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\13M

Sarbatli CoIlEse liStaco

BOUGHT WITH MONEY
RECEIVED FROM THE
SALE OF DUPLICATES

. (

(■•

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

NEW SIX SHUUNG NOVELS.

IRENE OF THE RINGLETS.

HOKACB WyNDHAM.

THE LAST OF HER
RACE.

J. Bloundbllb-Burton.

THE HALF-SMART SET.

Florencb Wardbn.

THE MOTH AND THE
FLAME.

Alicb Maud Mbadows.

London: JOHN MILNE.

THE CALL
OF THE SOUTH

LOUIS BECKE

LONDON
JOHN MILNE
39 HENRIETTA STREET, W.C,
- 1908

( APR29l9t9

CONTENTS.

CRA»TBIl PAOB

I. Paul the Dirsit x

II. The Old Sea Life 13

III. Tre Blind Man op Admiralty Island - - - 21
rv. NisIn Island : A Tale of the Old Trading Days 33

V. Mutinies 6x

VI. "MiNi" 69

VII. At Night 74

VIII. The Cranks of the Juua Brig .... 80

IX. "Dandy/* the Ship's Dingo 94

X. Kala-Hoi, the Net-maker ... ; - 98

XI. The Kanaka Labour Trade in the Pacific - - xo6

XII. My Friends, the Anthropophagi . - - - 115

XIII. On the "Joys" of Recruiting "Blackbirds" - 125

XIV. Making a Fortune in the South Seas - - 133
XV. The Story of ToKOLMib X41

XVI. "Lano-TS" x6o

XVII. " Ombre Chevalier '* - . . . . - 165

XVIII. A Recluse op the Bush 183

XIX. Tb-Bari, the Outlaw 191

CONTENTS

CHArTBR PAOB

XX. **Thb Dandiest Boy that ever Stood up in a

Boat " 203

XXI. The Pit of MaotI 211

XXII. VanIxi, the Strong Swimmer .... 219

XXIII. Two Pacific Islands Birds 231

XXIV. A NioBT Run Across FIoaloa Bay ... 244
XXV. A Bit of Good Luck 255

XXVI. Modern Pirates 264

XXVn. Paut6e Z74

XXVIII. The Man who Knew Everything . - . . 294

XXIX. The Pattering of the Mullet - - . - 316

CHAPTER I

PAUL, THE DIVER

'* Feeling any better to-day, Paul ? ''

" Guess Tm getting round," and the big, bronzed-faced
man raised his eyes to mine as he lay under the awning
on the after deck of his pearling linger. I sat down be-
side him and began to talk.

A mile away the white beach of a little, land-locked
bay shimmered under the morning sun, and the drooping
fronds of the cocos hung listless and silent, waiting for
the rising of the south-east trade.

" Paul," I said, ** it is very hot here. Come on shore
with me to the native village, where it is cooler, and I
will make you a big drink of lime-juice."

I helped him to rise — for he was weak from a bad
attack of New Guinea fever — and two of our native
crew assisted him over the side into my whaleboat A
quarter of an hour later we were seated on mats under
the shade of a great wild mango tree, drinking lime-
juice and listening to the lazy hum of the surf upon the
reef, and the soft croo^ croo of many ** crested " pigeons
in the branches above.

The place was a little bay in Callie Harbour on Ad-
miralty Island in the South Pacific ; and Paul Fremont

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

was one of our European divers. I was in charge of
the supply schooner which was tender to our fleet of
pearling luggers, and was the one man among us to whom
the silent, taciturn Paul would talk — ^sometimes.

And only sometimes, for usually Paul was too much
occupied in his work to say more than " Good-morning,
boss," or " Good night," when, after he had been disen-
cumbered of his diving gear, he went aft to rest and
smoke his pipe. But one day, however, he went down
in twenty-six fathoms, stayed too long, and was brought
up unconscious. The mate and I saw the signals go
up for assistance, hurried on board his lugger, and were
just in time to save his life.

Two days later he came on board the tender, shook
hands in his silent, undemonstrative way, and held out
for my acceptance an old octagon American fifty dollar
gold piece.

" Got a gal, boss ? "
. I admitted that I had.

" Pure white, I mean. One thet you like well enough
to marry ? "

" I mean to try, Paul."

" In Samoa ? "

« No— Australia."

" Guess rd like you to give her this * slug '. I got it
outer the wreck of a ship that was sunk off Galveston
in the * sixties,' in the war."

It would have hurt him had I declined the gift. So
I thanked him, and he nodded silently, filled his pipe and
went back to the Monttara.

