and may endanger the mission."
" Well, is there any danger of my men being in
volved in a fight ? "
" None. By helping us you will, in fact, check all
fighting." He was quiet for a few minutes, and then said
quietly —
" Very well."
Within half an hour the mission boat was leading
the way through the reef shorewards, followed by two
boats flying the white ensign and manned by the sailors,
or marines, in white uniforms. One of our party went
on ahead to gather the people together, and to prepare
them for what was to follow. Half an hour later Mr
Mansfield guided Captain Lang and the lieutenant
with the body of seamen up the valley to the rendez
vous. The captain took his seat on a big log in the
centre of the village ; the men stood to arms with
bayonets fixed; and the one-eyed chief with the
offenders sat on the ground in the midst. A senior
teacher (Willie Bai) interpreted. The captain spoke
very quietly, bidding them listen to the new teaching,
cease from fighting, and make some reparation to the
people whom they had injured. As Captain Lang has
since lost his life in the China seas, I may freely quote
this sentence from the diary describing him, —
" A very affable man, with most courteous and win-

Tatu: A Floweret of the Kingdom 179
ning manner, but with all the firmness and dignity of
a commander." Thus, indeed, we found all the commanders of our
British warships whom it was our good fortune to
meet in these islands.
The sly old chief evidently thought so too. After
we had gone, he hastened to construct a letter of the
twigs and coloured leaves proper to his rank, expressive
of his respect and containing a promise of obedience.
He was down on the beach close upon our heels, and,
as the captain stepped into his boat, presented it in
person. It was received, and kept as a memento.
Two days later the chiefs of the two villages met ;
pigs were exchanged, likewise green leaves, and a
paper was signed by representatives of both sides,
ending the strife and promising to do all in their
power to preserve peace.
But this was only part of our gain. The other and
better part was Tatu. I have been tempted to linger
over his story — and not merely because of its pathos.
His effort and its fate are typical of the lot of many
among the rank and file of native teachers, whose
record is too often forgotten, if not despised.
He was a shy, gentle lad, with very dark eyes and
shining white teeth. After Meri-Naim had recovered
from his wound, and was able to return home, Tatu
continued with us. He had lost his fear of poison,
and had found a new affection.
One evening, after tea, we were examining the results
of the day's efforts. This time it was the newly erected
posts and wall-plates (rough enough to be sure, and
of poles) of the native church. Tatu was keenly in
terested, and in an interval of silence ventured to make
some remarks which arrested my attention. His eyes

180 The Conflict
were sparkling, and there was a brightness in his face
that of itself made one look and listen.
" What is that Tatu is saying ? "
" He says he is going to build a church in Lonamin
and become the teacher, and visit all the villages
round." Such in truth was the lad's newly-formed purpose
(he was only about sixteen), and he set about it with
all the energy of which he was capable. The purpose
became an all-absorbing passion.
Thereupon Tatu took his place with the other lads
in training. We were working on industrial lines,
and the amount of manual labour to be got through
was great. They were engaged to work, and were
housed, fed, clothed, and paid a fair wage. We hoped
that while they were learning to handle spade and
oar, saw and brace, the paint-brush and the level,
they would also be influenced by teaching and ex
ample, and, developing a love for higher things,
would become teachers and evangelists to their fellow-
islanders. They were learning also to nurse, to dress
wounds, to watch at the bedside, to teach the lower
classes in school, and to take a minor part in the ser
vices. All through our history we had classes in
English at noon, and in the native tongues by lamp
light. Again and again school work was organised
and set on foot, half the day being devoted to it,
only to be rudely upset by a fresh disaster. The pen
had to be laid aside once more, and the hammer and
saw taken up again.
Tatu was a slow scholar : not that he lacked intelli
gence and grip,— indeed he grasped ideas more rapidly
than his fellows, — but being used to the free, natural life
of the woods, he found it almost impossible to harness

Tatu: A Floweret of the Kingdom 181
the faculties down to the routine of school work. Yet
he quickly mastered the hymns, prayers, and passages
in his primer, absorbing the ideas to impart them again
to his young companions and fellow villagers.
So shy and demure was he that the other lads were
inclined to make a butt of him. Yet, when he did
make a retort, in mother wit he surpassed them all.
For the Gospel does not destroy the spirit of fun, even
in black boys. He was pure-hearted, and as sensitive
to evil as the mimosa to the touch of a rude finger.
During our absence for a year in England and the
Colonies, Tatu remained on the station with the other
lads, in charge of the senior teachers. But not for
long. He was soon gone back to his beloved Lonamin.
We thought at first it had been due to fear of poison.
Long afterwards we found that he had disapproved
of some things the boys had been doing, and felt more
at peace alone.
Every Sunday morning he was away early, accom
panied by one or two of the older ones and carrying a
picture roll, to hold a service among his people. After
his baptism he could not rest till he had permission to
build a church. He had chosen Peter as his baptismal
name; and truly, it suited him. For with a whole
heart he had left all to follow the track of Him whose
"blessed feet were nailed, for our advantage, on the
bitter cross."
Doubtless as he passed through the woods or ex
plored in the bush, he had already chosen and selected
the poles and saplings that were suitable for posts and
rafters. He had also picked a good site beside the
track at the entrance to the village, and had got per
mission from the owner, a sympathiser, to build on it.
But this energy and enthusiasm began to evoke opposi-

1 82 The Conflict
tion. The chiefs here, as elsewhere, were strongly
conservative. They were not disposed to be converted
in a body and at the instance of this girlish and crack-
brained youth. For so they regarded him. They
liked the missionaries, and were glad of the open road
to the sea, and of the tribal peace and freedom from
fear ; but they liked mission and missionary best at
a distance. Religious toleration was a new-fangled
notion, and they would none of it.
It was at this point we had always to step in and
exercise firmness. And we did so once and again for
Peter -Tatu and on behalf of his young followers.
Tatu I still prefer to call him.
So, one hot afternoon, a small party of us might
have been seen slowly climbing the mountain wall,
shaded by the clinging growth from the glare of the
sun. We were going up to the plateau to buy the land
on which the church was built. Our light load con
sisted of calico and tobacco. Should these fail we
would tempt the chiefs with gold. As we ascended I
overheard the boys joking in their own tongue at
Tatu's expense.
"Ha! ha!" laughed one of them, "did you note
Peter's collar?"
" Ay, did I ; why does he not invest in some soap ? "
"Why? Because water and bushmen are not
related." It was quite true. The bushmen do not often ven
ture down to the sea, and a bath was possibly the last
thing they would think of when there. But the salt
water folk had nothing to boast of. They might swim
and dive for clams and turtle, but not for the pleasure
of a wash. Towels are matters of training and of
luxury, and without them a salt-water bath under the

Tatu: A Floweret of the Kingdom 183
tropical sun is a very sticky affair. It left the skin in
a sore condition, and in a short time blacker than ever.
So they, like the bushmen, prefer to rub themselves
down with a bunch of green leaves, or to cleanse and
polish the skin with cocoa-nut oil.
Tatu could stand, and perhaps deserved, a little
chaffing. The writer of " Pacific Tales " might make
copy out of such a rough diamond, but we who knew
him knew also the light that burned and sparkled
unseen. The polish would come, from the Master's
own hand.
He and his companions were already exposed to a
mild degree of persecution. So far it was the only
footing we had as yet secured upon the plateau ; and
from it we had hoped to throw a chain of stations
across the island. Hence our visit that afternoon to
secure both church and land. We called the chiefs
together; they were slow to come, and had evidently
agreed to oppose us. However, by gentle yet firm
insistence we got them to sell the site and the gardens
around. It was a general rule with us to encourage the
people to give the land and provide the framework.
On that condition we paid for the plaited thatch and
the labour of thatching, in coloured prints and tobacco.
Even the most hostile could not resist the chance of
a good smoke. So Tatu's bitterest enemies helped to
plait, if not to sew on, the thatch. One old scoundrel
brought in and threw down his bundles, in the heart
of which it was well known there was a lot of bad leaf.
As he turned to go, he muttered villainously, so that
Tatu should hear of it —
" If he gives me away, I'll shut his eye and burn
him out."

1 84 The Conflict
But Tatu was not to be intimidated, and quietly
reported the matter. He would be faithful at all cost.
So every man had to open his bundles and count out
the contents, and was treated with strict impartiality,
though in a kindly way so as to spare the lad any
avoidable ill-will.
But though one of Tatu's gentle nature shrank from
the hostile looks and abuse of the men, he braved all
threats, and went forward to his purpose quietly and
brightly, with love for them in his heart and a con
viction that he was doing the right.
Some of the men had watched the building go up
with jealous eyes. Should it interfere with their
heathen practices they had a sure remedy. They had
only to shake the head and mutter the word "aple"
(poison, magic). It was an ominous threat, and
equivalent to " He will be poisoned ! "
It struck terror into the heart of the uninitiated and
fearful, and made the flesh of all but the strongest
creep. For the chiefs took care that their " poison "
should work, if not by poisoning the food or through
nervous shock, then by secret violence — a species of
thuggism. Those who were nervous or superstitious collapsed
at once. A Christian native returned from Queensland
with his wife and family. He was one such fearsome
fellow, and was found at nightfall throwing stones
into the bush to frighten away the evil spirits. Mai
quickly read Jimmy's character, and tried his hand on
him in the dusk by spitting on him, or by throwing
some small object and striking him. Jimmy, believing
that he was "poisoned," dashed off to the sea and
plunged in, clothes and all, to wash off the evil effects
of the charm. But he felt worse, and no wonder.

Tatu: A Floweret of the Kingdom 185
For the cold water made him shiver the more.
Then he rushed up to the house, his teeth chattering,
and himself half-demented.
" What did Mai throw at you ? "
" I don't know ; but he poisoned me ! "
" Nonsense ! Mai hasn't the power. Don't be
silly." He was taken to the kitchen fire, rubbed, put into
warm clothing, and a hot stimulating drink ad
ministered, with the words, " There, Jimmy, that has
cured you ! "
Forthwith he was better, and his life saved. Con
fidence begot confidence. Otherwise he would have
been dead before morning.
Mai excused his own failure by saying that those
who had been to Queensland had become immune.
Tatu was built of tougher metal. They might
procure a hair from his head, a shred of his clothing,
or a scrap of the food he had been eating, and roll
these up in leaves, and hang the tiny, mysterious
parcels to their " makis," where they dangled in the
wind before the eyes of all. They might place their
death-dealing stones where, as he passed, his shadow
would fall on them, and might expect the spirits of
the stones to cause him to wither and die. He feared
not their evil machinations, and by an act of sheer
faith he defied their "aple." Sitting on his doorstep
in the evening light, he spelled the words on his
favourite page —
" The Lord is my shepherd " —
or, as it reads in his own tongue,
" Jehovah keeps looking, to protect me.''

1 86 The Conflict
"This Yafu (Master)," he said to himself, " is greater
than Mok - mok, or Salsal - Melun, or any Mai on
Ambrym." Again, when the darkness had settled close around
their dwellings, instead of attending the "sing-sing"
in the village and joining in the songs and refrains,
which were not all of them too clean, he might have
been found with two or three younger companions,
seated round the fire in his own hut, teaching them
and singing with them such words as these —
"Jesus says to us, ' Shine your reddest light
Like a glowing firestick in the blackest night.1
Dark is every village, therefore we must shine,
You in your hut's corner, and I in mine.''
One Sunday morning we had occasion to pass
through his village early, and entered the church un
expectedly as he was in the midst of his address.
Here verily was a prophet, writhing and twisting in
his seat with the violence of his delivery, as he unfolded
to his little congregation the meaning of a large
Scripture picture. There was a small gathering of
about twenty souls, youths (his companions), little
boys, and two or three women, including his mother.
But what most impressed one was Tatu's intensity.
When we rose to sing the last hymn, he was choir and
organ in one, and swept the others along by the force
and rush of his own voice. They were singing the
chorus — " Yes, Jesus loves me ;
Yes, Jesus loves me."
As we listened, I heard a voice far back through the
centuries saying —
"What went ye out for to see? A reed shaken

Tatu: A Floweret of the Kingdom 187
with the wind ? A prophet ? Yea, I say unto you,
and more than a prophet — my messenger ! "
Such he truly was, and had got the length of visiting
the villages around and speaking with the young folk,
and such older ones as would listen.
The last note of the hymn had died away, and Tatu,
standing at the desk, raised his arms to pronounce
the benediction, but before he had reached the Amen,
one's medical ears detected a rift in the lute, or
shall I say, a rent in the bellows. Although he
knew it not, the dreaded "aple" was already at
work. There was a hoarseness of voice and a shortness of
breath that indicated a loss of lung power, and possibly
incipient disease. The strain was telling. To display
calmness and utter fearlessness in the face of known
hostility and danger, as Tatu was doing, costs an
heroic expenditure of nervous energy. And he had
been doing this for many months.
It was in vain that he was urged, even commanded,
to remain at the head station where he might be better
fed and free from care. After a day or two, he was
back to his charge again.
At length he was found to be ill. The dread bacillus
had found a lodgment in his weakened frame. In
this hothouse climate, once the disease gets a hold
it makes short work of its victim. A year is about the
limit. For three months Tatu had the cosiest corner
in the hospital ; but rapid improvement was followed
by steady decline. It was the hot season ; the air
was loaded with moisture ; the best remedies were
powerless to combat the climate. At Lonamin op
position was keen. As soon as the fatal nature of his
illness was known, his enemies began to glory. They

1 88 The Conflict
took the credit to themselves, and their "aple" be
came the more dreadworthy.
Suddenly the young man who occupied Tatu's hut,
and took care of the church and garden, became ill
and died. In panic the young congregation dispersed
and fled. Why ? It was whispered from one to the
other —
" Gulgul-Naim has poisoned him ! "
So probably he and his followers had, in a way we
shall have occasion to describe. Fear became acute,
and their young hearts were filled with terror.
But this was Tatu's opportunity. He would return
to his post ; and one day, unobserved, he quietly left
the hospital and went home. Looking upon his wan
face and wasted limbs, his friends saw but ample proof
of the " aple " of their foes. His mother wept and
pleaded with him.
" O my Tatu, come back to the village ; perhaps
they will cease to poison you."
" Mother, they cannot poison me. It is Jehovah's
will." " I cannot understand your Jehovah ! " she replied,
through her tears.
" It will all come right, mother. He loves us."
He essayed to go, as before, from village to village,
carrying a large umbrella, which he had procured from
Sydney, to protect him from the sickening heat of the
sun. By degrees his strength failed him, and his
visits ceased.
His companions had deserted him through fear, and
he lived alone, a solitary, dying youth, but still at his
post. Would that we knew more of his thoughts.
Brave to the last, his faith must have been rewarded
at some point in his brief career with a clear vision

"BRAVE TO THE LAST."

Tatu: A Floweret of the Kingdom 189
and an undoubted call. Otherwise he could not have
endured. Now and again a known voice would summon him
to the gate, where he would find a few cocoa-nuts or
plantains dropped inside the stile. Or his mother
came with a slice of baked pudding, or the end of a
roast yam. Some Sundays he was cheered by a visit
from the station, when his little store of necessaries
would be replenished. But often during those dark,
eerie nights, and many they were, his only company
was the swish of the wind through the palms, or the
glow of a dying ember.
His church long since fell into decay. Its site is
now probably hidden by a fast -growing thicket of
cotton scrub, the haunt of the snake and the midnight
bat. Yet, if the will be taken for the deed, his life
cannot be judged a failure.
" The daisy, by the shadow that it casts,
Protects the lingering dew-drop from the sun."
And Tatu, too, carried a heart of gold, and wore a
crown of white innocence. He was but a floweret of
the kingdom crushed at dawn beneath the iron hoof
of circumstance.

i go

CHAPTER VIII.
A Fresh Disaster.
"Some dice?"
" You should say ' please.' "
" Some dice, please, Mister McDowl ? "
And the two tiny brown hands were held up again,
one of them empty, the other holding a little posy of
wild flowers gathered in the bush. The hands be
longed to a mite of a maid about two feet high, but
old enough to wear a short fringe about the waist.
She was appealing to Mr McDowall at the door of
the storeroom. He twisted a square of paper into
the old-fashioned shape of an extinguisher, filled it
with rice, and clapped a biscuit on top, sending the
wee, wan face away wreathed in smiles. Then a little
boy moved forward and presented a cocoa-nut shell
filled with such treasures of the beach — tiny sea-shells
— as he could gather. This time the plea was for
" biskit." The people had not yet recovered from their losses
by the hurricane. They were not exactly starving,
for the bush yielded various substitutes to live upon.
We found them making puddings of fern leaves and
hard green berries. Such famine diet lacked in nutri
ment, especially for the children. They were the

A Fresh Disaster 191
principal sufferers, and showed their want by their
languid movements, thin bodies, and sunken eyes.
They were not likely to die of starvation, but their
weak state made them liable to disease.
A host of friends in the Colonies had risen to our
assistance and had sent an abundant supply of biscuit
and rice. But those who could had to bring or do
something in return for the food. We wished them
to value what they received. And there was to be
no waste.
But there was another hungry horde in the bush,
rapidly becoming foodless— the rats, black and brown.
They also discovered that " there was corn in Egypt,"
and down they, too, came to get "some dice," ex
pecting to profit by this unwonted display of gen
erosity. The traps were kept going; but the
rats were our undoing. They discovered a stray
match. Thirteen months to an hour had passed since the
cyclone, when, in the darkest, deadest hour of the
night, we were awakened by the sound of crackling,
the smell of smoke, and a glare on the wall. A
moment's glance showed that the store and dispensary
were on fire, a broad sheet of flame extending from
floor to roof. The alarm was given, and the cry of
" Fire ! Fire ! " rang round the station. With naked,
bruised feet, in part dress and in undress, the whole
staff flew to the rescue, some to the tanks and some
to the rooms — to check the flames, and to save all
that was possible. The tanks were soon surrounded
by fire, and the flames mocked our efforts to stay
their progress. Within half an hour the whole place
was a pyramid of flame. So intense was the heat
that metal fittings fused like glass and the tree-tops

192 The Conflict
were set alight. Within an hour the year's labour,
the weary toil of so many months, had gone up in
smoke. When the morning dawned there remained but a
few ashes and charred posts, and a heap of blackened
curled up iron. Not a biscuit was left, not a grain
of rice, not a particle of food except a few burnt
bananas ; and not a dish but the dog's at the back
door, and that had again to do honourable service.
The whole premises, and with them the medical,
hospital, surgical, trade, clothing, and household
equipments, were gone. Our beds and a few books
and sticks of furniture had been saved ; and with these
we took refuge in the unfinished church, and in the
big hut again.
For a short time we were thrown upon the gener
osity and gratitude of the traders and natives for the
means of subsistence ; and right willingly did they
come to our aid. Learning the truth, Mai came
hurrying across the grounds with a bunch of plantains
and a yam. Cromarty returned the biscuits and tea
we had given him the previous evening. The traders
opened a fund to help to replace the surgical appli
ances. Two stout mission-houses had arrived, but
the greater part of the paints, ironmongery, and glass
had perished in the flames.
It was a " sair dunt," — enough to make one reel.
But before day broke our plans were formed anew.
We had neither the strength nor the means to begin
right away. We must return home, face the Com
mittee, reassure them and our supporters, and return
with a new staff of helpers and with materials to lay
an adequate foundation. Should success attend our
way, the fire had been a godsend.