PAUL, THE DIVER

Nearly a year passed before we met again, for his
lu^jer and six others went to New Guinea ; and our
next meeting was at Callie Harbour, where I found him
down with malarial fever. Again I became his doctor,
and ordered him to lie up.

He nodded.

" Guess rU have ter, boss. But I jest hate loafin'
around and seein' the other divers bringin' up shell in
easy water." For he was receiving eighty pounds per
month wages— diving or no diving — and hated to be idle.

" Paul," I said, as we lay stretched out under the wild
mango tree, "would you mind telling me about that
turn-up you had with the niters at New Ireland, six
years ago."

" Ef you like, boss." Then he added that he did not
care about talking much at any time, as he was a mighty
poor hand at the jaw-tackle.

"We were startin' tryin' some new ground between
New Hanover and the North Cape of New Ireland.
There were only two luggers, and we had for our store-
ship a thirty-ton cutter. There were two white divers
besides me and one Manila man, and our crews were all
natives of some sort or another — Tokelaus, Manahikians
and Hawaiians. The skipper of the storeship was a
Dutchman — a chicken-hearted swab, who turned green
at the sight of a nigger with a bunch of spears, or a club
in his hand. He used to turn-in with a brace of pistols
in his belt and a Winchester lying on the cabin table.
At sea he would lose his funk, but whenever we
dropped anchor and natives came aboard his teeth would

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

begin to chatter, and he would just jump at his own
shadder.

'^ We anchored in six fathoms, and in an hour or two
we came across a good patch of black-edge shell, and
we b^an to get the boats and pumps ready to start
r^ular next morning. As I was boss, I had moored
the cutter in a well-sheltered nook under a high bluff,
and the Infers near to her. So far we had not seen
any sign of natives — not even smoke — but knew that
there was a big village some miles away, out o' sight of
us, an' that the niggers were a bad lot, and would have
a try at cuttin' off if they saw a slant.

'* Early next morning it set in to rain, with easterly
squalls, and before long I saw that there was like to be
a week of it, and that we should have to lie by and
wait until it settled. About noon we sighted a dozen
white lime-painted canoes bearing down on us, and
Horn, the Dutchman, began to turn green as usual, and
wanted me to heave up and clear out. I set on him
and said I wanted the niggers to come alongside, an'
hev a good look at us — ^they would see that we were
a hard nut to crack if they meant mischief.

"They came alongside, six or eight greasy-haired
bucks in each canoe — and asked for terbacker and knives
in exchange for some pigs and yams. I let twenty or
so of 'em come aboard, bought their provisions, and let
'em have a good look around. Their chief was a fat,
bloated feller, with a body like a barrel, and his face
pitted with small-pox. He told me that he was boss of
all the place around us, and had some big plantations
about a mile back in the bush, just abreast of us, and

PAUL, THE DIVER

that he would let me have all the food I wanted. In
five days or so, he said, we should have fine weather for
diving, and he and his crowd would help me all they
could.

" About a quarter of a mile away was a rocky little
island of about five acres in extent It had a few
heavy trees on it, but no scrub, and there were some
abandoned fishermen's huts on the beach. I asked the
fat hog if I could use it as a shore station to overhaul
our boats and diving gear when necessary, and he
agreed to let me use it as long as I liked for three
hundred sticks of terbacker and two muskets.

" They went off on shore again to the plantations, and
in a little while we saw smoke ascendin' — they were
cookin* food, and repairing their huts. Later on in the
day they sent me a canoe load of yams, taro, and other
stuff for the men, and asked me to come ashore and
look at the village. I went, fur I knew that they would
not try on any games so soon.

" There were, in addition to the bucks, a lot of women
and children there, makin' thatch, cookin', and repairin'
the pig-proof fendn'. I stayed a bit, and then came on
board again, an' we made snug for the night.

"Next morning we landed on the island, repaired
two of the huts, and started mendin' sails, overhauling
the boats, and doin' such work that it was easier to do
on shore than on board. Of course we kep' our anns
handy, and old Horn kep' a good watch on board —
he dassent put foot on shore himself — said he was
skeered o' fever.

" The natives sent us plenty of food, and a good many

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

of 'em loafed around on the island, and some on board
the luggers and cutter^ cadgin' fur terbacker and biscuit
Of course they always carried their clubs and spears
with 'em, as is usual in New Ireland, but they were quiet
and civil enough. Every day canoes were passin' from
where we lay to the main village, and returnin' with
other batches of bucks and women all takin' spells at
work ; an' there was any amount o* drum beating and
duk duk ^ dancin', and old Horn shivered in his boots
swearin' they were comin' to wipe us out But my
native crews and I and the other white divers were used
to the nigger customs at such times, and although we
kep* a good watch ashore and afloat, none o' us were
afraid of any trouble comin'.