A Fresh Disaster 193
But how were we to leave our boys in safety? It
took us a full fortnight to plan, and to secure every
thing, that nothing should miscarry in our absence.
It was well that this was done, and done thoroughly,
for we could not have dreamed of all that was destined
to happen.
Albert, whom we had met on board the May, had
been head teacher for about a year. He was a sterling
fellow, wise in word and deed, and among the boys
was as " an apple of gold in a basket of silver." The
praise is not too lavish. But he was so kind-hearted
and trustful that we feared lest he might be overborne
by the craftiness of some of the people. So he,
seconded by brave Willie-Bai, was placed in charge
of one part only — the boys and the work. From the
Company's steamer we had secured a fresh supply
of trade goods and tobacco. For in the early stages
of the Mission it was necessary to keep a case of the
"weed." In return for food the heathen will accept
for pay nothing else in reason.
These with the cash-box were given to Taffie, a
teacher from the island of Nguna. Now Taffie,
though not a Welshman, had about him all the wit
and romance of a Celt. Kind, and honest to the
marrow, he was liked by all, but could be as " slim "
as any Boer. He was the last man to "buy a pig
in a poke," and, as a proof of this feature of his char
acter, had secured as his wife one of the handsomest
lasses in the islands.
Such men as these are the basis of success in all
Missions. The boys would find plenty to keep them occupied,
in gathering coral and firewood to burn lime for found
ations, in keeping the grounds in order, tending the
N

194 The Conflict •
goats and live-stock, foraging for food, and in learning
and teaching.
The fortnight was about up, and the steamer due,
when a fortunate incident occurred. About sunset
some canoes arrived from Ranon and beyond. In
the tool-house the burned knives, hoes, and axes were
being distributed. The teachers could make and fit
handles for themselves, and would find the tools useful.
We were interrupted by a shout from the bank, above
the sea, and a boy rushed up breathless with excite
ment. A canoe had been stolen by men from a village
at some distance along the shore. The Mai of this
place had placed a taboo on the beach and on the
sea. He had sent me a letter in leaf and twig, de
manding payment because some of our girls had walked
along the beach to a service at his village. We had
let all the heathen know that such a claim was an
absurdity. No chief, be he ever so great, could taboo
the roads or common tracks. The theft meant that
he was going to enforce a toll from the canoes passing
at sea. Doubtless he had come to the conclusion that
such calamities as had happened could only befall
those whose gods were weak, and their power waning.
As we strode along the sand towards the village in
the gathering dusk, I must confess to feeling somewhat
perturbed. This high-handed theft boded ill to our
boys when left to themselves. We could see no sign
of the canoe ; and as we climbed up to the village
above, our indignation fairly blazed up, even to reck
lessness. Thank heaven that it did so, for it proved
our most effective weapon. We demanded to know
where Mai was, and at the same moment caught a
glimpse of his figure disappearing among the huts.
Pursuing him from point to point, we at last came up

A Fresh Disaster 195
to him seated in the darkness of the " mel " among
the men. Gripped by the shoulders and shaken, he
became frightened. In response to the question —
" What have you done this for ? Where is the canoe ?
You'll taboo the sun next ! " — he apologised and
promised reparation, and called to his men to deliver
up the canoe. He was warned that if he dared to
interfere with the boys in our absence, a man-o'-war
would be at his heels. That was enough. With all
due humility — be it said to his praise — he sent several
youths to take the canoe back to the station at once.
They had smashed up the outrigger and had removed
the paddles. Next morning a number of the older
men came along in sober mood, bringing the requisite
materials. Conversing in undertones, they quietly
repaired the canoe, and left it in first-class order.
Thus, not without some misgivings, we had to leave
our little flock, and commended them to the care of
the Chief Shepherd. They had friends not a few, but
were surrounded by some who were as wolves, as
time quickly proved. Nor could they be induced, by
black or by white, to depart from their instructions.
One day a missionary arrived in his boat to borrow
some solder for house -building. The boys thought
that he did not look like a missionary. Why, I never
learned. And it was some time before Albert could
be induced to comply. At length the solder was
reluctantly weighed out and a receipt exacted.
On the beach at Aneityum we met Mr Mansfield.
He had returned in the mail steamer. Feeling
thoroughly fit, and aware of our dire need of help, he
had come back at his own risk. He had given himself,
body and soul, to the work, and could not remain at
home. He afterwards lost the sight in one eye, while

196 The Conflict
chipping some cast steel, and so carries in the flesh
to-day his credentials of service. But he had to go
back with us to the Colonies. We needed him to tour
among the churches, and make known the wants of
the Mission, a task he ably fulfilled.
Meanwhile the boys on Ambrym were passing
through the fire. They took greater care of the
Mission property than if it had been their own. Day
after day they plied their tasks, so as to have some
thing to show for their labour. The months passed
rapidly. The steamer at each visit brought them a
fresh supply of stores, and occasionally a letter. When
the supply ran short and funds were low, they clubbed
together and purchased necessaries out of their private
savings. Albert indeed spent his all.
This must have been due to native food becoming
scarce. They were too scrupulously honest to kill a
kid or eat a fowl. The natives are intensely fond of
fish, but are poor fishermen. On moonlight nights
when the tide is low, the whole village, young and old,
will be down on the reef with flaring torches, attract
ing and catching fish of various kinds.
On such a night the little band lost one of the
strongest and brightest of their number, Tekon, a lad
of splendid physique. In one of the pools he saw a
mottled brown shell moving. The fish was trying to
escape, and, to secure the prey, Tekon plunged in his
hand and grasped it. The shell-fish, one of the Conus
family about four inches long, retaliated, stinging him
on the point of the big finger of the left hand. He
took little notice of the prick at first; but as the
tingling increased, he began to suck it. Then he
turned giddy.
" Bong ! Bong ! Come. I'm sick."

'ONE OF THE BRIGHTEST.'

A Fresh Disaster 197
Bong-Naim called Willie, and the three of them
went shorewards. Before they reached the top of
the bank, Tekon's legs were paralysed. The last few
steps he had to be carried. Albert, who was keeping
his eye upon the place, went out to meet them. They
carried the helpless lad indoors and laid him on a
mat beside the fire. Learning the cause of his strange
illness, Albert emptied the basket and examined the
shell and the fish inside. By this time Tekon's hands
and arms had lost all power. Then it dawned upon
his anxious comrades that he was going to die. They
knelt around him, and each in turn prayed all that
he knew. And from one after the other the cry went
up— " God, save our brother ! "
But there was no answer — no improvement that
they could see — and the paralysis was already creeping
upon the dying lad's throat. Then it occurred to
Willie that Tekon had not confessed, and possibly
this was a judgment for some offence. Taking upon
himself the responsibility of confessor, he asked —
" Tekon, tell us, have you been doing anything
bad?" "No! no!" came the faint reply; "God loves me,
is calling me ! "
This, then, was the answer.
It is a beautiful word, the native word for love, the
one he used. Literally translated, it means, " God's
heart keeps calling, calling for me." And "the love
of God" in the native is "the heart-callings of God."
Another most picturesque phrase is locked up in their
word for " Good-bye." It is literally, " Fire in the
sky again to you," that is to say " Another dawn,"
and is equivalent to our Old English " Good-morrow ! "

198 The Conflict
Those were Tekon's last words, for he had already
passed into the " eternal morrow." He had breathed
his last within an hour, and was gone before some of
his companions knew him to be ill.
The news spread like wildfire. For a short time
fear and consternation reigned. Then Albert and
Willie realised their responsibility. Chow, the China
man, at request, came to their assistance. We had
made coffins for our own Christian lads and for the
traders to give them a decent burial, and now were
repaid. Chow turned to at once and made the coffin
for his lesser brother — and refused payment.
With sunrise the heathen began to gather; and
when the time came for the burial, the crowd, angry
and armed, was so great — to use their own words —
as to darken the grounds and hide the grass.
The chief bade the women wail, but Albert at once
forbade it.
" Tekon was a Christian. You must not cry for him.
This ground belongs to the Missionary, and we can't
let you wail here."
Then threats were made, and Albert and Willie
were warned to be off — flee to their own side of the
Island. Said Willie —
" No ! We stop here. We are responsible to our
master for everything here. We'll die first. Then,
perhaps, you may carry us home ! "
By this time Albert had opened his book.
" Let us sing ! " And on quavering voices the strains
arose, of — " There is a happy land
Far, far away ! " 1

1 Translated by Rev. Wm. or Chas. Murray.

A Fresh Disaster 199
Before the brief service had ceased, the wrath of the
heathen had subsided. When the coffin was lifted
they all quietly followed it to the sea-shore. Each
one as they filed past dropped a croton leaf or a white
flower into the open grave, their silent farewell, and
the gathering dispersed.
But night after night the senior lads kept guard as
sentries to prevent a possible surprise; and so they
continued till our return.

200

CHAPTER IX.
The Volcano Awakes.
Though so far removed in time and space from classic
Greece, once and again a fact would occur to link our
thoughts with the distant and cultured past.
To the imagination of the Greeks, wherever a vol
cano was found, there Vulcan had his forge. To the
mind of these natives, the hidden fires were being
stirred by the spirit of some great chief, one of the
only gods, or demi-gods, they knew. For seven years
past Vulcan's anvil here had been silent and his work
shop closed. We could have imagined the giant was
dead, had not occasional shocks warned us that he
was but turning in his sleep. At length he raised
his head.
Would he, too, object to our presence on Ambrym ?
We were not long kept in doubt.
Towards midnight on the 15th October 1894 the
shocks began in rapid succession, being repeated every
two minutes. The whole island trembled and plunged
like a frightened horse. So severe were they that once
the inter-island steamer, upwards of thirty miles away,
seemed to come to a stand-still. The huts and trees
rocked like a ship at sea. The people in terror rushed
into the densest scrub, and hid themselves in the dark-

The Volcano awakes 201
ness. In Taffie's own expressive words — " Ambrym,
he dance ! "
In the little village of Foluk, far up among the hills,
the people in trepidation tumbled out of their huts.
To their amazement explosions were taking place right
around them. Masses of glowing metal were being
hurled up the hillsides and flying through the bush
in all directions, as they described it, " all the same
as pigeons." Then they saw a river of fire, fifty feet
high, rolling towards them. It was a flow of molten
lava that had burst up through the ground. The re
ports were deafening. The villagers fled. Two
women with two little children rushed to the nearest
great tree and hid in its folds. They were buried in
the flood, which rushed onward towards the sea. The
dust began to fall. A great black cloud rose up in
the centre of the island and spread till at length it
had blotted out the rising sun, and had wrapped all
in darkness again.
That same evening the officers of H.M.S Dart, the
most useful and best known little warship in Pacific
waters, had finally completed their soundings and
surveys of the coast. They found the island to be
twenty-four miles long from east to west, and seven
teen wide. The centre is occupied by a circle of
mountains whose summits range from 2000 feet to
nearly 4000 feet in height. The irregular slopes, carved
into a multitude of hills, ridges, and valleys, are densely
wooded, and green to the water's edge. Within the
circle of mountains there remained a large space still
to be accounted for. From one side of this unknown
space there rose the lip of a great crater, which,
viewed from the north-west, stood up against the
bright sky as an enormous grey dome.

202 The Conflict
The Dart had anchored for the night at Dip Point.
About midnight the watch observed the heavy
clouds rising above the crater and spreading over
the island, and then, beneath them, a faint red
glow. At dawn the ship proceeded eastward along the
shore. The sun just risen was showing red as through
a fog. Another lava stream, its course traceable by
rising columns of dense black smoke, was seen to be
coming down to the sea, and the ship was stopped
to watch its progress. " It wound through the hills
like a great fiery serpent. Presently," writes the
Commander, "the head of the stream appeared, a
red-hot, rapidly moving, molten mass, some 20 or 30
yards wide, with lumps of slag tossing about on the
surface." Where the "serpent" of fire glided into
the sea, a dense pillar of steam rose straight up to a
height 4000 feet. Enormous bubbles lifted the water
to 50 and 100 feet, and burst violently outward like
the explosions of heavy submarine mines. For
safety the warship had to " move on." She picked
up several canoes and towed them clear of danger
towards Dip Point. The natives wanted to come
aboard and stay. They were fast learning to ap
preciate the friendship of the man - o' - war. After
much persuasion they consented to paddle away to
the Mission station.
" You come back, Captain ? "
" I'll come again to-night."
" No gammon ? "
" No gammon ! "
The labour ship Lochiel was there. Her boats at
once pulled shorewards to gain recruits.
" Come along, boys ! " shouted the decoy. " Come

'WHERE THE 'SERPENT' OF FIRE GLIDED INTO .THE SEA."

The Volcano awakes 203
along Queensland. Missionary, he go. Hell fire he
catch you now ! "
" No fear ! " was the reply. " We fellow got
man-o'-war." Already they were confident, and proud of the new
relationship. And, though matters grew worse all
day, the dust and obscurity increasing, the noise of
explosions and burning continuous and alarming, land
slips occurring, and the ground in a constant state of
tremor and shifting under their feet, the boats pulled
up and down shore and the decoy called in vain.
They won two recruits only. Our boys, indeed, must
have played their parts bravely — as bravely, perhaps,
as the sentry at the gate of Pompeii.
At 3 p.m., just as the flames began to show over
the gap at the head of the valley, the Dart reappeared.
She found the natives assembled in groups on the
beach in a condition of terror, the women and children
crying and huddled up together. The boats were sent
in, and over 80 embarked with their boxes and belong
ings. Doubtless the whole population would have
come, but that they feared "poison" more than fire.
If they remained where they were, they might be
roasted, but they would not be eaten. Under the
wing of the war-ship no such fate could befall them.
But the memory of recent events on the south coast
was too fresh ; so the villagers remained, chained by
fear each to their own few acres.
The others, most of whom were from Fanting and
our own station, were landed at Ranon and housed
in the school. Four days later they were returned
to the station, and, as the dangers were subsiding,
the officers proceeded to explore.
Two points are of special interest. They found

204 The Conflict
that there is a fissure in the earth's crust extending
the whole length of the island. Placed upon the
line of this fissure are the lava springs and the craters,
living and dead. Again, on climbing over a gap in
the coastal range formed by the circle of mountains,
they found themselves to be looking down on a plain
of ashes — the hitherto unknown space — five to six
miles in width, " probably the remains of an enormous
crater, and the basal wreck of a mountain which must
have been some 10,000 feet high." Possibly its wreck
age forms a large part of the ashen soil of the rest of
the island. At the western edge of the plain two
more recent craters have formed, Marum and Benbow.
Each is a mile wide, and the walls fall sheer down
from 800 to over 2000 feet to the floors inside.
Over the hills and hillocks of loose ashes and
cinders the officers climbed and stumbled, — at times
sinking up to the waist in bogs of cinder slush, — to
reach Benbow, the crater that was now active. Hav
ing at last reached the lip, on the lower side, " a
narrow knife-edge of ash," they looked right down
on the floor of the crater. In it there were two
holes or fissures, from one of which issued white ash
and steam", from the other black dust and smoke,
the latter rising to great heights in the sky, even to
15,000 and 26,000 feet. From far below could be
heard a roaring like a heavy surf breaking on the
shore. Volleys of stones shot through the smoke
and kept up a roll as of musketry. The molten lava
had welled up as high as the floor of the crater,
over 2000 feet above the level of the sea. Then the
great weight of the column had ruptured the earth
miles away among the hills outside and below.
Hence the springs of lava at Foluk and elsewhere.

The Volcano awakes 205
The stream from Foluk had flowed to the west and
formed a burning lake a mile wide. Thus the crater
had been relieved of its contents, and fiercer destruc
tion averted.
Dust fell almost continuously till the trees drooped
with its weight. The western end of the island be
came of a uniform light -slate colour. The white
wash survey marks on the rocks along the coast dis
appeared in the general greyness. Viewed from the
west, the sides of Marum and Benbow appeared in
the sunshine to be snow-clad, and the cliffs of Dip
Point showed perfectly white.1
At the end of six weeks the Dart steamed away
to Sydney to avoid the hurricane season. The crater
was still belching forth its contents with undiminished
activity. On the beach the captain said good-bye to the
natives, who stood around with quiet, sad faces.
Krong, the principal guide, was almost dissolved to
tears. " Captain, what is your name ? "
"Cust. Why?"
" I will keep it. I will never forget you ! My
name is Krong. Will you take it and keep it ? "
" I will."
" You won't forget ? "
" I won't. Good-bye."
" Taking them all round," writes the captain, " the
natives of Ambrym were about the most friendly we
have come across."
Questioned as to the cause of this trouble — the
1 For the substance and much of the wording of this chapter I am
indebted to the report prepared by Commander H. E. Purey-Cust, R.N.,
of H.M.S. Dart, and published by the Admiralty.

206 The Conflict
eruption — the native philosophers, like their cousins
in more favoured lands, found a woman at the bottom.
A chief had stolen the wife of his neighbour on the
opposite side of the island. The fire was set agoing
by the injured man in retaliation. Frightened at the
result of his own act, the latter threw some small
pigs into the blow-holes of the lava springs. These
were spat out again. The native Vulcan would ac
cept nothing less than tuskers, and with these he was
satisfied. A native wag gave a better reason. He had seen
dynamite explode, and knew, evidently, what a rocket
could effect, and a compliment also. So he volun
teered an explanation, doubtless with a roguish twinkle,
keeping his eye on the captain the while —
" Captain man-o'-war put mashes [matches] along
ground ! " The people saw the flash of wit, and
laughed, and the story spread. They were pleased
to do the captain honour, for the compliment was
well deserved.

207

CHAPTER X.
The Wisdom and Morals of the Savage.
In Edinburgh the news was flashed to us that our
island had become a smoking cinder-heap.
" From here," wrote Will, " Ambrym, when we can
see it, is like what Abraham saw when he looked
towards Sodom. It seems like a great basin, the
whole of which is belching out smoke — black murky
clouds, and blue-black dust and ashes."
The physical comparison with Sodom may suggest
also a measure of moral depravity which some have
been all too ready to attribute to the warm-blooded
inhabitants of these islands.
It is true that the moral disease of those Cities of
the Plain escaped the destruction of fire and brimstone
that was rained upon them, and travelled westward,
even to England. We have yet to learn that it found
its way to these virgin islands of the Pacific — unless
recently imported in the diseased imagination and
depraved manners of some stray European or Asiatic.
To look upon these people in their natural state, one
could easily imagine their inward thoughts to corre
spond with their outward appearance. The com
mander of the Dart reported that although the lava
was still hot beneath their feet, and the ashes over

208 The Conflict
two feet deep around them, the natives, coated and
beclouded with the black dust, were already rebuilding
their huts, and seemed not the least put out by their
hideous surroundings. I have seen the photograph of
a group of these men in a rocky dell o'erhung by trees.
As the sun's rays smote upon them in the gloom, they
resembled that " troop of wandering souls " whom
Dante met on the floor of hell; who upon the
stranger — " They their eyebrows bent
As tailor old at needle's eye doth frown," —
part of those "herds of naked spirits" suffering on the
burning sands for sins against nature. But there the
likeness ended. Such sins, despite appearances, are,
we have reason to believe, unknown to them.
Their morals are truly a hothouse growth. Even as
children they have the passions of men and women
without the self-control. Under a domestic system
which allows the chiefs a monopoly of wives of all
ages, and the youths and lads none, illicit commerce
is the natural outcome. Their own laws are strict.
The guilty one, if caught, would be summarily shot,
the whole village turning out with rifles to hunt him.
As a rule he escapes and hides till their wrath has
cooled. Then his friends mediate, and a fine is paid.
With no check but the natural law which is dimly
written upon their untrained consciences, and thrown
together in the woods and under the moonlight
shadows, in scant raiment clad, they may, and often
do, offend and fall.
But " where there is no law there is no sin," and the
depravity, though real, is of a lighter degree. To the
higher teaching their natures readily respond; and
under its dew-like influences their virtues may blossom

Wisdom and Morals of the Savage 209
in such degree as it is the pleasant design of these
pages to record.
The whole world lay between us, and months must
elapse before we could reach them, yet were we not
long in completing the necessary preparations, and in
posting back over land and sea to those who were so
eagerly looking for our return.
About nine o'clock on a Saturday night, with silent
whistle, we steamed quietly and swiftly round Dip
Point, hoping to give them a surprise. We were not
due for another two weeks. As the night was dark,
the steamer made a wide circle round the Point, and
by the light of the stars glided softly up to the anchor
age. But our measures were vain ! They were all on
the beach, with fires alight. As the boat drew near and
voices were recognised, the dogs barked, and the little
crowd, with a joyful shout, rushed to the water's edge.
Even in the darkness we could discern how well the
grounds had been cared for, and noted the straight-
trimmed paths and well -stocked garden. The grass
was luxurious; but, with their usual over-carefulness,
the poor goats were kept outside, eyeing it longingly,
to be consoled by the explanation, " Master must see
it first ! "
The live - stock had greatly increased. The four
tanks, standing solitary, were nevertheless full of
water which had been caught bucket by bucket.
The houses, milk-white within, were as fresh and
dry as the air without, and scrupulously clean. Them
selves were likewise. In short, everything was in
capital order, even to the rickety fences.
This was the best of all welcomes. Truly they had
tried their utmost to please, — as they did on a later
occasion, when every detail was found in place :
o

210 The Conflict
"Even the door-handles had an extra shine; the
little ornaments were filled with flowers; kettle boil
ing ; milk in the pantry ; and the almanac arranged to
month, day, and date, — but they were a day ahead ! " 1
Such faithfulness deserved recognition ; nor did we
return to them empty-handed. A bale of red blankets
and several cases of clothing were among the many
presents we had brought for them. As Christianity is
introduced, and commerce opens up the islands to the
daylight of civilisation, clothing becomes an absolute
necessity — garments, simple and coloured, that will
neither rob the native of his natural grace nor trans
form him into a guy. Unfortunately, in the matter of
dress, the islanders are inordinately prone to imitate the
white man. Among the gifts which came to hand
were two scarlet military jackets that had belonged to
some disbanded corps. They were new, and too good
to burn, and might prove useful on a chill night. As
red is a colour dear to the native's heart, we presented
them to Mai and his brother. Alas, the chiefs, obedient
to the dictates of vanity, proceeded to display their new
regalia elsewhere than in the firelight.
There was a sad side to it all. Sitting on the stile
in the dark, listening for the plash of the oars as the
boat returned with its successive loads, we heard the
story of the volcano's activity and of Tekon's death.
But the dust had ceased to fall. When morning
dawned we found that wind and rain had swept away
the ashes, and left all as bright and beautiful as ever.
The evidences remained in a thin layer of cement on
ridge and roof, and in a new stratum of grey soil. We
climbed over the gap in the hills behind, and penetrated
to the farthest point we had been before. We crossed
the lake of lava twice, and had a peep at the crater.
1 Letter from Mrs Mansfield.

Wisdom and Morals of the Savage 211
The lava, still hot, looked like streams and fields of
piled up masses of coke. We could trace its course by
the silvery clouds lying low among the hills. The
people were living on the banks and actually in the
forks of the lava-streams, and their faces broadened
into smiles as they saw and welcomed us. On the
Sabbath we had good gatherings at the main station,
and the reports from the out-stations were very encour
aging. The work had not gone back in our absence.
To us all Ambrym scenes and Ambrym faces, despite
the drawbacks, were as cordials. God seemed to be
calling us back to the old site, — central, healthy, ready,
the immediate dangers past, — and to bid our Churches
not abandon these sheep to the wolf and the wilder
ness, but to lead them now into His fold.
Once and again since the eruption, the volcano has
flamed and roared, and the fall of ashes has been likened
to a "black snowstorm."1 So dense was it as to shut
out sea and sky, and veil the sun. Like thick dark
ness, it came in at every crack and crevice, and the
lamps had to be lighted in the forenoon. But in a few
hours the wind may change, and all is bright again.
Observing the care that had been taken of every
thing in our absence, a keen-eyed matron exclaimed
with surprise — " The faithfulness of these boys and
girls is astonishing ! "
It surprised ourselves, and led us to seek to know
what mental and moral equipment they have in their
natural state and to determine the foundations on
which the native character is built.
So one day I said to Saran (afterwards my pundit,
David)— " Saran, who does man - Ambrym say made the
world ? " 1 Letter from Mrs Mansfield.