" On the fifth night, I, another white diver, named
Docky Mason, his Samoan wife, and a Manahiki sailor
named * Star ' were sleeping on shore in one of the huts.
In another hut were three or four New Ireland niggers,
who had brought us some fish and were going away
again in the momin'.

" About ten o'clock the sky became as black as ink —
a heavy blow was comin' on, and we just had time to
stow our loose gear up tidy, when the wind came down
from between the mountains with a roar like thunder,
and away went the roofs of the huts, and with it nearly
everything around us that was not too heavy to be
carried away. My own boat, which was lying on the
beach, was lifted up bodily, sent flyin' into the water,
and carried out to sea.

^ The duk duk dance of Melanesia is merely a blackmailing ceremony
by the men to obtain food from the women and the uninitiated.

PAUL, THE DIVER

" We tried to make out the cutter's and luggers' lights,
but could see nothin', and every second the wind was
yellin' louder and louder like forty thousand cats gone
mad, and the air was filled with sticks, leaves, and sand,
and I had a mighty great fear for my little fleet ; fur
three miles away to the west, there was a long stretch
o* reefs, an* I was afraid they had dragged and would
get mussed up.

" Thet's jest what did happen — though they cleared
the reefs by the skin of their teeth. The moment they
began to drag, all three slipped. The luggers stood
away under the lee of New Ireland, stickin' in to the
land, and tryin' to bring to for shelter, but they were a
hundred miles away from me, down the. coast, before
they could bring-to and anchor, for the blow had settled
into a hurricane, and raised such a fearful sea that
they had to heave-to for twenty-four hours. It was
two weeks before we met £^ain, after they had had to
tow and * sweep ' back to my little island, against a
dead calm and a strong current, gettin' a whiff of a
land breeze at night now an' agin', which let 'em use
their canvas. As for the cutter, she ran before it for
New Britain, and brought up at Matupi in Blanche Bay,
two hundred miles away, where old Horn knew there
was a white settlement of Germans — his own kidney.
He was a white-livered old swine, but a good sailor-
man — as far as any man who says * Ja ' for * Yes ' goes.

" When daylight came my mates and I set to work
to straighten up.

"Docky Mason's native wife — Tia — was a 'whole
waggon with a yaller dog under the team '. She first

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

of all made us some hot coffee, and gave us a rousin' ,

breakfast ; then she made the New Ireland bucks — who \

were wantin' to swim to the mainland — turn to and put
a new roof of coco-nut thatch over our hut, although it
was still blowin' a ragin* gale. My ! thet gal was a
wonder ! She hed eyes like stars, an' red lips an' shinin'
pearly teeth, an' a tongue like a whip-lash when she
got mad, an' Docky Mason uster let her talk to him as
if he was a nigger — ^an' say nuthin' — excep' givin' a
foolish laugh and then slouchin' off. And yet she was
as gentle as a lamb to any of us fellows when we got
fever, or had gone down under more'n twenty fathoms,
and was hauled up three parts dead and chokin'.

** Well, boss, we got to straights at last, although it
was blowin' as hard as ever. We had a lot o' gear on
shore in that native house, for I was intendin' to beach *
the cutter an' give her copper a scrubbin' before we
started divin' regular.

** There was near on a ton o' twist ter backer in tierces
(which we used fur tradin* with the niggers), a ton o'
biscuit in fifty pound tins, boxes o' red an' yaller seed
beads, an' knives an' axes, an' a case o' dynamite, an'
heaps o' things that was a direct invitation to the nig-
gers, an' a challenge ter the Almighty to hev our silly
throats cut. And those four or five bucks, whilst Tia
was hustlin' them around, was jest takin' stock as they
worked.

*' By sunfall the wind an' sea in the bay had gone
down a bit ; an' the bucks said that they would swim on
shore (their canoe had been smashed in the night) and
bring us some food early in the mornin'. I gave 'em a

PAUL, THE DIVER

bottle o' Hollands, an' my kind r^ards for the old
barrelled-belly swine of a chief, some terbacker fur them-
selves ; and then, after they had gone, looked to our
Winchesters and pistols, which the bucks hadn't seen,
fur we always kept 'em outer sight, under our sleepin'
mats.

" * Paulo,' sez Tia to me, speakin' in Samoan (an*
cussin' in English), ' you an' Docky an' " Star " are a lot
o' blamed fools I You orter hev shot all those bucks
ez soon ez they hed finished. Didn't you say that,
"Star"?'

" * Star' had said * Yes ' to her, but being an unobtru-
sive sorter o' Kanaka, he hadn't said nuthin' to us —
thinkin' we knew better'n him what ter do.