212 The Conflict
" Parakulkul, an old man who lived long ago."
To them the whole world is limited to the visible
horizon, and their own island is, of course, the hub
of the universe. All over Ambrym they attribute
the creation of the world and its people to this
ancient patriarch.
" And who sends the rain and the fruitful seasons ? "
" Man-Ambrym can do that. He has that power in
himself." Such was their rooted belief. The simplicity of the
uninitiated is perfect. Storms, fires, and droughts were
with them a matter of practical politics. One day we
heard the sound of voices and speechifying in the
woods. On going to see the cause, we found, in an
open space, a gathering of the chiefs and leading
men. In the centre was a paddle stuck upright in
the ground, probably representing water, and a branch
of the blood-tree to represent the yam season, for which
rain was so much needed. To the paddle was tied a
withering frond of the cocoa-nut palm, while beside it,
on the ground, lay two or three small green nuts
which had fallen unripe. These and the frond were
significant of the severe drought through which we
were passing. Mai had convened the chiefs to dis
cover who was causing it. One by one the old men
went up to the paddle, laid hold of the palm leaf,
and spoke, disavowing any participation in the cause.
It was amusing to listen to some of the more timid
souls — one old man in particular.
" My father had that power," he said with quavering
voice, " but he never showed me."
At length a young fellow, Baikon of Lolima, walked
boldly up to the paddle and took hold of the leaf. I
knew him to be a born liar.

Wisdom and Morals of the Savage 213
" I have caused the drought," he said, " and I can
bring the rain ! "
It was a bold stroke for prestige and gain. He
was handed the shrivelled nuts, and told to go and
make rain at once. If he succeeded, he would demand
fees in pigs from all around. If he failed, he would
excuse himself on the ground that they had not paid
him fees sufficient in advance. In any case he was
a man to be feared.
I thought it was time for the missionary to "chip
in." I had taken the measure of Baikon, and de
nounced him straightway as a liar and a fraud ; and
the meeting closed with the Lord's Prayer, beseeching
the Father to send us rain and fruitful seasons, and
to "give us each day our daily bread."
As for Baikon, he was gone into the secrecy of the
woods to try his hand.
In many of the islands the chiefs possess strangely
shaped stones to which they attribute remarkable
powers — of making the yams grow large, the cocoa-
nuts to flourish, and the pigs to multiply. To some
they ascribe destructive powers. A spirit, sometimes
a ghost, is supposed to exercise its powers in con
nection with the stone ; and the possessors of such
stones have great mana which they will employ on
behalf of others in return for fees.
Codrington tells us that, speaking generally, the
religion of the Solomon Islands is concerned with
ghosts, that of the Banks Islands and New Hebrides
with spirits (an order of invisible beings). A man
lights upon a stone shaped like a bread-fruit. From
its shape he assumes there must be a spirit associated
with it. If, on laying it at the root of one of his trees,
a good crop follows, that proves to his mind its con-

214 The Conflict
nection with a spirit that can influence the trees for
good. Thereupon it becomes a source of wealth,
and in return for payment he will let the stones
belonging to other men be near his to receive some
of its mana.
This belief in, and commerce with, spirits and ghosts
will be found to comprise whatever religion is to be
found among these islanders. There are no orders of
priests, magicians, or medicine-men. Possibly every
chief professes to know how to approach some ghost
or spirit, and in return for payment made to the spirit,
but in reality to himself, will invoke the services of the
spirit. The spirit does not dwell in the stone possessed
by the chief, but is associated with it and may be near
at hand. In these beliefs and occult practices some
of the chiefs are apparently quite sincere ; others again
are consciously employing deceit.
The number of such stones and spirits is legion.
The stone figured on the opposite page belonged to
Mal-Yafu, the brother of Mal-Pangkumu, and was
obtained by Mr Mansfield through the chief's son.
It is hard and brittle, apparently of volcanic origin,
yet it is very heavy, and unlike the pumice seen on
Ambrym. The natives are thought by ethnologists
to have been in these islands since about 1200 A.D.,
and as the stone has been handed down from genera
tion to generation, it may possibly have been brought
hither by those who came first. Its supposed powers
were remarkable. If carried in the hand it would
jump when danger is near, although nothing could
be seen. At night it would whistle to give warning.
If its owner lost his way, and held it in both hands,
it would turn over in the direction he was to go. It
had power to get hot or cold, and to shine as if

^^^^^0<

^fl§ ^/

B^^L '^P*r

5
^H Kr
i t & ft,
1
g* ^H^
A SPIRIT STONE.
'We did not know about God."— page 215.
Wisdom and Morals of the Savage 215
aglow with light, and to cause and cure sickness.
The man who first found the stone must have ob
served its weirdly human appearance, and by a little
polishing and carving increased the likeness.
Albert had been commissioned to procure informa
tion about the native ideas and beliefs. One day he
followed me up the steps to the mission-house rather
excitedly. " Doctor, I have a lesson for you ! "
"A lesson? What has gone wrong?"
He laughed, and explained. He had been fulfilling
his commission. Indeed, he had a whole walletful
of " lessons." So I sat down beside him to receive
instruction, and will share it with the reader.
Lesson I. Of God.
" We did not know about God before the white men
came and taught us. Nor did we know of the exist
ence of the Devil till some of the boys returned from
Queensland and told us. But we always believed
in the existence of two great spirits, whom we call
Vyu (or Vi). There is Vyu-Yotab, the Spirit of
Light, who lives and rules ' on top ' [above], and
Vyu-Bungbung, the Spirit of Darkness, who rules on
earth. Everything up ' on top ' is called ' vyu ' [super
human, divine]. White men are called ' vyu ' too, be
cause our fathers thought they were spirits, and that
they had come down from the sky."
Lesson II. The Warring of the Two Spirits.
" What do Yotab and Bungbung do ? "
"They concern themselves with the affairs of men.

216 The Conflict
Vyu-Yotab wanted to let men walk on leaves over
the sea ; but Vyu-Bungbung said ' No ; I will teach
them how to make a canoe.' Vyu-Yotab says that
men found fire in the soft wood of the yanyano tree.
Vyu-Bungbung says 'Not at all; they could only
get it by rubbing two pieces of wood together.' Then
Vyu-Yotab wanted men when they die to live again
in this world ; to die — ' shuffle off this mortal coil ' —
like the snake, which, having lost his old skin, lives
again, and renews his life. But Vyu-Bungbung says
' No ; I teach them when they die to make a hole
in the ground and be buried ; and not live again.' "
Lesson III. Of Creation.
" What David told you about Parakulkul is right.
We believed that all over Ambrym. He is not a Vyu;
he is the spirit of a great chief, a dead ancestor."
Lesson IV. Of Evolution, and the Fall.
" Where did the first men come from ? "
" Vyu-Yotab says that originally all men were four-
footed animals, and walked on all-fours. One of these
tried to build a house, but he slipped, and made a hole
in the roof, and his legs fell through. So Vyu-Yotab
said he would not do.
"Then he told another animal to try — an animal
like a pig, but with a face like a man's. He suc
ceeded ; so Vyu - Yotab bade him thereafter walk
upright. " But Vyu-Bungbung says, ' That was not the case
at all. All men walked upright from the beginning.
And the lazy ones, who would not work, came to walk

Wisdom and Morals of the Savage 217
on all-fours, and degenerated into animals — like pigs
and cows and goats — and got faces like them.' " 1

Lesson V. Of Incorruption.
" There is an old woman in the sky to keep watch
and prevent even a fly from going up and pitching
there."2 " Suppose a fly (the blue - bottle) did go up and
alight there, what then ? "
" If a fly pitched there, bringing corruption, every
thing 'on top' — earth and stones and trees — would
fall on men and kill them."
It is usual for the older women in turn to keep
watch thus . beside the dead and dying. They provide
themselves with a bunch of dry rushes or rustling
twigs, with which they keep ward and beat off the
noxious intruder until the burial.
Lesson VI. Of Immortality.
" When men die they go down to the world of
spirits. When a chief dies he goes down with all
his bravery of ornament ; but it is only the shadow
or appearance of these things that are on him. The
1 Compare Milton, following classic lore, and the belief of the ancients —
" Circe,
The daughter of the Sun, whose charmed cup
Whoever tasted lost his upright shape,
And downward fell into a grovelling swine.
. . . Their human count'nance
The express resemblance of the gods, is changed
Into some brutish form of wolf or bear,
Or ounce or tiger, hog, or bearded goat."
2 May we not find here a germ of the saying of St John? — "And there
shall in no wise enter into it" (the Holy City) "anything that defileth "
(Rev. xxi. 27).

218 The Conflict
world below is like this world, only it is shadowy and
ghostly. There the spirits of men live always." 1

Lesson VII. Of Worship and Sacrifice.
" Don't your people pray to the ghosts ? "
" No ; we don't worship, nor do we pray to anything.
When a man is in trouble he calls on the spirit of his
father or friend, and that spirit may come from the
lower world to help him. At the feast for the dead,
his • nenna ' [image or ' maki '] may be painted
afresh, and pigs killed before it, out of respect to his
memory and to show that we are not forgetting him.
But we don't worship, or sacrifice to anything."
" But who sends the rain, and the sunshine, and
makes the yam grow well ? "
" Man-Ambrym has that power in himself. Suppose
the ground is dry and the fruit-trees wither, the chiefs
1 Dr Codrington's account of the beliefs in the islands sounds very
Dantesque : —
"The ghosts below hear the news from new -coming ghosts. When a
ghost first descends to the lower world, he waits outside the ghostly village
to recover strength. There, according to one account, they congregate at
the entrance, some at play, some weeping at having just become aware of
their condition. Descents of the living are not uncommon. To deceive the
ghosts who are on guard, the living man makes his body smell of death by
rubbing it with a rank-smelling solution. A man wished to visit his dead
wife, and went to a medium. The latter made the man smell like the dead,
and then as a ghost went down with him as guide. (Compare Dante with
Virgil's ghost.) The ghosts detected the smell of the upper world, and tried
them with dead men's bones — to see if they could rattle them as ghosts do,
by one, by two, by three. They passed the test ; and found the woman. The
husband tried to drag her away, but her hand came off.
' ' So disguised, a woman went down to find her brother, and found him.
He cautioned her not to eat anything there, and she returned. This story
resembles that of the Greek goddess, Proserpine, who, because she had
plucked and tasted a pomegranate in the Elysian fields, could not return
to earth again. Jupiter afterwards modified the sentence."
See ' Melanesians : Anthropology and Folklore,' to chap. xv. of which I
am indebted for the latter part of Lesson VIII.

Wisdom and Morals of the Savage 219
talk among themselves and they find out what man
or woman has the power to make rain. Then they
pay him (or her) pigs, and he takes the grass or leaf
and disappears with it in secret and is not seen.
Suppose the pay is too small, the rain will not come.
They must pay him more pigs."
" But what do the chiefs do with these stones ?
Do they not pray to them and give offerings ? "
"No; they do not think them gods. They all the
same as when you look at the glass (barometer), and
you speak, ' Wind, it will blow,' and ' Rain, it is
coming.' You think that glass all the same as
God? No!"
According to Albert and to the other boys around
us, each stone would " speak true " to the chief who
owned it, and was as an obedient instrument in help
ing him in his special power. Apparently they had
not been initiated into the mysteries of the vyu or
minor spirits who were supposed by the chiefs to be
associated with the stones.
" But what about these offerings or payments ? "
"They are kept by the chiefs for themselves."
" Then do your people never pray to the spirits and
ghosts ? "
" Some men can call up the spirits of the dead ; and
when a strong man dies, or is poisoned, and goes into
the volcano and stirs it up, the people pay him pigs
to quiet him by throwing them into the crater. But
they do not worship, nor do they sacrifice to ghosts
or spirits."
Thus the natives whilst they admit these beliefs
and superstitious practices, deny to them the terms
worship and sacrifice. Yet such practices are surely
primary steps in that direction.

220 The Conflict
Lesson VIII. Of Rewards and Punishments.
" Now, Albert, which virtue is of highest count
among your people ? "
" Generosity. If a man is liberal towards his friends
during life; if, when he gets a child, for instance, he
gives pigs to his relations and friends — on the mother's
side of the house as well as on his own — he will go
to the good place and be saved. But the pigs and
feasts a man gives in order to get a big name and
rise in rank don't count. There is no merit in doing
that." "Then you believe in a good place and a bad
place ? "
" Oh, yes ! A man may never reach the good place
at all. If he has been mean, or has committed adul
tery, or been a thief, or has killed any one by poison,
or without due cause, but specially if he has been
mean, there will be evil spirits waiting for his soul
on the track ; and they will catch him with hooks
and long poles, and pull him back, and thrust him
down into the bad place. In that dark region he has
to grub like an outcast pig for the coarsest food, and
eat wind, and live on refuse and worse. Miserable,
restless, and malignant, his ghost may wander back
to earth and haunt the graves and the woods, to do
evil to men.
" In the region of the blessed, there are gardens and
plenty of good food, and a chief is a chief still, and
the souls dance and feast and sing together. But no
man wants to die, for the life is dim and shadowy."
" What comes of those who die young ? "
"On islands away to the north1 people say there
1 Mota, for instance.

Wisdom and Morals of the Savage 221
is a special place for those who die simple and harm
less. And when the young die, who have not lived
to see and rejoice in the flower of their age, they go
to the pleasantest place of all — where flowers abound,
and red-leaved shrubs, and scented plants, and scarlet
blooms ; and the village is bright, and there is day and
night, and throngs are dancing and singing. But no
one longs to die, for the life is hollow and unreal."
" Who told you all this ? "
" The women most say this, and the mothers most
of all. They grieve, and they think much of those
who die young, and they esteem most of all those
who are shot for them, who pay the price of death
and die on their account.
" For none would choose to die ! "

222

CHAPTER XL
"Red Hearts."
" Rather slim, but not a badly-made savage."
Such was the result of a swift mental survey. He
was standing on the track in the shadow cast by the
bush, and was facing us in an attitude of easy dignity.
His hands played with a small bow and some blunt-
headed arrows, one of which was stretched across the
string to shoot a pigeon for the evening meal.
" It's George ! " exclaimed one of the boys behind.
That seemed doubtful. He was dressed as a pure
savage would be, an armlet of plaited leaf above the
left elbow, and a broad belt (about eight inches wide)
of polished bark round the waist. With a skin almost
black, frizzly hair that rose straight up from the brow,
and a fair sprinkling of pock-marks that disfigured his
plain but attractive face, he stood quite still till we
were close up to him.
" Are you George ? "
" Yes, master," with a quick pleasant smile.
We shook hands. He was a man who had "haz
arded his life" for the cause, and would do so again.
" How is this, George ? " I asked, glancing swiftly,
almost imperceptibly, at him from his knees to his
crown.

"Red Hearts" 223
He understood, and with a faint blush which did not
spoil his easy manner, he said —
" Me 'shamed, master. My clothes — he close up
finish. Only one shirt and trousers stop now; me
keep him along Sunday."
Sufficient reason surely. When one came to know
him better, no doubt remained but that he had shared
his clothes with others, as he did all else he possessed.
"That's all right, George. We are greatly pleased
to meet you. Come along and show us your house."
He led us, not to his own little hut, but to the "mel"
in the centre of the village, where the chiefs and upper
ranks of men assemble. Evidently he was on good
terms with the leading men. Indeed, it was hard to
see how any one could cherish any ill-will towards
such a gentle, sweet-natured soul.
In the " mel " some men had been painting a
mammoth lizard, with a long lithe tail ; possibly it
was meant for a crocodile, some of which have been
seen in the Banks Islands, though none are found
in the New Hebrides. It was compounded of wood
and matting, or palm spathes, and coated on the
outside with a composition. Clay there is none.
The young boys will climb trees, and chase and
catch snakes (by the throat or nape) as long as
themselves, as they are not poisonous ; but a lizard
is something abhorrent, and they will fly from con
tact with it. In response to questions they told us
that this one was to be used at a "sing-sing" to
frighten the women and young folks.
In a short time George returned clothed — in his
" one shirt and trousers." He then conducted us out
of the village to a secluded clearing on the hillside:
overlooking the sea, where we saw a grass hut with

224 The Conflict
upright walls and gables. It was his " chapel." One
could hardly give it another name, for it had a
preacher's desk at one end, and was duly seated.
The doors were securely padlocked, and the " boys "
by their demeanour on entering made it quite apparent
that they considered themselves " in church."
Here I heard his brief history. He had been to
Queensland, and, working there on a sugar plantation,
had come under the influence of the young lady
mentioned in a previous chapter. In the course of
time he was converted and baptised; and as soon as
his period of service was completed, he returned to
Ambrym, determined at all costs to proclaim the good
news in his island home.
George was doubtless listened to readily at first by
old and young, for they would be eager to hear his
experiences and learn anything new. But as soon as
the chiefs grasped the nature of the truths he taught,
and understood what might follow — of loss to them
selves in prestige and authority — they frowned upon
him and forbade his teaching. But the young people
clung to him ; and as for George, he proceeded to
build a church. Then the chiefs became angry — with
an anger that never slept : in their own figurative
words, their " hearts were red all the time." Their
rank and influence had been attained by the thrift and
scheming of a lifetime, and they would not lightly
suffer their ghostly secrets to be exposed and their
mysteries profaned. On islands away to the north,
after the introduction of Christianity, the old men
have been known to sit down together and weep over
the profanation and their loss of power and privilege.
As the church-building grew each day to be a more
living fact, the young people became more and more

"Red Hearts" 225
fearful and perplexed. One young man was already
fondly attached to his teacher, and shadowed him from
day to day. At last he spoke out.
" George," he said, " you must not build this place ! "
" Why ? "
"They," indicating the chiefs, "say they will poison
us if we listen, and kill you if you build."
" But," said George, in his low, distinct voice which
it was hard to resist, " our Master says we must not
fear what men can do unto us."
The youth was puzzled, and his head drooped. He
turned on his heel and walked away.
At night he returned to the attack.
" George," he pleaded, " how can these things be
true if they work such ill ? "
George was silent.
"The chiefs say your book is not true — for them.
They say that white men are white, and black men
black. We are not all the same. Our food is not
the same ; our tongue is not the same ; our skin is
different. Your book may be good for white men,
it is not good for us."
Still George spoke not ; he was gazing into the fire.
" How can that book be good ? It brings so much
pain and strife ! Before, we were happy and at peace ;
now, we are distressed and full of fear. Our fathers
are angry. Their hearts are red!"
George continued to hold his peace while the young
man was exhausting his arguments.
" If you will build this place, they will kill you.
Then who will be our friend? We shall lose you
altogether, and who will tell us good things ? What
shall we do ? O George, speak ! "
George placed his hand on the youth's shoulder and

226 The Conflict
pressed it firmly. " Go to bed," he said huskily, "and
sleep to-night. To-morrow I will tell you."
There was not much sleep for either of them that
night. The youth did sleep, but he could not rest.
To follow George meant death — to himself or to one
or more of his younger companions. In his dreams he
saw the angry faces of the chiefs ; he heard the wailing
of the women — they were weeping over a lifeless form.
He drew near to look — it was the disfigured body of
his friend. Between him and the setting sun a crimson
croton hung over the coral wall of the chiefs war-war,
every leaf a heart aglow with fire. Seized with terror,
he rushed down towards the sea, and hid in the long
grass. Such, we know, was the dread the chiefs inspired;
and such we can imagine in these young souls was the
nightmare it gave rise to. As for George, he lay still
in prayer, praying again and yet again for light. And
at length light was given — and peace. He had found
a plan. Next morning the two men met beside the half-built
church. We always found George as humble as he was gentle.
And he may have thought within himself that he was
here alone and only one, and it was hardly fair to sac
rifice these young souls and they still beset with doubt.
So when the young man drew near, he said to him —
" I shall stop the building."
" Ah, I am glad. I thought you would."
" But on one condition. Go you to Queensland and
prove my words. If they be false, I shall not ask you
to believe. If they be true, you must return and
help me."
" I shall."

"Red Hearts" 227
And this was done. George insisted that his young
friend should go to the same plantation, Fairy-mead,
and attend the class of the same fair teacher that
had led him to Christ. On the first labour ship
that came along (the Para if I remember aright), he
was booked, with others, for Fairy-mead, and faith
fully kept the compact. Three to four years later he
returned in the May, the brightest of a band of
fourteen. That youth was Albert.
In the cane-fields and at the desk the spirit of his
teacher had shadowed his own. And on his return he
found George's first love still burning, ready to com
mingle with his and give a brighter light.
The grass -thatched chapel in which we sat was
their first combined effort. As we have seen, it was
built out of sight of the village, that the frown of the
chiefs might not be a continual menace to their
scholars. But afterwards we made friends with the
head chief, Mai Tongtong, a tall powerful man with
a pleasant smile. Thereupon the boys grew bolder :
they bought a piece of ground between the village and
the sea; put up a larger building, and with help
furnished it with windows and doors. When the
Sunday morning arrived for the opening ceremony,
we were slowly creeping along the coast in the boat,
under a hot sun, with a strange burden. It was a
long brown " box " of stained wood, a red cross on
the top. As the boat drew near we could see the
clean copper figures of the men and boys, wearing
red loin-cloths, moving about outside, and shining in
the dapple shade of the trees. It was the first young
church on the island, and at the sight our hearts gave
a jump.