" We kep' a good watch all that day an' the nex' day,
and then at sunset two bucks in a canoe came off, bring-
ing us six cooked pigeons from the chief, with a message
that he would come an' see us in a day or two, and
bring men to build us better houses to live in until the
luggers and the cutter came back.

" We collared the two bucks and tied 'em up, and
then Tia made one of 'em eat part of a pigeon — ^she
standin' over him with a Winchester at his ear. He ate
it, an' in ten minutes he was tyin' himself up in knots,
and was a dead nigger in another quarter of an hour.
The pigeons were all poisoned.

" We kep' the other nigger alive an' told him that if
he would tell us what was a-goin' on we'd let him off,
and set him ashore, free.

** * At dawn to-morrow,' says he, * Baian ' (the fat old
chieO ' thought to find you all dead, because of the

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

poisoned pigeons sent to you. And then he meant to
take all the good things you have here, and set up your
heads in his duk duk house/

" Before daylight came, Docky Mason an' * Star ' an*
me hed fixed up things all serene ter give Baian and
his cannibals a doin*. Fust ev all — to show our prisoner
that we meant business, Tia held up his right hand, an'
Docky sent a Winchester bullet through it, an' told him
that he would send one through his skull ef he didn't do
what he was told.

" Then we took two empty one gallon colza oil tins,
and filled 'em with dynamite, tamped it down tight, and
then ran short fuses through the corks, and carried *em
down to the place where our prisoner said Baian and his
crowd would land. It was a little bay, lined on each
side by pretty high, ragged coral boulders, covered with
creepers. We stowed the tins in readiness, and then
brought our prisoner down, and told him what to do
when the time came. I guess thet thet nigger knew
thet ef he didn't play straight he was a dead coon. Tia
sat down jest behind him, and every now and then
touched his backbone with the muzzle ev her pistol —
jest ter show him she was keepin' awake. At the same
time he wasn't unwillin', for he hed told us thet he and
his dead mate were not Baian's men — ^they were slaves
he had captured from a town he had raided somewhere
near North Cape, and they were liable to be killed and
eaten at any time if Baian's crowd ran short of pig meat
or turtle.

" A little bit higher up, Docky Mason, * Star ' an' me,
planted ourselves with our Winchesters, an' one of our

♦•<

PAUL, THE DIVER

boats' whaler's bomb guns, which fired four pounds of
slugs and deer shot, mixed up — the sorter thing, boss,
thet you an* me jnay find mighty handy here in this very
place, if we get rushed sudden. We made a charcoal
fire, and then frayed out the ends of the dynamite fuses
so thet they would light quickly.

**When daylight came, we caught sight of nigh on
fifty canoes, all crammed with niggers, paddlin' like
blazes to where we was cached, but making no noise.
Even if they hed we would not hev heard it, fur the
wind and the surf beatin' on the reef would hev drowned
it.

" On they came and rushed their canoes into the little
cove, four abreast, and Tia prodded our buck in the back,
and told him to stand up and talk to Baian, who was in
one of the leadin' canoes.

" Up he jumps.

" ' Oh, Baian, Baian, great Baian,' he called, * the two
white men are dead in their house, and we have the
woman bound hand and foot.'

<* < Good,' said Baian with a fat chuckle, as he put one
leg over the gunwale of his canoe to step out, and the
next moment I put a bullet through him, and then Docky
Mason lit the first chaise o' dynamite, and slings it down,
right inter the middle of the crowded canoes, and before
it went off he sent the second one after it.

** Boss, I hev seen some dynamite explosions in my
time — especially when I hev hed to blow up wrecks —
but I hev never seen anything like thet. The two shots
killed over thirty niggers, wounded as many more, and
stunned a lot, who were drowned. Those who were not

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

hurt swam out of the cove, and neither Docky nor me
had the heart to shoot any of 'em — though we might
hev picked off a couple of dozen afore they got outer
range.

" Before we could stop him our prisoner jumped down
among the dead and wounded, got a long knife, an' in
ten seconds he had Baian's<head off, and held it up to
us, grinning like a cat, on'y not so nice, ez he hed jet
black, betel-nut stained teeth, and red lips like a piece
ev raw beef.

** We hed no more trouble with the niggers after thet
turn-up, you can bet yer life.

" The buck stayed with us until the luggers came back,
and a few days after we landed him at his own village —
ez rich ez Jay Grould, for we gave him a musket with
powder and ball, a cutlass, half a dozen pounds ev red
beads, and two hundred sticks of terbacker. I guess
thet thet nigger was able to buy himself all the wives he
wanted, and be a * big Injun ' fur the end of his days."