228 The Conflict
" Hai, doctor, what have you there ? "
It was George who spoke.
" Frank ! Died last night. We're taking him home.
Can't stay for the service, George. And we want a
fresh crew."
The crew was quickly forthcoming, and we pushed
on. There was a long pull before us in the face of
wind and wave. Away down the coast, that bright
button, Moses, whom we met on the May, had
built a small church on a cliff above the sea, and by
his tactfulness and cheery manner had gathered the
young people round him. Frank, a comrade from the
same village, and now a member of the Salvation
Army, had returned to help him. He landed in his
uniform, in great spirit, waving the flag above his
head. Some white sinner in the foc'sle was tempted to
make fun of this new brand of soldier, and had con
trived that the grog-bottle should accompany the flag.
There was but one way to do it. At the last moment
the bottle, filled with kerosene (an acceptable gift),
was thrust into Frank's hand, and he leaped from the
prow, to fall, tripped, bottle and flag, into the foaming
surf and soft black sand. The eclipse was but
temporary. He rose with a laugh ; and at nightfall
the oil was used to the last drop in lighting the sacred
page and guiding darkened souls towards the Kingdom.
But Frank's vitality was already sapped by the
dread bacillus, and within a few months the oil of life
was exhausted ; his lamp had flickered and ceased to
burn. But to return to George. The congregation in
creased. Men came from the bush to hear the Word.
At times as many as one, and even two, hundred

"Red Hearts" 229
gathered within and around its walls. The " sing-
sings" were at a stand-still; and the women, too,
began to attend.
For a time the chiefs did not know what course to
follow, and swung alternately from friendship to hate.
Mai threatened to leave the village and go elsewhere.
Once and again we had to go round and mediate, and
soothe their ruffled feelings. During the service they
brought loaded muskets to the church fence to in
timidate, and finally shot at a woman. Two of the
young men had to flee to Queensland.
Thus their hearts grew " red " again, and openly
the threat was made that they would " close for ever
the eyes of those who went to school." Our absence
gave them the opportunity so much desired.
There was at Baiap an old man, Matok, with his
little boy, Bwerri, whom he used to lead to school.
The two went about hand in hand everywhere, fearing
to be separated. Their garden was at some distance
from the village. On the way thither one morning,
Bwerri stopped and said —
" Father, I'd like a swim this morning. Let me go
with the other boys."
Matok looked at him with some misgiving.
" You won't stay long ? "
" No; I shall come to you directly."
Two hours passed, and Matok was still gardening
alone. His anxiety became overpowering. He rose
from the ground, and hurried back along the track.
After searching for hours he found Bwerri lying in
their hut. His neck was swollen and his breathing
difficult. There was a lump above each eye.
" What is the matter, Bwerri ? "
There was no answer. The little fellow could not

230 The Conflict
speak. His larynx had been crushed, and his face
was turned to the left. His neck had been twisted.
In the night he died.
Next morning Matok rolled the body in a mat and
carried his grievous burden down to George.
"There, take him," he said; "that is because of
your work ! "
Even fear is soon forgotten. The young people
grew bold again, and the church was found too small.
For the third time it was enlarged, and finally it
was built of concrete. This new development was
not unobserved by the chiefs, and they muttered
significantly. By this time we had returned to the island, and
were busy rebuilding the station. Every Monday,
George, with a band of fellow-teachers, walked over
from the south coast to help us, returning on the
Saturday with picture rolls, and minds stored with
new truths for the people on Sunday. George's
mother, Tesa, and an adopted orphan boy about
twelve years old, named Bongnaim, took care of the
garden and his hut during the days he was away.
Christmas was close at hand, and our carpenters
would soon be leaving us.
It was mid-week in Baiap. One afternoon Malkon
had come down from Naubu to visit his brother chief.
Bongnaim was up one of the trees gathering bread
fruit, and an uncle sat on a log smoking. Otherwise
the village seemed empty. Suddenly the uncle was
startled by a suppressed voice calling —
" Sarakon ! Come. Mai wants you."
He rose and followed the stout man who had called
him, and met the two Mais and three Meluns making
for the bread-fruit trees.

"Red Hearts" 231
" Bong ! Come. We're going to gather some nuts,
and you must climb."
It was Mal-Tongtong who spoke. Bong slid rapidly
down the tree, and, leaving his bread-fruit in the fork
of the stem, followed them readily. He soon caught
up and was in their midst as they filed into a dense
part of the bush. He heard a peculiar cheep which
appeared to come from the branches overhead, and
looked up. As he did so his throat was tightly
grasped from behind, and he was thrown violently
on his face. The poisoner, Melun-Lubu, — no ghost
this time, — was on his back, pinning him to the earth.
For a few moments he struggled hard, while his throat
was being gripped as by a wild beast, and his mouth
forced into the dust, but quickly subsided into uncon
sciousness. With haste the murderer completed his
diabolical work, and then glanced up at Mai.
" Enough ! " said he.
They watched the still form in silence, till they saw
the right knee being drawn up. A moment later they
had vanished in different directions.
Slowly Bongnaim came to, and at nightfall was able
to crawl home to his hut. In the morning, speechless,
he rose from his mat and attempted to walk. He
managed to creep out of the hut, stumbled a few steps,
and fell, bleeding. The exertion was fatal.
Next day two messengers came for George. He
was gone ten days. A faithful shepherd, he had re
mained by his flock till their fears were calmed. Then
he returned. In the evening, after school, he and
Albert, with another youth, came into the house and
sat down on the matting beneath the lamp, to pour
out their tale. Word for word it was put in writing.
George recounted the names of the murderers.

232 The Conflict
" How do you know these are the men ? "
" Sarakon told me. I met him on the path at night
after the burial, and he said right out —
" O George, I am so sorry. I dared not speak, or
they would have killed me too."
At the conclusion of his story George looked up, his
eyes wide open with anxiety.
" O master, what shall we do ? "
" I don't know, George. But we can ask Him who
has promised to give wisdom liberally."
A few minutes later we had separated and retired for
the night. Before the clock had struck twelve our
plans were formed, and the whole station was buried
in sleep.

MELUN-LUBU.
' NO GHOST THIS TIME.'

233

CHAPTER XII.
The Arrest.
Early in the morning we all rose, launched the life
boat, and sailed away for the south coast. With Mr
Mansfield and myself came the two carpenters and
twelve strong boys, including George and Albert.
Mansfield was provided with a camera, myself with
a sheet of paper on which was written the whole
story ; and the boys were armed with spades and
shovels. Most of them wore blue uniforms with red
stripes, the gift of a well-wisher, and resembled island
policemen. It might have been considered a mild display of
force ; but force we would never use, and never found
it necessary. At Craig's Cove we drew two teeth for the French
trader there, and sent a messenger up to Naubu for
Malkon, a good reward being promised if he induced
the chief to come down and meet us at Baiap. At
the Cove, too, Willie Bai had built a church of con
crete, and had formed a station, neat and orderly,
of which no white man need have felt ashamed.
Farther on we came to Cromarty's out -station.
When the carpenters saw the mode of life of the
beach-combers and copra-makers, the pistols under

234 The Conflict
the pillow and hanging at the bed's head, they shrugged
their shoulders. They had been months at the mission-
station and till now had not smelt danger.
Arrived at Baiap we all took a turn at beating
the village drums. While the people were assemb
ling we had time to look round, and in a grove of
papaws and pine-apples near the church, saw the
two new mounds covered with white coral, and neatly
railed in. Getting Matok into the church by him
self, we asked him about Bwerri.
" He was killed."
" How do you know ? "
" Because that is the way they kill on Ambrym."
" But why should they kill him ? "
"Ah ! " he exclaimed beneath his breath, for he was
afraid of being overheard, "we know they killed him
for coming to school ; they had threatened to do so."
By this time a crowd had gathered. Malkon and
three of the murderers had come. Mr Mansfield and
myself moved about amongst the people taking snap
shots and quietly securing photographs of the mur
derers. Malkon, wandering around, caught sight of
the shovels beside the grave. Getting scent of what
was coming, he suddenly exclaimed —
" Ha ! is that your game ? "
In a moment he was gone. He was quickly over
taken and led back docilely by the arm.
" You are going away too soon ; we have something
to show you."
To this he made no answer.
Then we gathered round the coral mounds. The
murderers, with one or two others as " blinds," were
made to sit quite close to the grave. Soon the shovels
were at work. The roll of matting was brought up,

The Arrest 235
laid on the ground and opened, and the body rapidly
examined. It was that of a well-grown lad.
" Look you, Malkon," we said to him and the
murderers, " this is what we wanted to show you.
This is your work."
They made no response.
Then they were photographed together ; led into the
church and seated at the table; and, before the con
gregation, were charged with the deed. They seemed
to have lost their speech, and maintained a stolid
silence. To loosen their tongues we led them out
side and closely questioned them, singly and together.
It was of little avail. Even Sarakon seemed as deaf
and dumb as a stone wall. At last he opened his
mouth —
" The plot was arranged nine days before, during
the crying at a funeral."
Not another word of importance could we get from
him. Brought face to face they stoutly denied the charge.
They were then led inside again and warned before all,
that if by the following Sunday they were not prepared
to admit their guilt, and pledge their word to prevent
such deeds, word would be sent to Sydney.
On the Sunday a crowd filled and surrounded the
church. The whole six were present. Not to attend
would argue guilt. In the meantime they had been
trying to discover who it was that had betrayed them.
Suspicion fell upon Sarakon, but he skilfully shuffled
from under it. A neighbouring chief came to his rescue.
" O yes," said he, " Sarakon did say he thought
Malkon and Mal-Tongtong had done it. ' For,' he said,
' they are such powerful chiefs, and their mana is so
strong, that other men melt away from before them ! ' "

236 The Conflict
But the chiefs were not satisfied. Our knowledge of
the details was exact. Some eyewitness must have
given the information. A public meeting was held,
and two women whose tongues had been clattering
were put on trial. But the women cleared them
selves. That it was a murder no one disputed.
At the service on Sunday they were again warned.
We were their friends ; but unless they signed the
paper and gave their promise, a report would be sent
to the Admiral, and they would have to take the con
sequences. After the service they were taken together
into a hut and again examined. Sarakon was perhaps
the most frightened of the six, and fairly squirmed,
fearing momentarily that they would find him out.
We made no difference between him and the others,
lest we should be the means of giving him away, when
his life would not have been worth a straw. They
were thirsting for his blood.
They all denied and evaded the charge. Each
of the chiefs indignantly struck an attitude, telescope-
wise, with their hands, and, gazing at the ground, said —
" Let the man who saw it with his eye stand forth ! "
But "the man who saw it with his eye" had more
" savvy." So a report was sent to the Admiral at Sydney with
the request that he would " direct a warship to call
and warn the offenders not to repeat such a deed."
We could not stand by and see our young people
diabolically murdered in this wise.
We got a surprise in the first week of the New Year.
A request came from Naubu to build a church there.
Though the motive was fairly transparent, the mess
age boded good.
At this same Christmas we had our first baptismal

The Arrest 237
and communion service. There was a congregation of
three hundred. Eleven requests had been sent to us
from different points to come and build. They would
have to wait, for our hands were already more than
full. But we sent back the answer — " You build, and
we shall come."
In many instances they did so. In others, the cry,
though repeated, became fainter and fainter, and at
length died away altogether, and was heard no more.
We could not respond to all.
Slowly the hurricane season wore past. Three
months had gone and no warship appeared. The
chiefs were inclined to snicker. They were met with
the retort —
" You look : the sun is strong yet, and the big
wind no finish. You wait a bit."
But the cool season came on ; two months more
had gone ; and again the chiefs began to smile. They
rallied George. His answer was ready.
" The missionary's word is good ; it has never
failed." "Never promise unless you intend to perform" is
apparently a good fulcrum to depend on in savagedom
as in civilisation.
At the end of five full months a warship came. On
a Sunday afternoon H.M.S. Royalist steamed up to
Dip Point and dropped anchor. The Commander
was for surrounding the villages in the grey dawn,
and capturing the murderers in their beds. But we
had thought of a better plan — a peaceful arrest.
" Do you mean to say these fellows will follow you
out of their woods to the deck of a man-o'-war ? "
"We are not sure, Captain. But we think they
may. Let us try ! "

238 The Conflict
"As you will."
The captain was most courteous and willing to
accede to our wishes. We wanted to cow these men,
but to win them also. Force and bloodshed would
totally ruin our influence for good. The ideal — to be
masterful and yet absolutely gentle — we found most
difficult of attainment. Meek and gentle souls are
apt to be taken for fools and treated as such, and
not by savages only.
The morning dawned with heavy showers. These
would suit our purpose, and keep the chiefs from wan
dering early. With Albert and two other lads we set
out, equipped with umbrella and mackintosh only. By
the time we reached Naubu the sun was shining
brightly. Halting in front of Malkon's hut, we called
to him across the low stone wall. He came out.
"The man-o'-war has come, Malkon; the captain
wants you."
He visibly paled, but never moved a muscle nor an
eyelash. "How?"" Tell him, Albert, the sailors were coming last
night to catch him in his bed ; but we said that was
not good ; Malkon is a chief, and will come him
self. Say he must come, for we have promised for
him. The man-o'-war is on the way now to Baiap
to meet us."
Albert told him. He was quite quiet.
" Tell him that we will be his friend if he comes at
once. He had better bring a present for the captain."
He appealed to Albert.
" What shall I bring ? "
"A club, spear, arrow, — something like that, but
good."

The Arrest 239
" Very well ! "
We went on some distance. There was no sign of
the chief following us.
" Do you think he will come, Albert ? "
" I think so. He said he would."
At Baiap we found Mal-Tongtong at home. He
was all smiles, and apparently in great good-humour.
Messengers were despatched in different directions to
bring up the other four. I sat down to rest, and
to wait for them and for the Royalist. Sitting on the
ground in front of me, toying with his club, Mai
was most friendly and talkative.
" Tell me all about it."
I told him.
" Whew ! that was good ! " and he pawed my knee
with his black hand. He seemed really grateful.
Possibly he was thinking of a surprise visit Baiap
had received a few years previously for clubbing the
captain of some small craft. The men of the village
finding themselves surrounded took to the trees, and
tried to defend themselves, when many of them were
shot among the branches.
Half an hour later the Royalist appeared, bowling
round the point in full sail. Mr Mansfield was on
board to point out the locality. The boat passage was
half a mile away from the village. As we went
towards it along the shore, preceded and followed by
a trailing crowd, we had some difficulty in sighting
any of our prisoners. Would they come ? They were
handcuffed with moral suasion only, but it proved suf
ficient. We found them all, gathered in the rocky dell
beside the landing. Up to this time they had kept a
fairly bold face ; but, as the big boat drew nearer and
nearer with its double bank of white uniforms, the

240 The Conflict
smiles faded away. Each click of the oars in the row
locks was a thud to their quaking hearts. For a
moment Malkon lost heart altogether, and hid in the
crowd. But when called, he came forward, and they
all bravely took their places in the stern, each with
his hands full of weapons. As the boat drew off, a
wail arose from those on shore. The people thought
they should see their chiefs no more. As we climbed
up the gangway we heard the order sharply given —
" Quartermaster, don't let those weapons aboard ! "
It was the captain's voice — to the officer at the gangway.
" They are a present for you, captain."
" I'm judge to-day, doctor, and can't take presents ! "
" May they give them to the sailors ? "
Permission was given, and the chiefs with their
weapons came aboard. As we stepped on to the
deck there was a twinkle observable in the eyes of
the " handy " men around. In fact, the good old
oaken ship was quivering with suppressed laughter
in every plank. And the reason was not far to seek.
Following the direction of the sailors' eyes, we saw
pacing the quarter-deck overhead, with all the dignity
of royalty on command, the figures of Mal-Pangkumu
and his brother, Mal-Yafu. They were the guests of
the navy for the day, and, to honour the occasion,
had elected to wear the scarlet coats. It was their
only article of clothing, worn unbuttoned, and barely
reaching the hips behind. Conscious only of their
own dignity and importance, they strutted about the
high deck and leaned over the rail without the trace
of a smile. Their spines had caught the military
curve. For once the army was upsides with the
navy. It was the choicest bit of pantomime we had
seen in the islands.

The Arrest 241
A kind of court-martial was held in the captain's
saloon beside the stern-chasers as the vessel (she was
an auxiliary) steamed back to Dip Point. The chiefs
were warned that deportation would follow a repeti
tion of the offence. Promises of good conduct having
been exacted, they were put ashore at the station at
sunset, to walk home overland and tell their tale by
the way.
Our own chiefs had enjoyed the day. As Mai, his
upper half still arrayed in scarlet, stepped out of the
boat, he exclaimed to some of his admiring subjects —
"The fighting men aboard — they are as many as
these pebbles on the beach ! "
He had seen the morning parade too ; had listened
to the prayers; and was greatly impressed with the
fact that "the fighting men" all went to school, and
considered it a good thing. The Mission had gained
greatly by the day's proceedings. There was no sore
feeling ; no ill-will ; persecution (of that kind) ceased ;
the chiefs generally, and the scarlet coats particu
larly, were seen more often at church. They had ad
vanced another stage in learning the best of all
lessons for men of rank —
" 'Tis only noble to be good."

242

CHAPTER XIII.
Casting the Net.
" Love demands a threefold cord : to be, to utter, and to do."
It will be readily understood that on all the islands the
native churches are in the first instance mere huts of
reeds and thatch. There is no other material to hand.
As the years pass, these give place to larger and more
substantial buildings. At Dip Point we were still in
the early stage; but the generosity of many friends,
touched in heart and pocket by the storm and the fire,
was rapidly giving us a station worthy of the work.
As a rule each missionary, if he will, may be his own
architect. And it is surprising to note the difference
in appearance the mere twist of a board makes, pro
vided one knows how to give it the twist.
We might take a lesson from the cultured heathen.
The Greeks studied nature. So firmly did they believe
that the gods are, and that they love the beautiful,
that they strove to make the abodes and temples of
earth worthy of the celestial visitors. And if the
priests and monks of the Middle Ages failed in many
things, they at least have left us glorious monuments
of the building art, whereby we may appraise their
faith and marvel at their enthusiasm.
Will believed in simple cottage style for the mission-

Cottage.

Hospital. Mission House.
THE STATION.

Native Church.
From a Photograph by
Rev. William Watt, Tanna.

Casting the Net 243
field, and at first was almost puritanic in his tastes.
One could sympathise, and sigh for the simplicity
of a lime-washed cottage, a sanded floor, a few fresh
flowers, some books, and a corner pallet. What more
is necessary ? Such might do for the celibate and
devotee, in a clean cold climate where nature is
tamed and order reigns.
Here it is not enough. Life is a battle, complex
and continuous, with foes of all degree, from the
microbe to the savage ; in which the elements, too,
may take an adverse hand. Celibacy is a failure.
Marriage brings serious responsibilities. We have
here, side by side, the two modes of life. Anglicans
and Catholics have tried the one, and the former have
accomplished much. But the full- orbed family life
holds the vantage. To the celibate many doors are
barred and many avenues closed to the homes and
hearts of the people. Wondering, and perhaps sus
picious, eyes are turned upon the man who is neither
husband nor father.
And if a woman must be asked to share the toils
and privations of a life amid such surroundings, her
house should be her home, and not a market-place.
She should have a corner she may call her own,
sacred to the family altar, beautiful as love can make
it, separate and restful, reminiscent of home and the
home-land. Moreover, if it be true that —
" Birds in their little nests agree,"
the little birds will tell you from every bough that
they can best reach their sweetest notes when each
little family has a nest of its own. And the saints
are not superior to the birds. Young enthusiasm may
show its scorn at this. But youth is evanescent.

244 The Conflict
Time will have his say ; and Wisdom knows what best
endures in lands like these.
As for the people, it is all as you begin with them.
Take them the right way, and you will find them not
only capable of appreciating the finer feelings, but
pleased to find you have them too ! Therewith respect
deepens. Nor is it necessary to live as do the people.
Here, indeed, custom and climate make it impossible.
Rather should one respect and stoutly maintain one's
own individuality and nationality. For instance, it
is better surely to be a genuine Englishman than
seem a counterfeit Chinaman. And the sweeter and
more refined the home, the better the results on
those around. Pride, not envy, is awakened, where
hauteur, or selfishness, does not lift its ugly head.
The missionary is not a bird of passage, a prophet
come to exhort, to scold, and to pass on. He is
theirs — come to live with and for them, and possibly
to lay his own and his children's dust with theirs.
The seed takes root. Liking is followed by love.
Before they are aware, first the blade, and then the
ear, have formed. Consciousness — of changed re
lations — at length awakes. The fruit has come. His
affections and ideals are theirs. Some souls are won
and take a stand. The numbers grow. And now —
" Come the four corners of the world in arms,
They'll shock them,"
or die for and with their friend.
It is thus work, true and lasting, takes root and
spreads, to fill the land. To evangelise the world
may require but one generation : so to win it, many.
The home, the first strand in the cordage of the
mission-net, usually precedes the building of a church,

Casting the Net 245
the latter forming the second. For the man must
live, and health comes first. Moreover, it is the rule,
in these days of marine facilities, for the missionary
to imitate the hermit-crab and carry his house with
him. To build a church of equal quality at once
would be an error. The fisher must proceed warily.
So the heathen people are themselves employed to
do the work : the women to clean the reeds and
plait the thatch ; the men to dig the holes, and to
cut and carry posts, and bamboo poles, and slabs of
sago-palm. This is so much piecework. Then, when
the material has been gathered, the frame goes up ;
the men sew on the thatch, the women gather sand
and coral. The building is theirs, made with their
own hands; and all have taken part. So, when the
Sabbath comes, instead of none daring to enter, they
gather freely within its walls. They have been led
naturally up to God's altar. The shadows of super
stition have fled, and with eye and ear and open
mouth they are drinking in the story of the Cross.
Such was our present building, a structure of reeds
and thatch, about sixty feet long and twenty wide.
At the eastern end was a dais of white concrete, raised
a few inches above the sanded floor, with chairs for
the missionaries and visitors. At one corner stood
the pulpit-desk with its crimson cloth and some palms
and ferns. Immediately below sat the convalescent
patients in grey flannel shirts ; and right opposite
was the native staff of " boys " and " girls " of all ages,
with clean shining faces and bright garments. The
lower half of the church was divided by a screen of
reeds, which separated the men from the women, as
in the ancient synagogues. These people were still
in their savage dress, but clothing was becoming the

246 The Conflict
fashion, and the area of colour — of red and white, of
yellow and blue in many shades — was surely spreading,
and threatening to engulf the brown. The chiefs in
their scarlet coats sat on the front bench, in a sense
protecting the phalanx of dusky figures behind, and
yet preparing the way for their absorption. Mal-
Bongnaun in a silk dust-coat occupied the corner next
the screen.
The screen itself was a concession to native etiquette.
A remarkable cleft, or we may liken it to a dividing
wall, runs right through native society over nearly
the whole of Melanesia. It has to do with blood
and marriage relationships. Among those, on the
same side of the divided chasm, all intermarriage is
forbidden. It would be regarded as an abomination,
to be severely punished. They are considered as being
all members of one family. The girl seeks her hus
band, and the youth his wife, from those on the
other side.
It is undoubtedly a good thing, and we have to
be careful lest we destroy with a rude hand what
has, to them, all the sanctity of a moral law. An
outward sign of this law is seen in the fact that a
woman will not face and pass her son-in-law ; they
avoid each other. She may have to turn aside and
leave the track, burying her face in the bushes till he
has passed. Some women, again, must not walk past
a chief if he is sitting down. On account of this,
they congregate at the church-door, afraid to enter;
or they creep past on hands and knees. Although
they are coming in by the door on the opposite side,
the chiefs may have to rise and look the other way
to let them enter. Such disturbance interferes with
the decorum of worship. Hence the screen.

THE NATIVE CHURCH.
(Ground Plan.)

Casting the Net 247
Within the church at least three dialects, distinct as
languages, were represented, while many, including the
visitors, understood English, or simple English only.
The service had to be so adapted that the hearts
and minds of all should be fed. Two of the hymns
were sung in native, and could be followed in the
English books; other two in English, being prefaced
by a brief explanation in native. Prayers, lessons,
and sermons were likewise given in both tongues,
so that all could follow more or less closely, and
attention was kept throughout. It was our constant
aim that both white and black should catch successive
glimpses of the world's Redeemer, and be irresistibly
drawn to His feet. Nor were we always disappointed.
And the service was not a sombre one. The pot-
plants and the many colours, the intent faces and
the streaming sunshine, the bright picture- rolls on
the walls around, left no room for anything lugubrious
or sad. We had no organ, but the hymns were ac
companied by the twitter of the birds in the woods,
and the prayers, single or many- voiced, by the solemn
undertones of the waves on the reef.
Moreover, there was seldom wanting some humor
ous incident to relieve even the seriousness. This
morning there was one such. On the front seat,
on the women's side, waiting to be admired, sat
Batika, of middle age, one of the characters of the
village. One could not fail to observe that her
get-up was unusually smart, — pink sleeves, pink collar,
pink flounce, and a white overall. A passing mental
note had to suffice, as the service was beginning.
The mystery was solved later on. For the new
fashion — of wearing clothing — the mission ladies were
largely responsible. Twice a -week they had sewing

248 The Conflict
classes for the girls and women. Already there were
eighty scholars who were more than eager to possess
"nee-dil an' tread." The cutting-out and basting
required for so many gave no little work; and often
the stitches had to be ripped up to be sewn again,
just to keep them going. For regular attendance
and neat work the dress itself was the reward.
Some of the more advanced scholars, of which
Batika was one, had completed not only a dress
but an under - garment ; and at length had been
allowed to carry them away in triumph. Batika's
reappearance on Sunday will not be readily forgotten.
Why such a pretty garment should be completely
covered from sight was beyond her simple under
standing. She would not be a party to anything
so stupid. It did not occur to her that she could
copy her civilised sisters, who lift their skirts to dis
play, below, the hidden beauty of silk or lace. So
she put on the pink dress first, and wore the chemise
on top.
From the church we passed over to the hospital.
Thither from amongst the congregation some twenty
to thirty out-patients had preceded us. The mission
boys came too. It was their duty, under the assistant's
supervision, to wash and dress the many sores, while
doctor and matron were going round the wards. It
was the happiest, brightest hour of the week ; for
the helpful words of psalm and hymn were forthwith
being translated into deeds, and their music was yet
with us. "Thy touch has still its ancient power;
No word from Thee can fruitless fall."
In the female ward, to which we first came, there

'THY TOUCH HAS STILL ITS ANCIENT POWER.'

Casting the Net 249
were three or four women — shy gentle creatures whom
their French master had with kindness brought from
a plantation on a neighbouring island.
" What is the matter, Guido ? "
"It is not with them as it should be; and they
are 'lazy' [i.e., too weak to work]."
And no wonder. Their lungs were semi-solid. The
bacillus again. There was no hope for them of
recovery, and as wrecks they must be taken back
to their own island, to linger a while, and to die.
In the male ward there was something of more
than usual interest. Three tall wild fellows had come
in from the bush, with enormous ulcers of the leg.
The raw surfaces had been cleansed and prepared,
and skin-grafts planted all over them. It reminded
them of the yam -planting, but it was gardening of
a new sort. During the process of scraping and
transplanting, they had covered their faces with the
bed-quilts. Not that they were afraid of chloroform,
but covering the face helped them bravely to do
without. One lad, indeed, when lying on the table
awaiting amputation of his arm, clapped the chloro
form mask — the half shell of a cocoa-nut lined with
lint — over his nose and mouth, and held it there
firmly himself, till his hand fell nerveless at his side.
It was now time to examine the grafts, and curious
eyes looked on. For the most part they had done
well ; and the wild men from the woods chuckled
and smiled, and felt they were heroes indeed.
Already our patients were coming from nearly every
island in the Group. " Despair " was one of the first
to enter the hospital doors. He, poor lad, came
seeking help for his " elephant " leg. One limb in
its size was nearly equal to his whole body. He

250 The Conflict
was a waif, and could speak English of a sort. But
there was no need of speech, the look in his face was
enough. Lastly, before reaching the surgery, we had to pass
through what was known as the " white ward," a
ward more daintily furnished for white patients.
Here, before the service, we had left two men rest
ing comfortably in their beds. One, a stout engineer,
had arrived the previous night. The other, beneath
the mosquito tent, was none other than our old ac
quaintance, Jean Pasquin.
As we entered the door, a sight met our eyes enough
to shock even the toughest. The transformation was
complete. The ward we had left two hours before,
so sunny, clean, and peaceful, was full of sound and
fury. Not from the patients. They were quiet enough,
too quiet in fact. But a swarm of " blue jays " had
taken possession. It is a curious natural fact worth
thinking about, that when a party of bushmen go
on expedition, these creatures accompany them. Such
a party had come to the church this morning.
The engineer had been ill, and now lay apparently
unconscious, his face and beard buried under a white
mass which resembled handfuls of snow.
As for Jean, he was cowering beneath the quilt.
The "jays" were now giving him full attention,
angrily buzzing, and plunging furiously at the tent,
rebounding and plunging again, as if determined to
devour both it and him. The engineer was hastily
removed to another ward. Jean was slow to gather
up courage to leave the tent. At length we routed
him out of his bed ; and, wrapping his head in a towel,
he rushed into the open. Then, with some difficulty,
the intruders were expelled, with a spray of strong

'DESPAIR'

CAME SEEKING HELP.'

Casting the Net 251
lotion from a watering-can, and by the smoke and
fumes of camphor from a dish of burning leaves.
Thereupon they invaded the other wards. They even
sought out the keyholes of the linen-chests, of which
there was one to each cot. Where they could not
gain entrance themselves, they left their progeny, and
pointed them onward to their destructive work. And
thus they ruined every good blanket in the institution.
The traces of their evil visit remained for many a day.
There was no doubt that absinthe had been smuggled
into the ward, and hence the engineer's condition.
But a swift and terrible Nemesis had been keeping
watch. It seemed impossible to do Jean Pasquin good,
physically or otherwise. Daily the battery was applied,
of kindly offices. If these shocks failed to awaken and
stimulate his better nature, words would be of no avail.
It was our function, by faith rather than by
meddling, to seek the gold amid the clay of his nature
and strive to recover it. For good there is in every
soul the most abandoned. It is a strange comment
on our spirituality, that a dog may discover that good,
and cling to it, and follow on, when men have failed.
And we did fail. Possibly our methods were clumsy,
or our insight dim. Day after day his ways became
more objectionable. For the sake of others discipline
would have to be enforced. And this Sunday morning
the climax had been reached. He must go.
At noon the French steamer was sighted; and at
two o'clock we were discussing his case with the
captain in the surgery.
" I could bear with and nurse him myself, Captain,
but cannot ask a lady to do it. The other sufferers,
too, must be considered."

252 The Conflict
" I know his tongue is very vile."
" It is not that. We cannot allow the hospital to
be wilfully made a sty."
" But he is dying ! "
" No. He is a long way yet from that. We could
bear with a dying man."
So, with a stock of medicine to last some weeks, he
was carried, a living death, pick-a-back down to the
boat. The old captain's prophecy was coming true.
Already these dread foes had attacked the keyholes
of his senses. He was relieved of his sufferings, and
taught how to ward them off. But on his return to
his own island the fight would begin again. The same
foes, or their progeny, would reissue from their leafy
haunts to attack the living master as they had his
dead victim. And there was no doubt which would
win. The battle lasted three months.
As the steamer vanished round the point, we could
not help thinking of him regretfully. Here was one
whom we had sought to win in vain. Yet his delicate
carving, in black-edged pearl, of " Moonlight in the
Tropics" — a village on the mountain-side — remains
with me a constant witness that somewhere in his
nature the love of the beautiful still held its throne.
Some fish refuse to be caught ; and some tear and
rend the net, and can only be taken with a hook in
the jaws. Happily there is a Fisher who has time,
and patience, and skill, to capture them all.

253

CHAPTER XIV.
Our Boys.
"And so the word had breath, and wrought
With human hands the creed of creeds
In loveliness of perfect deeds,
More strong than all poetic thought :
Which he may read that binds the sheaf,
Or builds the house, or digs the grave,
And those wild eyes that watch the wave
In roarings round the coral reef. "
" Fie, fie, Lili ! Can't you do better than that ? "
There must have been a tinge of sharpness in the
tone, though I was not conscious of it. For the little
cripple dropped his shovel where he was standing, and,
turning his back on us, walked away.
We were putting in the foundation-blocks for the
hospital; and big blocks they were. In the bush at
the back, hardwood trees were selected and felled ;
the boles were sawn into requisite lengths ; and each
length was then rolled to the site, raised by block and
tackle, and lowered on to a base of lime-concrete.
Having been brought to the right level to receive the
wall-plates, it was surrounded with a casing of concrete
banked up with earth. For we wanted to keep out
the ants and to get a good grip of the ground. This
building must be able to withstand a hurricane and
be proof against fire.

254 The Conflict
As the carpenters were cutting out the frame, and
the assistant was hurriedly lining and roofing his house,
this portion of the work fell to myself and a gang of
our " boys." Lili was one of those who were shovelling
the earth up : he had missed his aim, and had sent a
shovelful of the black soil in amongst the concrete.
" Lili's gone away, Doctor."
" Never mind him, Willie. Let him be ; he'll come
round." But the afternoon passed, and he did not come back
to his work. Still we left him to himself. He was
not a new boy; we have met him in a previous
chapter. If he had been, admonition or dismissal
would follow, for the discipline had to be strict. But
Lili had remained with us and been faithful all through,
and some incidents in his career are worth relating.
As a child he had come in contact with fire and had
burned his right leg. Contraction of the muscles and
sinews followed ; and when he first came to us he was
able only to crawl on the ground in a sitting posture,
propelling himself along by means of his right hand
and left foot. At first surgical work was out of the
question — there was too much else to do. But one
Sunday evening a message was brought with an empty
bottle to the tea-table. Outside, the little fellow was
found perched up on a stump, covering his face. Our
servant-woman was laughing.
"What does this mean, Lipas ? "
" Lili wants some of the strong medicine that will
make him sleep while his legs are jerked straight."
We got him on to crutches, and gradually the
crooked joints began to unfold and the muscles to
stretch. He had reached this stage at the time of
the hurricane.

Our Boys 255
I have already referred to the difficulty we had in
reaching the steamer on the Tuesday following the
great storm. The sea was still high, and the waves
were thundering in volume over the reef. After two
days of cruising under the lee of the island, the
captain managed to bring his ship opposite the open
ing in the reef, and to hold her there for a short time
by keeping the wheels revolving. It was too rough to
land any of the much-needed cargo, and Mr Mansfield
with the one boy who could speak English was left
on board to land with it at Craig's Cove. A couple
of cases had been hastily dropped into the boat when
the captain called out —
" Now, Doctor, the reef is getting too close. If
you don't get away at once, we'll tow you out to
sea. You won't like that ! "
I pushed off with the crew of raw and naked
islanders. There were still some directions to be
given, and these had to be shouted. In doing so I
leaned on the steering-oar and gave a shove. The
mate raised his hands with a cry of warning —
"You've pulled the wrong way!"
So I had. A glance over the shoulder showed us
there was no room to turn. The reef was close
ahead — an ugly brown wall, rising up and again dis
appearing as the seas swept over it. To turn meant
death. We should be swamped and buried in the
wild sea. There was no time to think, and barely
time for the quick resolve to keep her straight on.
This we did.
" Pull hard, boys !— hard ! "
All at once the blade of the steering-oar bent, and
sprang from the water skywards, nearly taking me
with it. And from the stern where I was standing

256 The Conflict
I looked down into a gulf of yellow foam below the
reef wall. I see it yet. For a moment all was un
certain. We were on the crest of a great wave. The
boat was pitched headlong, and fell — not to be dashed
in pieces as we expected, but as if on a feather pillow.
We were dropped, softly, fair on top of the wall.
Our place on the wave was surely providentially timed.
Had we been the boat's length farther ahead, we
should have been crushed against the wall and borne
down by the oncoming wave. A similar distance
astern, and the boat would have been broken in two
on the edge of the reef, or have slipped back into the
boiling sea. As it was, we were right on the crest,
and the planks and keel of the boat, being old and
springy, had yielded like rubber to the blow.
When I turned round there was not a soul in the
boat : the natives must have made a leap for life, and
were now up to their waists in the water, holding to
the gunnels. Each succeeding wave again lifted the
boat and threw us all forward towards the shore.
We held on to her, wading at her side and guiding
her onward.
The whole incident had taken but a few seconds.
One's brain seemed to be in a whirl. Yet I had
noticed an anxious little figure, of some one on the
beach, limping along in great haste. As he came
opposite us, he threw aside his supports and plunged
into the lagoon. Like a faithful Newfoundland dog,
he swam towards us, his black eyes staring from their
white -rimmed sockets. It was Lili! He had come
on his crutches, and was devoting his mite of strength
to our salvation. But when he came, what could he
do ? We put him into the boat, for she was full,
and set him a-bailing.

Our Boys 257
All through our troubles — fire, eruption, sickness,
and threats of violence from the heathen — he had
remained by us. How could one be angry with such
a good little soul, even though he did lose his temper
for a brief afternoon ? And now he was so improved
physically that he had cast aside all supports, and
could handle axe or shovel like a man.
Next morning, after breakfast, there came a tapping
at the front door of our shanty. For we were still
living among the cases and barrels on top of the
timber, covered temporarily with iron. I opened the
door and stepped down on to the grass. There
stood Lili, his small misshapen frame twitching with
nervousness. " Master, suppose you no want me, very good you
send me away."
His eyes, the lids half drooping, were fixed on the
lower panels of the door.
" What is the matter, Lili ? "
" Suppose you no want me any more, very good
you send me, me go," he stammered.
The lids had fallen lower, and he saw only the
grass at his feet. The little mouth worked nervously.
" Why should I do that ? What has gone wrong ? "
" Master, you look," and now the tears were drop
ping fast, " me get cross yesterday. Me no good any
more. Suppose you say me go, me go." The words
were punctuated with sobs.
" No, no. We want your help. There is much to
do, and we all get cross sometimes. Run away and
get your shovel."
The bell had rung, and he limped away after
the other boys, wiping his eyes on the back of his
hands.

258 The Conflict
I gazed after him, and wondered what kind of a
night that tender little conscience had come through.
A few months later some of these lads were baptised,
including Lili, Tatu, and Saranlibu. They were allowed
to choose their own Christian names, and were hence
forth known as Moses, Peter, and David. One Friday
evening after school, we were surprised by a request
from the little cripple to be allowed to " make school "
on Sunday at Vadli, the home of his mother's people,
a long, weary, coastal climb. David joined him. And
thus this insignificant child of four years previously,
who trailed his body in the dust, began to minister
to a large church and congregation, large for Ambrym.
He was an eloquent speaker, and had plenty of soul.
Indeed, his gait and his fervour reminded us of a
famous Edinburgh preacher. But in a thirsty land
flowers that are not watered must perforce wither.
And so it came to pass with Lili. It was not possible
for us to give him the help and attention he required
and deserved. Events were against him. The last
time I saw him, he came along the main path on
the station followed by Krong and a band of clean,
brightly dressed lads who had gathered round him
at Vadli. In response to a warm greeting he said
in the best of English —
" I am very well, thank you ! "
Next day, Sunday, as we were on the way to some
villages, he was asked —
" What about the new book ? Can you read it ? "
" Some of the words are too strong for me."
This, although we had used up all the hyphens in
a large printing-house in the endeavour to separate
the syllables and break the words up small.
My faith in him is undiminished, though his name

Our Boys 259
is no longer on the list of teachers. Lili, now
married, still lives beside the Mission ground at
Vadli, and doubtless thinks and dreams, with both
pleasure and pain, of the days that are gone.
Ever and anon the desire swept over the younger
ones to go and see the world ; and they were at
tracted towards distant lands as are moths to the
fatal flame. Some returned the better for their ex
perience. Others perished in following their ambition.
Once and again some of the most promising of our
boys and girls stumbled and fell, and had to be sternly
put away for a season. The people, too, were jealous
for the reputation of the Mission staff, and when they
found a shady character in our midst, were quick to
warn us that one scabby sheep would infect the whole
flock. They objected to sit and listen to Scripture or
decalogue from the lips of any who were known to
be impure or dishonest.
No, our boys were not perfect. There was, for
instance, the matter of washing. Tatu never took
kindly to water. The other lads, as we have seen,
made a jest at Tatu's expenditure in the matter of
soap. But how could we expect otherwise of him ?
He came from a region that was completely shut off
from access to the sea, unless some of the bolder
spirits ventured by stealth along the mountain ridges,
or made the expedition thither by dead of night.
His circle of villages, though they were strong enough
to defend themselves, was surrounded by foes who at
times thirsted for blood. The people had to be con
tent with a dry toilet. Of water inland there was
none. And so men ignorant of their nature, it may be in
the guise of a gold-laced uniform, or of a silk hat

260 The Conflict
and a white tie, come casually by, and looking on
the dusty brown skins of our people, or observing
the obeisance shown by certain of the women, rank
them as " low down " and " among the most degraded
in the South Seas." Even Captain Cook viewed them
with aversion, and called them " an ape-like nation."
Yet has bitter experience proved it possible for the
white skin, even of the civilised and the educated, to
cover at times more real savagery than do the brown
skins and befeathered hair of these so-called "re
pulsive" children of nature. So the worshippers of
the Nile despised the dusky sons of Jacob and whipped
them into servitude. But the clean - skinned slave-
drivers were swept away by the rising tide, while
the unwashed dwellers in tents were honoured as the
custodians of divine truth for the nations of the world.
We need to know these people before we can judge
of them. Nature, for the most part, conceals her
beauties within her breast. They have to be sought
for in hidden recesses, and are not to be seen from
the windows of the rushing train or the deck of a
passing steamer. To the eye of the wearied traveller
these mountains1 are clad with nought but gum-
trees, grey, monotonous, sombre. That is but
Nature's overall. Stay a while and make friends with
her. She will fill the vast chasms with Heaven's
own dyes of amethyst and blue, and lead you by
mysterious paths to caves and waterfalls, to nymph-
haunted dells and fairy bowers, that fill Australian
hearts with pride.
So among these people a true search for the good
and the beautiful in character will not go unrewarded.
The Bishop of North Queensland ventures the state-
1 The Blue Mountains of New South Wales.

Our Boys 261
ment that the South Sea Islanders met with in his
diocese manifest " a perfect genius for religion." This
is in part explained by the fact that they have been
under Mission influence before they reached Australia.
It certainly takes a considerable time and often much
"hard graft" to discover the "genius for religion"
in the original islanders. And the " genius " is not
always accompanied by clarity of ideas in those that
return. Johnnie, for instance, had just returned from
the plantations. A fine specimen of copper-coloured
manhood, he had been baptised, and could pray in
English. We were gathered for the evening meeting,
and it was our usual plan to call on the lads in turn
to engage in prayer. We were all hushed and solemn,
with heads bent in earnest expectation.
"Johnnie!"
There was a pause while Johnnie drew his breath.
Then — he had a powerful voice —
" O Grandfather  "
Happily our boys were too thick-headed to see the
humour o't ; but surely the angels, if any such were
employed to transmit the message, must have smiled
as they passed it on.
Yet in a measure I do agree with the Bishop. These
islanders, where their interests are not already, like the
chiefs', vested in heathenism, are docile and teachable,
emotional and responsive. Otherwise this book had
not been written. Johnnie was not so far wrong after
all. The natives, as heathen, call upon their dead
fathers and grandfathers. He was a good fellow and
sufficiently in earnest, but his ideas required a little
sifting. He went away down the south coast to
Lalinda, his own village, built a large native church,
and filled it with listeners.

262 The Conflict
Following Johnnie homewards, came one James
Taltasso, a broad-shouldered man of short stature,
with a black beard and a smiling face. He was full
of the desire to tell out the good news. When he
found there was a church and teacher already in his
own village (Lalinda), he decided to break fresh ground
farther east. In his own simple words —
" They no hear about God yet ; me want to go and
tell them."
He was warned by his own friends and by other
villages that he would be killed and eaten. His noble
answer was —
" If God wants me to preach the Gospel to these
people, He will take care of me."
So away he tramped along the beach, and disap
peared from our sight. His faith and courage were
rewarded. A long way down the coast, on the south
east of the island, he found a village willing to receive
him. Here he built a church, of course of poles and
thatch. Soon another village asked him to come and
teach them too, and built for him again. Gradually
the two increased to five, and James expended his
energies in travelling from one to the other, teaching
and preaching and doing the work of a friar. But one
day he found to his surprise that two other men were
engaged farther down, trying in feebler mode to do
similar work. These he found in what he always
regarded as the dark cannibal country. With these
he pushed on, a sore tramp, visiting the villages, till
they reached the farthest outstation on the north
east coast. Thence, by canoe, they paddled and
sailed, till he had landed his prizes at Dip Point.
Thus, by means of these Queensland lads, the Mission
had, for the first time, circled the island.

Our Boys 263
At the time of which I am writing, the work had
spread till there were some twenty stations with gather
ings that fluctuated from a mere handful up to three
hundred souls. But the most that can be said of the
work is, that the conquest was well begun. It was
in its most delicate stage. For the natives were like
hermit-crabs being wooed out of their shells by low
sweet music, the music of love. A discordant note,
a rough breath, a lumbering tread — and they are gone ;
there is nought to be seen but worn and lifeless shells,
dead as the pebbles on the shore.
Souls are not to be driven but drawn. They are
to be wooed and won and led confidingly into the
fold, as were the sheep of Christ's own day on the
far-away hills of Galilee. And for results in this
delicate work we were largely dependent on our boys.
To change the figure, while we may be the white
floats, it is to the brown invisible net we owe success.
They were not clever; their mental calibre is small.
Food, climate, history, want of training are all against
them. But to moral and spiritual influences they are
alive and sensitive. For this work some of them had
given up salaries of nearly £40 a-year, with keep, to
receive instead a half-crown a-week and find for them
selves. With the example of Christ's own love and
self-sacrifice before them, they could be thoroughly
unselfish, devoted, altruistic. And by quiet good
ness, by gifts of speech and zeal, they led the
way. For not only were they our builders, gardeners,
boats' crews, and travelling staff; they were our
windows through which we looked out upon the people,
and the people looked into the innermost chambers
of our lives. Above all, they were the channels

264 The Conflict
through which the water of life descended to in
numerable mouths. Their ardour was contagious.
Some had caught the fire in Queensland, some on
Ambrym, and gave themselves, whether to live or
die, to telling unto others what they had found. But
all had not the courage of a Tatu or a Lili.
Saturday was devoted largely to preparation for the
work of the following day. One such morning as we
came out of the female ward and down the steps,
we became aware of the presence of one of the boys
in a corner, face to the wall, sobbing. Stepping
across the grass to him, I laid my hand on his
shoulder. " What's the matter, Harry ? "
Some seconds passed, and the question had to be
repeated before the answer was forthcoming.
" I — can't — preach."
He was a shy youth, and a vision of early days
swept across my memory.
" Never mind, lad ! Who goes with you ? "
" David, Joseph, and Benjamin."
These were his companions, and like himself were
baptised and had chosen their own names.
" So it is your turn ? Well, we can get David to
do the speaking."
They were to go on the morrow afternoon to one
of the villages.
If Harry was too shy as yet to preach, he could
shine. And he did, in his silent, diffident way. Many
a hard day's work he put in at founding the Mission,
with shovel, oar, and saw ; and many a long hour he
patiently sat at my side helping to translate.
He never became a preacher, but shone by quiet
goodness alone. His death, for he barely reached

Our Boys 265
manhood, was the most radiant on our record. As he
lay dying, a voice whispered in his ear —
" Harry, is it Jesus ? "
"Yes, yes!"
"And raising his hand heavenwards, he held it there,
moving the fingers as though calling or beckoning some one.
He then closed his eyes, and we thought he was gone. But
no. Up went the arm again. He had a clear vision, for
his face brightened with it; and the smile remained."1
By faith, apparently, he saw his comrades across
the stream, and beckoned to them. A message, sent
for the occasion, had just been read to him, in which
their names were mentioned, and he was bidden to be
not afraid, as he was going to meet them all again.
Possibly it has not occurred to us to remember that
in the "glorious company" of the Apostles, Prophets,
and Martyrs, there will be many a black face, perhaps
a majority. No page of the Church's history is more
beautiful than that which tells of the simple faith
and childlike obedience of these guileless men and
boys of the South Seas, who, without fame and re
ward, have laid down their lives in fulfilling the last
command. To them also and to their devotedness
may be applied in its higher sense, and without ex
travagance, the similitude of the poet —
" Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with
might :
Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of
sight."
Indeed, when working among them, we believed at
times that some of their young souls were as beauti-
1 Quoted from Mr Mansfield's letter.

266 The Conflict
ful blooms growing up in the shadow of the Mission,
by-and-by to unfold and astonish their countrymen.
Five of our young band we know have died, all at
their posts, and all confessing Christ, declaring plainly
that they sought a " better country." Others are
rising up to take their place, and the work of dispers
ing the darker shadows of heathenism goes forward.
Thus our expectations have in a measure been
realised. Storms have beaten on the young plants
since; some have perished, and some have become
blighted and scattered. But we expect to find them
all at the end of the days, and see them take root
again, and burst afresh into fairer blooms, on a
broader plain where storms are not.

BOOK IV.
VALETE, FRATRES!

CHAPTER I.
Farewell, my Comrades !
Wounded !
We were sitting on the verandah steps, David and I,
with our feet on the grass. It was early afternoon,
and together we were translating a hymn. A slight
cough — a crimson mouthful — then another — and the
task was laid aside for the day. There was no mis
taking its meaning. To David himself it was not a
new thing. He lay down finally a few months later,
and sleeps in the sand behind the reef, the same which
at birth sang him his first lullaby.
A dogged fight with malaria, such as we were hav
ing, — twenty-three attacks in fourteen months, — was
destined to end in some such way. Yet to leave our
post again so soon was flatly impossible. A wag rallied
us thus : —
" Very pleased to get your last letter. I always hear that
you are both well, or both got fever, but not much more.
You will finish off as fever specialists at the rate you are
going on. Every fortnight or three weeks I hear ' A.'s letter
came to-day; she seems cheerful and well. B. has fever
again.' The next month it is reversed — the 'cheerful'
remaining constant. Do you take them (the attacks) for a
change? — anything to break the monotony?"

270 Valete, Fratres!
The fever itself was getting monotonous, and at
length the medicines failed to down it. The sick had,
nevertheless, to be nursed and tended, often in the
low and miserable village huts, where one must inhale
the odours and breathe the dust of contagion. Hence
it is that medical men live the shortest of lives, for they
are always in the firing line.
So, after the brief conflict of less than four years,
one had to submit, so to speak, to being carried off
the field, and to give place to another. But no true
soldier will complain of his wounds.
But how one lives over again the stirring scenes !
In the soldier's memory the blood still flows red and
the field is ever green. The guns still boom, and the
smoke hangs low, a dense grey wall. He can see only
the few comrades around him. But thereby the scene
is more vividly depicted on the intensely active brain,
and lives again on canvas or in story.
Thus in the pages that remain I shall try to recall
some of the final scenes of that brief period, and to
portray those with whom we were more closely associ
ated. For we were all comrades, though in different
degrees, fighting a common foe.
Only some five years have passed since we came
away, and they are all, save one, dead and gone — the
old chiefs who ruled along the shore and up the valley.
There were seven of them, grand old fellows in their
day and generation. Mal-Bongnaun was the last to
go, the tallest of them all, and the stoutest, if we
except big, merry, mischievous Pungpung-Melun, of
Henyal. Mai was also the best of them all, a wise
counsellor and a good. Joint chief of Fanting with
Mal-Pangkumu, he seemed not to care a whit about
ruling; and for that very reason he was possibly the

Farewell, my Comrades! 271
greater chief. He was pointed out as the man who
had saved the lives of enemies by pleading for them.
Recognised as the doctor until he had all but poisoned
one of our men with a bolus for incurable asthma, he
showed no resentment at the waning of his power.
Absolutely blind, he usually gave the end of his long
staff to one of the young boys to lead him about ; and
proud they were of the distinction. His eyes were too
far gone for operation, and the volcanic ash was irri
tating. He came at times to get his poor globes
washed, and would pillow his head on the grass and
wait patiently for the dropping of the cooling lotion
and the healing oil.
Once and again, even in the early days, he was led
to our door, and the little guide cried his name —
" Doctor, Doctor, . . . Mal-Bongnaun ! "
Then with beaming face, the smile shining even in
his white and sightless balls, he would declare that he
was glad he had heard the good news, and was going
to be a true man and live the good life. He would
then add a promise to attend service on the morrow —
" I am coming : see, I have washed already."
Having then concluded his greeting, the gentle,
dignified old fellow was led on his way.
But there was one chief who never once attended
church — Werwer- Melun, of Melbongan — the most
dreaded man in all the valley. Once on a time,
during a feud, he had coolly walked into Fanting,
shot his man, and coolly walked out again. He and
his people lived far up under the cliffs at the farthest
corner. Even Mal-Bongnaun shook his head when he
heard that we were going thither. At our first visit on
a Sabbath morning, a black head appeared over the
stockade cursing us for our temerity. Our guide's

272 Valete, Fratres!
father had to pay a fine for him for intruding, and
to ward off the dreaded " aple." At our second, no
one was to be seen. At length a man — we might call
him a devil, for such he looked — crept out of the woods
above us and came stealthily towards us, bearing a
loaded musket and girt with a belt of cartridges. His
hair was trimmed devil -wise, as represented in some
pictures, — a ridge above the brow, and again above
each ear — the badge of a murderer proud to be able to
name and count his victims. As he glided towards us
in snake-like fashion, with a look as malevolent as he
could make it, our boys were about to show him their
heels. But we all stood our ground and invited him to
come and talk. Sulkily he laid aside his musket and
came nearer. Some more out of the woods joined
him, and we all sat down together. Having explained
our mission and sung our message, we had some lively
conversation, and parted good friends. It was the
beginning of many happy visits.
Melbongan was destined to give us a surprise. One
Saturday morning a bright new yellow strap was put
on our black retriever to serve as a collar. Within an
hour it had disappeared. We were concerned about
the apparent theft, for we never allowed an offence of
this kind, however small, to pass unchecked. In the
afternoon we were arranging to make inquiries after
the service on the morrow, when a little man appeared
at the stile bending under a huge bunch of bananas.
These he laid at my feet.
" Master, will you sell me the dog's strap ? "
" Why ? Did you take it ? "
" Yes. My little boy saw the dog on the beach this
morning, and he cried for the strap so much I could
not refuse him. I am too fond of him."

Farewell, my Comrades! 273
" But that was like stealing ! "
" No, master. Me no steal." And his eyes fell.
" Suppose you say so, I will bring it back."
"No, no. You may have it. That," pointing to
the bananas, "will make it right."
Thus to our surprise we found the jewel honesty
sparkling in the darkest corner of the valley. He had
been worrying about the strap all day, and had
hastened to his garden above the cliffs to get the
wherewithal to pay for it.
The chief himself came down to us on two occasions
only. The first of these was to welcome back and
escort up the valley a youth who had returned from
Queensland. In fact, at his request we had written
for the young man, Nakon, to return. He landed
at the station with some other lads; nevertheless his
hereditary foes gathered round him like wolves. In
mortal fear he was handing out the contents of his
chest, trying to satisfy their rapacity. Seeing this,
I closed down the lid with a snap, and sent for
Wer-wer. He soon arrived with some armed fol
lowers, who, according to rule, left their muskets
outside the gate. We seized the opportunity, and
made Mai and his greatest foe shake hands.
Now Nakon had a " fish " eye, by which is meant
that one of his eyes was opaque and white like the
eye of a boiled fish. The natives regarded such an
eye as indicative of a bad character, and Nakon
helped to give colour to the opinion. We soon found
him to be shifty, unreliable, and false. His constant
presence on the station was undesirable, and we
declined to engage him. Wanting to show his con
tempt, he one day found a loaded musket in the bush
close by, left there for a few minutes by its owner,
s

274 Valete, Fratres !
a youth from another village. Nakon shouldered it,
and therewith strutted across the grounds under our
very noses.
" Now where are your regulations ? " Such was
the defiance expressed in every strut.
In a moment we were after him, hot foot, and seized
the musket. A wrestling- match followed, in which
Mr Mansfield also soon bore a hand. Nakon was no
match for two, but he still held on.
" You leeb 'im [leave it, let go] ! You leeb 'im !
He no belong me ! "
" Whose is it, then ? "
" His," pointing with his foot to the young man
who was quietly sitting on the ground close by.
" Is this your gun ? "
" Yes ! "
" Come and take it then, and put it inside the
Mission house." He obeyed.
A few days later Nakon came down with a body
of men to demand the musket, and if need were to
wrest it from us by force. But they had more
common-sense than he, and listened to reason. We
would give the musket to none but their chiefs ; and
the chiefs must pledge us their assistance in keeping
order. " Now, go you, Nakon, and bring them down."
Nakon was not game, and slunk off into the bush,
ridiculed by his companions, and threatening to do
great things.
The assistants were both concerned about the
matter, and thought there might be some danger in
withholding the weapon. However, towards evening
about ten days afterwards we saw H.M.S. Dart com
ing up to the anchorage. We always managed, if

Farewell, my Comrades! 275
possible, to have all differences settled before a war
ship came. So two of us hurried up the valley after
the chiefs. Wer-wer came down, followed by a
number of men from both villages in single file. As
we wrote out the pledge under the lamp for him to
sign, a curious sight presented itself. It was the
anniversary of the French Republic, and as the night
deepened, Lifu-John began to fire off his musket in
honour of the day.
Bang! Down went the dreaded chief on his palms till his
forehead all but touched the lime floor.
" I won't fight any more ; I only walk about [i.e.,
on business or pleasure bent]."
Bang! Down he went again.
" I won't fight any more ; I only walk about."
And thus with each shot the action was repeated
till the paper was signed and they were free to go ;
which they did, disappearing into the woods like a
flash, and being escorted to a safe distance.
The doctor had come ashore in uniform and signed
the document as a witness, his presence adding not
a little to the dignity of the procedure.
In such a way we tried to win these wild men and
keep them under hand, and in some measure were
successful. As for Wer-wer-Melun, he showed his appreciation
of the message of love and goodwill by patient listen
ing, and by sending us away each time loaded with
presents of food. Finally, he gathered up all the sick
in the village and either brought them down or sent
them down in a body for treatment.
Of one of the seven, Toktok-Mal, we saw but little.

276 Valete, Fratres!
He rarely even passed through the Mission grounds —
a tall, thin, white-haired old heathen, always accom
panied by two or three of his chief men and carrying
a large white umbrella. Always hasting, full of im
portance, with staccato speech and stilted walk, to
us he was never more than a passing shadow.
Another, who might have been bracketed with him
for age, was Vir-Mal, the chief of the village nearest
to the Point. He was in his dotage, a pleasant old
soul, with a pate always nodding, as bald and round
as a cricket ball, and, like it, often bearing evidence
of contact with the ground. His voice was like a
melancholy, not displeasing, echo from the far-away
past. Whether it was that he was an adept at fencing
questions, or that he wished to be polite and to discuss
only a subject worthy of chiefs, his talk was of pigs,
and of pigs only.
" Good-day, Mai. How are you to-day ? "
He looked up, his black beady eyes set round with
a smile. " What do you think of our pigs ? They are grand."
He never gave one a foot-hold. Another time it
was —
"Well, Mai, what would you like to-day? "
" Mashes [matches]." As soon as his hands closed
over the box he went on —
" I once had a little black pig . . ."
Again, the day was raw and chilly, and I wondered
that his unprotected body was not shivering.
"No fire, Mai?"
" Well, mashes are good — and so are pigs  "
" Do your boys never tell you what we talk about
in school, Mai ? "
He looked at me.

Farewell, my Comrades! 277
" My father once had a pig . . ."
We wondered when we should get behind the barrier
and reach his affections. The day at length arrived.
There was in the village a fair-skinned little fellow,
the Benjamin of the chiefs family, and dear to the
old man's heart. He astonished us all, and his own
people not the least, by forsaking the village and
coming to live at the station. Though only about
twelve years old, he was considered to have reached
man's estate, and no attempt was made to oppose his
will. In response to all enquiries as to why he did
this, he looked up with frank open eyes and gave the
one clear answer —
" I want to know God ! "
It gave Mai a new and deeper subject to think
about. Instead of opposing the lad, he came with
feeble steps the whole way to the station, — the first
and only time he was there, — reasoned quietly with
him for a while, and then took a long, subdued, and
affectionate farewell.
To reach Vir-Mal's village along the shore, we had
to pass Mala-Melun's. Him we saw often, yet knew
but little. His tall, thin, yellow body was surmounted
by the queerest headpiece to be seen on the island :
a flat face, all wrinkles ; small quizzing eyes ; mouth
like that of a fish ; and a fringe of short black curls
like corkscrews dangling singly all around his head.
Taciturn to a degree, he answered more by his grim
laconic smile than by words. He seemed seriously
to doubt if the new teaching would have a favourable
effect in preventing the dwindling away of his people ;
yet he was always ready to seek our assistance in
preventing strife. But if a man's first duty is to mind
his own business, Mal-Melun did not fail as a man.

278 Valete, Fratres!
For he ever gave one the impression, by his quiet,
reserved manner, that he was able to mind his own
affairs and expected you to do the same.
Despite his cold, flinty manner, he had a tender
heart. I once found him alone, leaning over a wall
to hide his grief, and sobbing to himself like a child.
For Death was laying a cold hand on another of
Mai's young men. A short distance away the youth,
painted and decorated, was lying on the chill, wet
earth, waiting, nay striving, to depart. We sang him
a song in his own tongue whereon he might rest
his soul, and went quietly on our way.
For the natives, like ourselves, sought to strengthen
and steel their souls for the last, lone walk. To them
it was- not, as with us, so much a walk through the
" valley of shadow," as a lonely passing along a track
through dark woods frequented by evil spirits. These,
the ghosts of evil men, restless and unresting, armed
with snares and long poles with hooks, lie in ambush.
They grapple conscience-stricken souls as these haste
fearfully along, seizing them from behind, dragging
them into darkness, and thrusting them down to hell.
Hence, when a man feels that he is about to die,
he is painted and ornamented with all the insignia
of the rank he may have attained. He wishes to die
thus, that the spirits may recognise his rank as he
passes by. So it sometimes happens that a man is
carried out and laid on the ground, and wailed and
wept over day after day, he each day lying and
writhing and trying to die, and starving himself to
hasten the end.
But rank alone will not protect. A clean life is
necessary. And there is, as we have already noted,
one supreme virtue whose merit is most powerful —

From a Photograph taken on Malekula by John Marden^ LL.D.
THE SYMBOL OF IMMORTALITY.

Farewell, my Comrades! 279
generosity. Thus, when a chief dies, he gives away
all his property, principally yams and pigs, to be
feasted upon. For nearly a year before his death
Mai - Pangkumu had been prepared. He was now
known as Mal-Mato, "the patriarch Mai." He had
reached the zenith of his ambition, and possibly re
garded himself as the highest chief of all.
When, during the struggle for supremacy, we had
definitely decided to pay Mai for the land in his own
coin, we prepared to do it handsomely, and sought
far and wide for a respectable tusker, the best that
his money could buy. And when at length he was
offered his choice, he turned round with a smile
and said —
" We two are friends. I am a great chief. A chief
does not take payment from his friend."
The tusker had to be sent back, and the five
sovereigns were ultimately dropped into the industrial
fund. Preparations were now being made for his last feast
and his final " maki." For days he went about with
his arms covered with tusks. At the feast he reviewed
his past life, recounting the steps by which he had
climbed, the cost of rank, and the power attained.
Thereupon he discharged his debts in full. Hence
forth let no man trouble him. His work was done.
What now remained ? What but flight ? And so
a great bird was carved with outstretched wings and
placed above the "maki." It was the symbol of
farewell, and of immortality.
And Mai, feeling that the time of departure was
near, had actually provided himself with a card of
introduction to Heaven — i.e., Paradise. The finest
tusker he ever possessed had been donated for this

280 Valete, Fratres!
purpose. He hoped that by bearing the tusks in his
hand at death he would prove his generosity, and
would pass along the track safely.
But as the time drew on his conscience was not
satisfied. He would make doubly sure. We had gone
away for a year in the vain hope of recovery. Again
and again he sent for Mr Mansfield.
" When will my friend be back ? Write to him to
come quick ! "
The weeks passed, and he could wait no longer;
he must tell out his burden.
" I want you to bury me in a box [coffin]."
" But, Mai, here we do that only for Christians."
It was done as a mark of respect to our faithful
teachers. " I know ; pray Jesus to help me, and bury- me so."
This was done, and according to his own wish the
heathen ceremonies and wailings were dispensed with
that he might be buried so. Not yet content, the
coffin must be made ready and brought to his side.
This was done. Thus, with his hands clasping what
to him were symbols not of death but of immortality,
he went his way. After death the tusks were to be
taken out of his hand and kept for " his friend."
They are my best -valued curio. Let us hope that
he passed along the spirit track safely, and found an
" abundant entrance " at the end of his journey.
The curtain has fallen swiftly upon these men,
and with them many of the old customs and usages
have passed and are passing away. None of the
chiefs were baptised. The time for that had not yet
come. Nevertheless of some of them may we not say,
" These died, not having received the promises, but
having seen them and greeted them from afar." And

MAL'S CARD OF INTRODUCTION TO HEAVEN.

Farewell, my Comrades!

281

we anticipate that the acquaintanceship so rudely
interrupted here will be resumed under fairer con
ditions in some part of Hades, — if not in Paradise,
in its environs.
When our eyes last rested on Ambrym in farewell,
a black cloud of ashes from the volcano was travelling
slowly westward. It trailed its skirts across the island,
fertilising and besmirching what has been described
as "perhaps the most beautiful of Melanesian land
scapes," its finer particles floating away into the
upper strata, to gather mists and bring down fruitful
showers, here and far away.
So cometh the Angel of Sorrow in her black disguise,
blasting all our present hopes, yet bringing within her
hidden folds a richer blessing, a deeper faith.

LETE FRATRES

MAL'S SYMBOL OF FAREWELL.
"WHAT NOW REMAINED? WHAT, BUT FLIGHT?"

282

CHAPTER II.
The Old Mai of Naubu.
It was two o'clock on Sunday afternoon, and the bell
had just rung for school, when Lieutenant Fullman,
Will, and I, with Albert, stepped over the stile and
turned up the valley. Fullman was the navigating
lieutenant of H.M.S. Turnagain, which lay at anchor
in the roadstead. He was one of the best built men
I have ever met, well-proportioned, and slightly under
six feet. A man of weight in trunk and limb, whom
no light gust could shift from his path. Withal, he
was youthful and agile ; hair dark, eyes dark blue,
face ruddy and as full of fresh life as the sun and
sea air could make it. A perpetual pleasantness,
almost amounting to a smile, hovered over his well-
formed features. Physically, and possibly in other
senses too, he was one of the few who deserve the
term, " God's Englishman."
During the week he had been generously assisting
Mr Mansfield by blasting and removing some coral
rocks that blocked the boat passage. Will, too, must
be lending a hand. He had come over in the war
ship on a brief visit. And we had arranged to-day
to walk together to Naubu, to see the old Mai, who
was reported to be dying.

The Old Mai of Naubu 283
We chatted pleasantly as we walked along, single
file, and took notice of the big nettle tree at the
corner of the Mission ground, where, some three years
before our arrival, the last cannibalism occurred at
this end of the island. A returned labourer from
Queensland, said to be a convert, was there treacher
ously shot in the back by those who had volunteered
to escort him home ; and his body was divided and
distributed among the salt-water villages to be eaten.
But to return to the old Mai. As we went along
I told Will and Fullman how I had come to know
him. Some two years previously, Malkon, the virile
reigning chief of Naubu, had sent for me to attend
his favourite wife. She was very ill, in fact far gone
with consumption of the throat. He had washed her
face and sponged her chest, and had her sitting in
state on a mat outside her hut, awaiting my coming.
Evidently he was very fond of her, and attended to
her wants himself, waiting on her as if she were, as
in fact she was, his princess. When news came of
her death I feared the result, knowing that fighting
and bloodshed would follow.
So one morning at dawn we manned the boat and
proceeded to the south coast, determined to interview
Malkon and check the strife. Fighting had already
begun. In the villages we passed through the people
were all armed, and afraid to stir. Even our own
boys were not quite fearless. Indeed, as we drew
the boat up on a bank of broken coral, and turned to
enter the thick bush, George — good, gentle George —
armed himself with a blue cobblestone as large as
his hand could grasp. But before we had gone far
along the track a feeling of shame awoke. None
of the others had picked up a stone. Soon the feel-

284 Valete, Fratres!
ing travelled down to those finger-tips ; they relaxed
their hold, and, without a word, the cobblestone was
hurled into the shadows among the myrtles and
ferns. To be unarmed was ever our best armour. So we
then found. At one moment we came face to face
with an ambush of rifle-barrels and poisoned arrows.
They discovered their mistake in time, and, with
a burst of laughter to cover their discomfiture, they
hid the weapons among the tall grasses with lightning
speed. Again, on stepping into Naubu, the sentries,
in black and white, fled with a shout, paint and all.
The Old Mai and Malkon came out of their huts,
surprised. Malkon was very cross. Had he not
threatened to shoot us if we interfered ? But a threat
was always an intimation that we were needed. His
dignity as a great chief was hanging in the balance ;
and how could he ever lift up his face again unless
he shot somebody for the death of his wife ? Though
we sat a long time on the fallen drum beside his
"war-war," pleading and reasoning with him, and even
uttering a warning, our mission seemed in vain.
In the meantime George was busy with the Old
Mai. As we turned homewards I remarked —
" You were having a pleasant chat with Mai,
George ? "
" Yes," he replied, " and what do you think he
told me ? That every night as the sun sets over
those distant hills [of Malekula], he comes to the
door of his hut, looks up to the sky, and prays the
great Father to take care of him."
" But," said Fullman with surprise, " is he not
what you would call a cannibal chief?"
" Yes, and Naubu is a stronghold of heathenism ! "

The Old Mai of Naubu 285
As, to-day, we went along to see the Old Mai again,
I pointed out the grey stone cliff split into three pillars,
which project conspicuously from the mountain-side
behind the station. To the people on the sea-shore
the gaps between the pillars are the gates of heaven
and hell, through which the souls of the dead pass
to their destinies. We climbed the mountain -side
in silence, as the effort requires all one's breath.
Having reached the dividing ridge, we had a good
look at Mount Marum, the volcano. To the people
on the plateau the burning crater is the mouth of
Hades and the path of departing souls. This differ
ence in belief emphasises the fact that, from the time
successive tribes arrived and gained a foothold on
the island, each has been cribbed and confined by
fighting and fear within very narrow limits.
In crossing the plateau we observed the gaping
cracks in the soil caused by recent earthquakes, and
came upon the lava stream where it had stopped
in its course. Near by was a hillock, part of which
had been washed away, revealing the strata. During
the destruction of the central mountain, there must
have been a rain of stones the size of walnuts for a
considerable period. During a later period the stones
were the size of filberts; and over all was a layer of
ashes about a foot deep. Volcanic activity had been
intense. We came to a clear space on the track as if the
latter had suddenly expanded to a width of three
or four yards. The dust, too, had been carefully
smoothed over. Fullman stopped.
" What does this mean ? " he asked.
"That is where some chiefs have met and had
a talk. They sit down to exchange news and discuss

286 Valete, Fratres!
their views. Before doing so, they clear the ground
and make sure there are no poisoned arrow-heads
hidden there. Moreover, when the conference is past,
each man carefully smooths over, with the soles of
his feet, the spot where he was sitting, so that not
a hair shall remain for an enemy to pick up. They
fear witchcraft and poisoning."
At length we reached Naubu, and were directed
to the Old Mai. Shrivelled up and thickly begrimed
with the black dust, he appeared a picture of heathen
neglect. The roof of his little hut, old as his Mal-
ship, and tarred and shining with the smoke of many
years, was dropping through and full of holes. Pack
ing myself and my white flannels into as small a
compass as possible, with Albert to help in trans
lating, we squeezed through the small door and crept
into the " bul," or hole, in which he half lay, half
sat, on the damp earth.
"They say you are going to leave us, Mai?"
"Yes. I think I am dying."
" Do you know anything about the place whither
you are going ? "
"I do," came the surprising answer; "I have been
there before."
Then he explained to us in his low voice that he
was going to the place he once saw in a dream.
His spirit had descended through the fires of the
volcano to the world of spirits. Nearing that strange
region, he met a chief, and, chief-like, they cleared
a space and sat down on the clean track to talk.
This man told him of various regions in the far
country, — of an ocean of fire, of a place of waters,
where men are washed and purified. As we listened
we were reminded once more of the thoughts of

The Old Mai of Naubu 287
Greece and Rome — of Acheron and Phlegethon, the
rivers in Tartarus.1
Mai's heart was filled with the desire to see more
of that wonderful world ; but the man said —
" No ! When you die you shall come hither again.
I shall meet you, and guide you then to these
mysteries." So Mai was dying in the hope of meeting his guide
again after death.
" Once," he continued, " I was nearly dead ; but
the old men and my many friends caught me by the
hands and drew me back; and the people wept and
wailed, and would not let me go."
"Who was the chief that guided you, Mai?"
" I know not ; but of this I am persuaded : He is
true, and I shall meet him there again."
1 Compare Socrates in the ' Phgedo ' : —
' ' The third river rises between these two, and near its source falls into a vast
and fiery region, and forms a lake. . . . Those whose lives seem to have been
neither very good nor very bad . . . proceed to the lake. There they dwell,
and are punished for the crimes which they have committed, and are purified
and absolved."— F. J. Church.
Compare also Anchises in the ' ^Eneid ' (Bk. vi.) : —
"And when the mortal life is ended, yet are not men quit of all the evils of
the body, seeing these must needs be put away in many marvellous ways. For
some are hung up to the winds, and with some, their wickedness is washed
out by water, or burnt out with fire. But a ghostly pain we all endure."
—A. J. Church.

288

CHAPTER III.
Will's last Climb.
It was a hot night. I was lying on the cane couch
in the sitting-room. Doors, windows, and ventilators
were thrown wide to welcome the evening breeze.
Another attack of fever. The usual remedies had
been applied ; perspiration was coming freely, and
the temperature falling. As a rule, we don't think
much of the fever, but have to be on our guard.
The report of a gun aroused us all, and a light
was seen outside the reef. In less than half an hour
a note was brought in. It was written in pencil, ap
parently by a trembling hand, and read as follows : —
The Heights, Foam Bay.
Please, Doctor, come at once if you can. Will seems
•dangerously ill. I am little better. Fever, we think ; but
the remedies seem powerless. Please come. Dick will
bring you in his cutter. Madge Goddard.
Friday afternoon.
The cutter had been six hours in coming, the wind
being fair. If we could get away at once, Dick hoped
to reach our destination sometime during the next
forenoon, provided wind and sea, which were right

, Wills Last Climb 289
in our teeth, did not get worse. Mansfield rapidly
gathered the bags and such things as might be re
quired. After a little hasty refreshment, the fever
having fallen to 1010, we hurried down to the beach,
and pushed off. In a few minutes the cutter was
under way, and, driven along by occasional strong
puffs of wind which came rushing down the moun
tain sides, she quickly rounded Dip Point and reached
the open. There the wind and sea, as Dick had
feared, were right in our teeth. A miserable night
was before us, a night of pitching and tacking, and
of futilely thrashing the sea. The white -topped
rollers swept past us, now breaking on this bow,
now on that. Anon she staggered under the blows,
and again charged ahead right gallantly. There was
no fun in getting drenched ; so I dropped into the
hold and lay on the ballast of cobble-stones, to sleep
off the fever and to be better fitted next day for
the grim fight with Death.
And what of Will ? It happened on a Friday even
ing, just a week past. He was filling up his stock
bottles with cough, salts, and quinine mixtures. A
native lad, in great excitement, bounded on to the
verandah and called for the " missionary." He
brought word that a young man in his village, while
shooting fish with dynamite, had been too slow in
throwing the cartridge into the water. The fuse
was short, and the charge had exploded in his hand,
blowing away his arm. He was bleeding to death.
" Would the missionary come quick ! "
Will would not wait to take his tea, but, putting
his pocket-case and a few items into a hand-bag,
hurried away. His preparations were few, for he
expected to be back soon after dark. Catching up

290 Valete, Fratres!
a couple of biscuits to eat by the way, one of which,
of course, he afterwards gave to the boy, he was
soon lost to sight down the track. They had to
cross a number of gullies, down the steep sides of
which, in times of storm, the water rushed to the
sea, bearing on its bosom, and trailing in its depths,
branches and huge boulders, to be piled up in great
heaps on the flat below. The village was about
four miles away, and was finally reached, after a
stiff climb, at the top of a slippery ridge overlooking
the sea. The soil was a soapy clay, black and yellow,
and the footing treacherous, — very unlike the ashes of
Ambrym, which the rain binds together, firm, clean,
and elastic, so that to walk is a pleasure. Here it
was a pain.
Lying on the ground outside one of the huts, Will
found his patient. The poor fellow was only half
conscious, and lay with his shattered limb in a bucket
of water. The chief, who with some of his men was
standing near trying to encourage the sufferer, ex
plained how the accident had happened, and pointed
to the trail of blood which led down to the beach.
Will lifted the arm gently out of the bucket. The
forearm was not blown off as he had been led to
expect, but the hand and wrist could not be dis
tinguished, and in their place was a tangle of ribbons.
At the sight the chief grew pale, and turned away.
He was about to swoon, when Will, not wanting a
second patient, quick as thought hit him a sharp slap
on the shoulder that nearly sent him on his face.
The chief, stung to wrath by what seemed an insult,
swung round, club in hand, to find his assailant. He
was met by the bucketful of blood and water which
Will sent flying over the open ground. Then, facing

Wills Last Climb 291
the chief with a smile, and holding forward the bucket,
he said —
" More water, Massing ! "
" Hawan ! " [Yes !] said he, grasping both the bucket
and the situation, and hurrying off to fill it himself
at the spring. Thankful that he had not been allowed
to show his weakness, he came back, with the water,
in a gracious frame of mind.
" All right, Massing ? " asked Will.
The chief smiled and responded with a glance of
his eyes. Then, dropping on the ground on the op
posite side of the injured youth, he became a willing
assistant. In a short time the limb was trimmed, dressed, and
bandaged ; and the youth was lifted into the hut
and attended by some of his companions. The boat
would come for him next day.
As for Will, he was wet through with perspiration,
and shivering. The wind had risen, and the rain
was pelting down. It was the hot season, and a
storm was brewing. The night had closed in rapidly,
and there was no hope of getting home through the
pitchy darkness. To make matters worse, he had
forgotten to bring a change of clothing : to carry such
was his usual custom, even in fine weather. In this
climate perspiration is so free, and evaporation so
rapid, that one may get a chill while resting in the
shade of a tree. And to be exposed in a wet shirt
to a draught, or to a fresh breeze in dull, rainy
weather, is to risk an attack of " blue shivers,"
followed with high fever. So was it with Will. He
made his way to the chiefs hut, a draughty, leaky
little hole, with a wretched fire consisting of a few
wet smoking embers. Here he had to spend the

292 Valete, Fratres!
night, unable, for want of space, to stand up or
walk, — weak, hungry, and perishing with cold. The
conditions were too miserable even for conversation,
and the noise of the storm made it impossible. At
last, after singing with them some hymns, he coiled
himself up on a few plaited cocoa-nut leaves laid on
the ground, and tried to sleep. But the mosquitoes,
as keen-eyed as sharks for a white skin, began their
torture, and kept it up till the day broke and the
storm had ceased.
Stiff and weary, Will dragged himself homeward
through the still dripping woods. He was hot enough
now without the sickening beams of the morning
sun, which soon overtook him on the track, and pur
sued him mercilessly. He arrived at the boat-house
utterly exhausted. How he was to reach the mission-
house he knew not, and, but for his loved ones,
scarcely cared. If there are advantages there are
also disadvantages in building on a hill, and many
of the stations are thus built. At this juncture his
faithful little pony, "Boy," came to his aid. "Boy"
was a chestnut, and had been brought to the Islands
when little more than a foal. Sighting his master
through the trees, he trotted up with joyful neigh-
ings, and, as if diagnosing trouble, began to lick
his hands. He, too, knew what sickness meant,
and carried a big scar on the near fore-leg. He had
been attacked by a shark in wading round a point.
Too weak to climb on to his back, Will threw his
right arm over the pony's neck and gripped the mane.
With a " Come, Boy ! " the wise creature slowly moved
forward, and supported him up the steep and winding
path. We sometimes admit sympathy in animals ; yet if

Wills Last Climb 293
we watch we may find it where we least expect.
Cattle, for instance, are supposed to be the stupidest,
most unfeeling of living creatures. Even in them we
may be agreeably surprised. We once had occasion,
on Ambrym, to throw the bull in order to put a ring
through his nose. He resisted violently, and the
operation was somewhat painful. After he had been
sent back through the sliprails, the cows came up to
him and began to sympathise, licking his face and
still bleeding nose. The bull began to weep ; the cows
did likewise ; and even the calves came up and joined
in, the great tears rolling down their cheeks and
dropping into the sand. Who dare deny after this
that even a cow has some of the "finer feeling"?
Will was soon rolled in blankets, and, under the
influence of quinine and hot drinks, perspiring freely.
Next day he was able to attend the service, and take
the first prayer, the head teacher doing the rest. On
Monday he prescribed for a few patients in the
dispensary; on Tuesday likewise. Wednesday and
the following days he felt weaker, and any who re
quired to see him had to go to the bed-side.
The truth was, he was getting worse. The fever
was of the remittent type. Each day he had a violent
attack with intense pain in the spine and limbs. Large
doses of quinine, up to thirty grains of the bisulphate
three times a-day, did not arrest the disease. During
the remissions the temperature failed to touch the
normal line, and in fact each day got farther away
from it. Owing to his weakness and mental pro
stration, when the drug should have been pushed, or
the hypodermic used, efforts were relaxed. His lips
became blue, eyes sunken, and skin sodden with
perspiration. His hands were numb and white, as if

294 Valete, Fratres!
seethed in a wash-tub. For hours each day, during
the height of the attack, he tossed in wild delirium.
To make matters worse, the mosquitoes were busy,
and quickly inoculated wife and child with the same
poison. Anxiety and heart -ache, the long night
watches, and the multifarious calls and duties of the
station, told rapidly on her small reserve of strength.
Towards the end of the week she began herself to
succumb. By Friday morning she was thoroughly
alarmed, and an opportunity presenting itself, sent to
Ambrym, as we have already seen. Friday evening
Will was markedly worse, and a message was sent in
haste across the water to the nearest station. The
boat could not re-cross the strait that night on account
of the weather, but in the early morning, at the risk
of his own life, the young missionary set sail, and, after
a perilous time, succeeded in crossing.
Slowly and wearily Saturday morning at last dawned
on the mission household. They were thankful for
the wind, rough though it was, as it promised some
relief from the burning heat. That morning Will could
take but little nourishment, and quickly dozed off.
As soon as possible, Madge lay down again — and slept.
How long she could not tell ; it seemed but a few
minutes. She woke with a start ; there was no sound
from the next room where her husband lay.
All was so still she became alarmed. Possibly the
very stillness had wakened her. Rising softly not to
awaken little Douglas, upon whose face the beads had
gathered, and supporting her weak limbs by steadying
herself against the wall, she glided slowly into Will's
room. Amazement struck her as her own pallor was
momentarily revealed in passing the glass. But
anxiety for her husband obliterated the impression as

Will's Last Climb 295
by a flash ; nor did she remember it again till weeks
afterwards. Will's eyes were open, and were filled with a puzzled,
anxious look.
" O God, how can I ? " he said appealingly. Then
gazing at his open upraised hands, he murmured,
" Unclean ! Unclean ! "
He was perspiring freely, too freely. She laid her
hand on his hot, wet brow, and said —
" What is it, Will ? I sponged your hands but
half an hour since."
He looked into her eyes, and the light of recognition
came slowly back.
" Madge ! Ah, it's you."
" What was the matter, Will ? "
" I must have been dreaming," he answered slowly.
" I saw a hill, oh so green ! like Eden in spring-time.
Lilies were blooming everywhere ; no other flower.
On the crown of the hill were seraphim, covering
hands and feet with their wings. Beyond was a
great city. . . ." (He paused to recover breath.)
" Up the hill there wound a path. It was thronged
. . . with young and old, robed in white. All were
noble or beautiful. Some had faces I thought I knew.
They were chanting. It sounded like ' Lift up your
heads, O ye gates.' . . .
" Nought else could I see ; only white doves and
the whiter lilies. The whole air was tremulous with
the rustle of wings and the sound of harps. . . .
"Just then two little boys, one dark, the other
fair, left the throng and ran to the slope of the hill
nearest me. They shone like stars. Somewhere they
have crossed my path ; I can't remember. . . .
They beckoned and cried — ' Ascend ! '

296 Valete, Fratres!
" But my hands were stained, and my feet soiled,
and my heart smote me within. . . .
" They saw my trouble, and pointed to the brook
which flowed between us at my feet. I had not seen
it before. It came gushing from a spring near by
an ancient cross far up the hill. The water rippled
and sang among the brown stones as it rushed along,
a widening stream. . . .
" It was then you woke me."
His wife was seated on the edge of the bed, leaning
over him, the tears running down her cheeks and fall
ing on their clasped hands, as he slowly whispered
his story.
" My angel husband, how can you ? Never were
your hands soiled with one mean deed. Never ! My
own pure-hearted man ! "
" Don't, Madge, don't. Don't say that. You know
I have not been so good as I ought. All my goodness
is His, and — and yours."
" Oh, Will, don't. You know I am not good ! "
" Better Madge, far better than I," he whispered
hoarsely. " You have helped me so much — and helped
me to be a better man. And I have given you such
a hard life ! "
As he finished the sentence his eyes filled, and,
weakened by the effort, his head sank back on the
pillow. " But, Will," she remonstrated, " I chose it." She
remembered how, in their first days together, he had
playfully woven her a ring of holly, in anticipation
of a better, and had placed it on her finger with a little
speech of warning which he scarcely believed in him
self — for youth and love are both blind. It was her
first engagement ring — a ring of thorns; and the

Will's Last Climb 297
symbol had foreshown a painful reality. But those
were days of sweetness and pure happiness, and there
had been many such since. The bond had grown in
strength with the years, and domestic sorrow had
proved a forcing-bed to the affections.
The recollection of those days had brought back a
smile and a flush to her wan and troubled face. She
was silent a-while. Then she stooped and pressed a
long long kiss on his brow, her gleaming tresses falling
about his face and neck.
Again he opened his lips to speak ; and as she bent
to catch the words, he whispered faintly —
" I did so want to serve Him a little longer, I have
done so little. And there is so much to do."
"You are not dying, Will? " she said, alarmed.
" I can't say, dear. For your sake and the boy's,

He was off again.
Then taking in with a rapid survey his sinking con
dition, she noted the change in his face and lips.
Slipping her hand inside the fold of his jacket, she
pressed it firmly over his heart. There was but a
flicker. In alarm she crossed to the window once
again. Yes ! the boat was in the offing.
" Will, the doctor's come ! "
But wind and sea had prevailed. The boat touched
the beach too late.
Will had begun the ascent.

298

CHAPTER IV.
The Gravediggers.
Chow the Chinaman, and " Hell-fire Bill," happened
to be aboard the cutter. They both knew and, in
their rough way, loved the dead man. So they
came up to the house with the request that they
might be allowed to dig the grave. Bill, indeed,
had once been nursed back to health on Will's
station ; and when he came off his bed and was
about to leave, he was disturbed in mind because
his pockets were empty, and there was no way open
to him to give a donation to the medicine fund,
and thus show his gratitude. Going up to Will, he
took off his hat and held out his hand.
" Good-bye, sir. I'll never forget your kindness.
You're doin' a grand work. Truth is, sir, we chaps
'ud like to see you made Guv'ner o' the islands."
It was the only shot he had in his locker; but,
from such an one, it was a more graceful tribute
than any gilt-edged fee.
Chow we have met before ; but where Bill had
dropped from, Heaven only knows ! He was a tall,
broad, flabby, loose-jointed fellow, with a flat nose,
and a straggly brown beard, the hairs of which
could be counted with ease, each seeming to adver-

The Gravediggers 299
tise that it had no connection with any neighbour.
His talk flowed on incessantly; anything in his
neighbourhood with the semblance of ears was suf
ficient to set him on. He had a remedy or gospel
for all the ills of life; and to condemn his gospel
was to afford him grounds for antipathy, if not
hostility. He could not string half-a-dozen words
together grammatically; but what was lacking in
grammar was made up in pungency. He was also
a capital mimic, and his nationality no one could
tell. But Bill, like the rest of his class, could restrain
himself when the keg ran dry, and could, and did,
behave like a gentleman when occasion demanded.
He might be found on any of the islands, and in
the wilder parts too. As cannibalism was coming
to an end, his carcase was in no danger; and,
being an inoffensive creature, he escaped "pig
sticking" or clubbing.
" Here, Chow, guess it's your turn now," he said,
handing the Chinaman the shovel, and throwing
himself down on the grass. " Think I'll have a
smoke," pulling out his pipe and fingering the bowl,
— " I believe in baccy. Strikes me there's more
Kerstianity in it than in half them prayers and
sermons. Roun's off the angels [angles], ye know,
an' takes the sting out o' the pricks."
He puffed away quietly for a few minutes as the
black earth dropped beside him, and then con
tinued —
" So our Dr Will's gone. Seems to me as 'ow
we've lost our best missionary. Leastways, so I
think. One as made you feel as 'ow we was all
brothers. Always welcomed you to a seat in 'is

300 Valete, Fratres!
boat, an' a plate at 'is table, an' made no dis
tinctions. " Some on 'em now 'ud build a yacht for 'em-
selves, an' travel selec'. Our tub ain't good enough.
" ' Cap'n,' ses I one day, ' Cap'n 'ave you got
those pens ready ? I'm comin' aboard.'
" ' What pens ? ' ses he.
" ' Wal,' ses I, ' I heerd as 'ow you was dividin'
up the ship for the sheep an' the goats.'
" ' Did you ? ' ses he, laughin'. ' Come aboard
then,' ses he. 'We knows where to put you, any
way.' "
The only answer from Chow, beyond a smile, was
made by the patter of the earth. So Bill went
on —" One night I was havin' a quiet pipe on the
cobra bags aft. Two o' the young fellers were
there from John o' Groats, an' were discussin'
things. Ses the younger — he was a doctor — ses he,
" ' Somebody's been a humbuggin' us. What place
is this to bring so many doctors to ? There's
nearly a dozen down 'ere o' one sort an' another ;
all wi' streamers to their names, too,' ses he. ' But
they're a trampin' on one another's toes, an' the
whole Group's a smellin' o' lotions an' powders.'
"'Indeed,' ses the other feller — he was a big
chap, an' was smokin', he was — ' 'ave you only
just found that out ? I can go one more'n that.
You're as green as a young nut,' ses he. 'You
shouldn't a dropped till you were ripe. Even a
tater's got eyes, an' knows where to strike.'
" 'Well,' ses the other feller, 'it's not fair crowdin'
so many fellers in sich a tight place. Where's those
sixty thousand cannibals ? I've been a huntin' all

The Gravediggers 301
round an' can't find 'em. Seems as how the claim's
about worked out. It's a shame,' ses he. ' If
fellers were eddicated different they wouldn't come.'
He got quite 'ot over it.
" ' Not so fast, young chap,' ses the other. ' There's
more'n you'll convert, anyway. The parties as sent
you down 'ere wouldn't mislead anybody. It's zeal
as has eaten 'em up, common-sense an' all. You'd
need to eddicate them first.' "
"You se-peak true," said Chow, pausing to wipe
the sweat from his brow.
" Ye see, mate," said Bill, " that big quiet chap
smoked. He believed in the baccy. As I said
afore, there's a lot o' Kerstianity in the pipe. It
makes a feller think, an' think well o' 'is neigh
bours. Where 'ud yer gospel be widout the quid?
It's that keeps these black fellers from fightin',
an' makes 'em smoke the pipe o' peace. S'pose
that young feller 'ad bin fond o' the pipe now,
he'd 'ave been a wiser man. After reflectin' a bit,
p'raps he'd 'ave gone to China, or the Indies, an'
got a big field, and an 'orspital, an' not a bin
buryin' 'is talent down 'ere."
"You se-peak true," said Chow again. He was
getting puffed. So Bill took a turn at the spade.
Chow could "se-peak" a little English, but it was
such jabber as few could understand; yet one
somehow absorbed his meaning.
When Bill was seated again, and, fanning him
self with his hat, was cooled down a bit, his talk
flowed on —
"Can't stand some o' they parsons. I once
planted my 'umpy down aside one on 'em. He
was a great warrior, he was ; an' the most darin'

302 Valete, Fratres!
devil as ever comed into these parts, or sailed a
boat on sea, an' bossed the niggers on land. Done
the most work o' any man in the islands, an' least
said about it. Goes into the bush preachin' an'
teachin', an' givin' 'em 'ealth lectures, an' livin' on
rice an' tea till they calls 'im ' a skinfu' o' banes.'
But he was no sound on the baccy. In conse
quence he was always fightin' ; an' my mates
can't see as 'ow he was a Kerstian."
Chow paused, took a breath, and smiled. Bill
also paused — for exactly two seconds.
" Ye see, he wouldn't let his niggers smoke. Ses
they can't love the weed an' be Kerstians. Now
that's all da-da-dashed fine nonsense. Beg pardin',"
he said, as if to the heap of earth, " I forgot
meself. " Yes, it's da-da-dashed rot. It just keeps 'em all a
spyin' one on t'other. A feller has to get to the top o'
a tree to get a smoke in peace, unobsarved like.
" But ye darn't say a word agin 'im to those sheep o'
his or they'd all turn buckin' goats, an' ye'd 'ave to
clear in no time.
" Ses I to 'im one day —
" ' Reverend sir,' ses I, ' ye've a grand plant 'ere for
makin' 'ipocrites.'
" ' How so ? ' ses he.
" ' This way,' ses I. ' Ye're makin' 'em two-faced ;
an' by-an'-by ye'll 'ave 'em all a-smokin ! '
" ' How ? ' ses he.
'"Ina hotter place,' ses I.
" He laughed. Ses he, ' You mind your own business.
Yes ; mind yerself ! ' ses he."
"You se-peak true," said Chow, who was getting
too low down to note where the speech had got to.

The Gravediggers 303
Bill looked at the head bobbing up and down, sus
piciously, and picked up a lump of earth. Satisfied by
the stolid innocence of the Chinaman, he dropped it.
" Now, Chinkee," he said, " don't you be too 'ard
on a feller. S'pose I said as 'ow I was a saint, that
tamed face o' yourn 'ud pretty soon begin to grin.
An' s'pose I was to say as 'ow I'm no good, my ticker
'ere " — placing his hand over his heart — " would say
'Stuff! ' Guess I'd better strike a mean, like the old
maid I once heard 'em tell about. She was a dyin',
an' they told her as 'ow it was the custom to lay out
the maids in white an' the married 'uns in purple.
' Which would she 'ave ? ' ' Oh,' says she, 'just dress
me in white.' But after thinkin' it out a bit, ses she,
' You might pick it out 'ere an' there with 'eliotrope.'
"Yes, I guess I'm summat like the old maid. I'm
not a dog, an' I'm not a hangel. No more was that
parson, an' all 'is kind. 'Deed, I'm feared some on
'em is past savin'. They's so good you can't teach
'em anythin'.
" Ay, an' there's that good fellow Faithful, grown
white an' totterin' wi' fever, a shepherdin' those ' pet-
lambs ' o' his. An' he won't hear no bad on 'em. Lets
'em smoke an' do pretty much as they likes. But
they's black lambs for all that, some on 'em ; an' they
do frisk ahint 'im. If he'd just look over 'is shoulder
an' catch 'em (but that 'ud be spyin' he'd say), he'd
take collaps an' break 'is 'eart, like hancient Eli. He's
a good 'un for sure. Pity he warn't less o' a saint an'
more o' a man, an' 'ud take a whiff 'imself, an' he'd
know 'em better. But there's a scale on 'is eye.
" Now Dr Will here " — Chow stopped work at the
name, and straightened himself to listen — " Dr Will
was no 'umbug. Guess he'll 'ave a front seat by-an'-

304 Valete, Fratres!
by, an' be somewhere near the big drum. He was no
horator; leastways, so they say. Couldn't net the
bawbees ; an' as fur turnin' on the waterworks, he left
that to the wimmen. But he was a terrible feller in
close grips."
The Chinaman nodded affirmatively.
" No, our Dr Will couldn't spout, but that's not
everythin'. I've 'eard 'em all, big guns an' little guns,
an' ses I, ' Spoutin's not everythin'.' Ses I to one on
'em after a gran' sermon —
" ' Sir,' ses I, 'wot you is drums in my ears so loud,
I can't hear wot you ses."
" ' How so ? ' ses he.
" Ses I, ' We're a bad lot down 'ere, no doubt, black
an' white, but you makes us out wuss [worse] than we
are.' " ' Impossible ! ' ses he.
" Ses I — lightin' me pipe quick to keep me bile from
risin' — ses I, ' I've heard tell o' a place, a burnin' lake,
where they chucks all liars.'
" ' Yes,' ses he, ' an' their smoke'll go up for ever
an' ever ! '
" ' Wal,' ses I, ' that's a good place to keep out of! '
" ' It is,' ses he.
" ' Wal,' ses I agin, ' ye'd better try my medicine.
Yer own don't seem to have done ye much good.'
" ' What's that ? ' ses he.
'"The pipe,' ses I. 'It'll 'mprove yer sight, an'
make ye feel more charitable towards yer neighbours.'
'"Don't you know,' ses he, 'that tobacco is said to
be " the worst natural curse o' modern civilisation" ? '
" ' How so ? ' ses I.
'" It's spoilin' the youth o' Europe by keepin' 'em
'appy in idleness.'

The Gravediggers 305
" ' Wal,' ses I, ' this place ain't civilised yet ; and,'
ses I, ' I believe in the baccy. It keeps savages 'appy
widout fightin'. An' p'raps it'll do the same for the
saints ; so give it a try.' Guess I had 'im there.
" But no. Ses he, ' We depend on grace to do that.'
"'Wal,' ses I, 'let me see grace a-doin' it, an' I'll
sell me pipe.' "
Bill's hand shook, and he laughed a bitter little
laugh. "It's no' the baccy," he muttered drily; "it's 'im
an' 'is as is spilin' the niggers, makin' 'em so as they
won't work [ ? slave]. An' they's fit for nuthin' but
singin' psalms, an' haxin' the minimhum wage, cuss
'em. " Some on 'em won't give us poor devils a chance o'
livin' in this world, nor in the next neither. Now Dr
Will was not o' that sort. Ses he, ' You can come an'
build yer shanty aside me here ; only,' ses he, ' see that
you give three feet fur a yard, an' a bob's worth fur a
shillin'.' "
A few pulls at the pipe, or it may have been memories
of his dead friend, calmed his nerves ; and again the
current of his thoughts flowed on.
" Now, Dr Will didn't smoke neither ; but he didn't
objeck to the pipe, nor to the smell o't. An' he'd light
a feller's pipe fur 'im when he was sick an' incompotent.
Ses I to 'im one day, ses I —
" ' Doctor, is too much smokin' bad fur a man ? '
" ' Yes,' ses he, ' an' so is too much porridge.'
"'Wal,' ses I, not to be beat, 'is much smokin'
bad?' "'Ay,' ses he, 'an' so is much beef, or much
water.' " ' Wal then,' ses I, ' 'ow much d'ye recommend ? '
u

306 Valete, Fratres!
"'Just so much,' ses he, 'as will keep your temper
sweet.' " ' Wal, doctor,' ses I, ' it takes a lot fur me ! ' An'
he went away laughin'.
" Ses I to him one day —
" ' Doctor,' ses I, ' this is a God-forsaken 'ole for
you to be in ! '
"'Bill,' ses he, 'you mustn't say that. I asked the
Almighty to make the best possible use of my life —
and here I am. It's no use praying if you don't
believe. I hope,' ses he, ' I've done nothing to thwart
Him.' " ' Wal,' ses I, ' I don't know nuthin' about prayin' ;
an' I must have me say. It's a tarnation place for
you to come to.' "
Bill was silent for a few minutes and fingered his
pipe reflectively.
" Can't understan' Providence. Sometimes don't
think He's about — leastways, not 'ere. What's He
want to take away our doctor 'ere, an' leave wuthless
cusses like you an' me ? I'd like to be somethin' a
trifle better. He's the only man as could 'ave eddi-
cated us."
Chow buried himself in the grave, trimming its sides
and levelling the floor. At length it was finished, and
he rejoined his companion.
" It don't matter, mate," said Bill, eyeing his pipe
pathetically, " we introdooced the baccy. It's a good
thing, as the missionaries 'ave found out, for they's
supplyin' it themselves now, cuss 'em. But we intro
dooced it, an' p'raps that'll count, — some, anyway."

3°7

CHAPTER V.
Was it Worth?
Thus Bill poured the vitriol of criticism over the
characters of the most outstanding men in the mission ;
and, like all such criticism to-day, it is losing its
power to bite. Some of us he apparently passed by
as being unworthy of notice. His is a fair sample
of the talk that may frequently be heard, not in this
Group only, but in any mission-field, sometimes more
appreciative, sometimes more sarcastic and pungent.
For, granting they deserve all the praise that has
been showered upon them, we must of ourselves admit
that missionaries are like other men, the same com
pound of limitations, inconsistencies, and good inten
tions. And, like other men, they resemble Nebuchad
nezzar's image: though composed of gold and silver, and
of the finest and strongest of metals, there is clay
somewhere, if only in the feet. To a certain class of
admirers this truth may be distasteful ; but it can be
so only to those whose standards are artificial, and
by whom all missionaries are viewed through rose
spectacles. If these shallow souls had been entrusted
with the writing of the New Testament, we should
never have known that Judas stole, that Peter swore,
and that Paul could equivocate.1 Yet we do not think
1 Farrar's St Paul, ii. 326.

308 Valete, Fratres!
less of Peter and Paul; nor yet of Mark, Luke, and
John, for telling us. We are more than glad they
were so human, and love them the better for their
faults ; yet not for their faults, but because, having
such faults, they triumphed over them, became saints,
and attained the highest niches of character and
achievement. Of a truth every soul of man is like a cloud floating
onward through the infinite. Be it never so white,
it must carry something of shadow. From below men
may see only the murky side, and forthwith grieve
or gird at it. But, from above, the charity of God,
like the sun, seeks and knows only its whiteness.
In His shining the murkiest cloud shall become pure
as the driven snow. We, too, must seek the sunward
aspect. The truth about ourselves may be unpalatable, but,
like a good medicine, it discharges from our system
those poisons of the blood that warp the judgment
and blur the vision. For this reason Bill's speech
finds a place in these pages. To probe the faults of
others is inglorious ; to study and correct our own is
wholesome. Having seen ourselves as others see us
and noted the facts, we may meditate thereon, and
arrive at sane conclusions. For, though we may not
intend it, the damn of the broadcloth may be more
venomous and far-reaching than that of the dungaree,
pursuing a man even to the grave — and beyond. Even
a Mission Synod is not always gifted with a sense
of justice or with judicial insight. When we can
recognise the motes in our own eyes, we may there
after, with loving hands and chastened spirit, be better
fitted to remove the beam from our neighbour's.

Was it Worth? 309
That there is truth in Bill's criticism we cannot
deny. But even to him the best friend he had in
the world was a missionary. It is said that "if a
missionary is to be tactless, he might almost as well
be bad." Well, we often are tactless, and may even
seem to have left home before cutting our teeth. We
are not so wise as we could wish, nor so good as we
would fain be. Our generalship may be bad, and our
knowledge of tactics not even elemental.1 Neverthe
less, by sincerity and sheer doggedness of character,
the work tells and the worth of the men comes to
be recognised. No other investment yields such a
glorious return. We are told that " Missionary
agency in India exceeds in importance all that has
been done by the British Government in India since
its commencement." 2 And, again, " The mission
aries have done more lasting good in Japan than all
1 The New Hebrides furnish perhaps the best instance of this. To a
population numbering about 50,000, there are the following missionaries :
Presbyterians (at last Christmas), 28 ordained men, 5 laymen, and 32
ladies. The staff included 5 Doctors of Divinity, 7 Physicians and
Surgeons (fully qualified), and 2 with M.A. degrees. Anglicans were 3 :
Priests (R.C.), 13. Total, 81. And there is plenty of work for all. The
contrast with the fewness of the workers in other fields is painful. In
Australia itself (northern and western portions) there are 145,000 ab
originals, some of them superior to South Sea Islanders, with a total
staff (omitting Catholics) of only 3 ordained, 8 lay, and 7 lady missionaries.
In New Guinea three women, without medical assistance, have been
nobly trying— in vain — to run a hospital. In India there is only one
missionary (male or female) to every 100,000 of the people. The dis
proportion is crushing. But, with the new century, a great wave is rising.
There are 4,000,000 Christian Endeavourers, and thousands of University
students organising for service. And, already, one in every three of the
world's population is professedly Christian.
" And I saw that there was an Ocean of Darkness and Death ; but an
Infinite Ocean of Light and Love flowed over the Ocean of Darkness."
2 Sir W. Mackworth Young, K. C.S.I. , late Lieut. - Governor of the
Punjaub.

310 Valete, Fratres!
other agencies combined." 1 Such praise may seem
lavish. I do not know. But, so far as my own ex
perience goes, it appears true of the Pacific.
The world may turn its searchlight on missions. It
will find a handful of sincere men and women trying,
by ways and methods weak and maybe faulty, but
trying honestly, to obey their marching orders and
to fulfil the Last Command.
Ruskin asserts that " There is always a considerable
quantity of pride, to begin with, in what is called
' giving one's self to God.' As if one had ever be
longed to anybody else ! " Yet it is the first duty
and highest privilege of every one who is conscious of
possessing a free will. So Gladstone thought when
pleading with his father to allow him to become a
preacher of the Gospel. " There can be no claim
so solemn and imperative as that which even now
seems to call to us with the voice of God from Heaven,
and to say, ' I have given mine own Son, . . . will
you not bear to fellow -creatures sitting in darkness
and in the shadow of death, the tidings of this uni
versal and incomprehensible love ? ' "
As self-love makes hell, so the first and deepest
stone underlying the foundation of all true culture is
self-renunciation. It may be a beautiful thing to see
young men and women rise and leave all to go forth
to the ends of the earth, taking their lives in their
hands. It is even more beautiful to see them stay
in obedience to filial duty, and, without plaudits or
romance, spend the best years of their life tending
1 The late Colonel Buck, Minister in Japan for the United States. In
'The New Far East' Arthur Diosy writes thus : "This humanity in war
has not always distinguished the Japanese. It is one of the best fruits of
the new spirit infused into the nation . . . ever since the adaptation of
Western civilisation commenced" (p. 117).

Was it Worth? 311
an aged parent or suffering sister. And it may possibly
be that the woman who, with all the ambition and
fitness to shine in life, is of necessity chained to the
household tub, and who bravely and resignedly goes
through with it, leaving no spot, and praising God
for the scant glimpses she may get of His goodness,
will, at the finish, be found " farthest ben." Such
women are made of the same stuff as God's best
angels. But to return to our story and to those who felt
themselves qualified to criticise. Chow, alas, finally
received his quietus in a squabble over a native woman.
As for Bill, when last we heard of him he was still a
wandering star in the black firmament.
Bill's was not the only tribute paid to the dead
man's memory. Will was a favourite with the men-
o'-war. The sailors admired a man who could handle
a boat as well as, or better than, one of themselves.
So they carved for him a memorial lectern in oak — an
eagle bearing on its outspread wings the "^Eonian
gospel," — the pedestal being rimmed with brass
engraved with the inscription —
"WHO GAVE HIS LIFE FOR THE REGENERATION
OF THESE ISLANDERS."
Moreover, here was a man who could go unarmed
where they dare not set foot unguarded by cutlass
and musket. In the early 'Nineties Will had landed
among a crowd of warriors starkly nude, all armed,
most with rifles, cocked. Others with bows and
sheaves of poisoned arrows. Now, gazing on the
islands around from the quarter-deck, wherever the
eye rested there was peace. Castaways, instead of
being speared, roasted, and eaten, were sure of a

312 Valete, Fratres!
welcome to shelter, land, and food. He had done
his part to make the islets of that summer sea
re-echo the angels' song.
But Will's influence was more than local. He
was an enthusiast for the adoption of more modern
methods, — for leaving the old ruts and getting on to
the broad highway of progress. And within four years
he saw all his plans adopted and put into operation.
From the first he had agitated for the founding of a
Training Institute for native evangelists and teachers ;
and he had lived to see it established, with a scholar
at its head. He was eager for advance, and actively
co-operated in getting English adopted as a medium
of instruction. His sympathies were strong for the
founding of a central Hospital for the Group, now
admitted to be " an untold boon to black and white."
And though he hesitated at first, he soon dipped in
his oar and pulled hard for the establishment of a
frequent commercial steam service, doing away with
the old system (which had served its day, and served
it well), of a special ship for the Mission. Thus French
annexation was effectively opposed, and traders and
missionaries brought together that they might better
know and help each other. Who dare say that his
brief work was not commensurate with his long
training ?
His path, though short, was, like Heber's, a track
of light. But his example, though meteoric in its
brightness, is of longer duration. For a time at least,
it will resemble here the pale, steady glow of one of
the planets. Hereafter, according to the transcendent
promise of Scripture, it is to shine for the countless
souls that still need guidance, as one of the stars
" for ever and ever."

Was it Worth? 313
On the afternoon of the following day we carried
forth all that was left of our friend. It was Sunday.
Gathered round the grave was a circle of white, amid
a sea of black, tear-bedimmed faces. The sky was
clouded, and the pale rays of the sun fell aslant the
mournful crowd. The storm had passed, and the
waves were stilled. In the bay the cutter, with flag
half-mast, rocked gently to and fro on the ocean
swell. No requiem was sung, for hearts were breaking.
The service for the dead, even the hymn, was read
amid silence, save for the soughing of the winds
through the woods, and the sobbing of the sea.
" He died that we might be forgiven,
He died to make us good,
That we might go at last to heaven,
Saved by His precious blood."
And now Will, too, had laid down his life for his
people, — reluctantly be it confessed, for he longed to
do greater service. On the edge of the cliff, between
time and eternity, he sleeps beneath fern -trees and
island palms, the music of the ocean reef beating in
his ears, like that "voice of many waters and of
mighty thunders " that breaks on the eternal shores.
" O true and brave,
O brave and true !
No narrow grave
Containeth you !
O true and brave !
Thou liv'st again
To lead and save
The souls of men."

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