CHAPTER II

THE OLD SEA LIFE

One Sunday morning — when I was about to leave the
dear old city of Sydney for an unpremeditated and long,
long absence in cold northern climes, I went for a
farewell stroll around the Circular Quay, and, standing
on some high ground on the east side, looked down on
the mass of shipping below, flying the flags of all nations,
and ranging from a few hundred to ten thousand tons.
Mail steamers, deep sea tramps, ** freezers," colliers —
all crowded together, and among them but one single
sailing vessel — a Liverpool barque of i,ooo tons, load-
ing wool. She looked lost, abandoned, out of place,
and my heart went out to her as my eyes travelled
from her shapely lines and graceful sheer, to her lofty
spars, tapering yards, and curving jibboom, the end of
the latter almost touching the stern rail of an ugly
bloated-looking Grerman tramp steamer of 8,000 tons.
On that very spot where I stood I, when a boy, had
played at the foot of lofty trees — now covered by
hideous ill-smelling wool stores — and had seen lying
at the Circular Quay fifty or sixty noble full-rigged ships

»»

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

and barques, many brigs and schooners, and but one
steamer, a handsome brig-rigged craft, the Avoca^ the
monthly P. and O. boat, which ran from Sydney to
Melbourne to connect with a larger ship.

Round the point were certainly a few other steamers,
old-fashioned heavily-rigged men-of-war, generally pad-
dle-wheel craft ; and, out of sight, in Darling Harbour,
a mile away, were others — coasters — ^none of them
reaching five hundred tons, and all either barque- or
brig-rigged, as was then the fashion.

And they all, sailers as well as the few steamers, were
manned by sailor-men, not by gangs of foreign paint-
scrubbers, who generally form a steamer's crew of the
present day — men who could no more handle a bit of
canvas than a cow could play the Wedding March — in
fact there are thousands of men nowadays earning
wages on British ships as A.B.'s who have never touched
canvas except in the shape of tarpaulin hatch covers,
and whom it would be highly dangerous to put at the
wheel of a sailing ship — they would make a wreck af
her in any kind of a breeze in a few minutes. ''

In my boyhood days, nearly all the ships that
came into Sydney Harbour flying Britidi colours were
manned by men of British blood. Foreignersr, as a
rule, were not liked by shipmasters, and thdf British
shipmates in the fo'c'stle resented their presence. One
reason of this was that they would always **ship" at a
lower rate of wage than Englishmen, and were clannish.
I have known of captains of favourite cligper passenger
ships, trading between London and th6 colonies, de-
clining to ship a foreigner, even an English-speaking

THE OLD SEA LIFE

Dane or Scandinavian, who make good sailor-men, and
are quiet, sober, and hardworking. Nowadays it is
difficult to find any English deep-sea ship or steamer,
in which half of the hands forward are not foreigners of
some sort. And now practically the whole coasting
mercantile marine of the Australian colonies is manned
by Germans, Swedes, Danes, and Norwegians.

When I was a young man I sailed in ships in the South
Sea trade which had carried the same crew, voyage after
voyage, for years, and there was a distinct feeling of
comradeship existing between officers and crew that
does not now exist. I well remember one gallant ship,
the All Serene (a happy name), which was for ten years
in the Sydney-China trade. She was about the first
colonial vessel to adopt double-top-gallant yards, and
many wise-heads prophesied all sorts of dire mishaps
from the innovation. On this ship (she was full rigged)
was a crew of nineteen men, and the majority of them
had sailed in her for eight years, although her captain
wa$ a bit of a "driver". But they got good wages,
godd food, and had a good ship under their feet — ^a
ship with a crack record as a fast sailer.

In contrast to the All Serene^ was a handsome barque
I once sailed in as a passenger from Sydney to New
Caledonia, where she was to load nickel ore for Liver-
pool. Her captain and three mates were Britishers, and
smart sailor-men enough, the steward was a Chileno,
the bos'un a Swede ; carpenter a Mecklenburger joiner
(who, when told to repair the fore-scuttle, which had
been damaged by a heavy sea, did not know where it
was situated), the sailmaker a German, and of the twelve

•

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

A.B.'s and O.S/s only one — a man of sixty-five years of
age, was a Britisher ; the rest were of all nationalities.
Three of them were Scandinavians and were good
sailor-men, the others were almost useless, and only fit
to scrub paint-work, and hardly one could be trusted at
the whed. The cook was a Martinique nigger, and was
not only a good cook, but a thorough seaman, and he
had the utmost contempt for what he called "dem
mongrels for'ard,*' especially those who were Dagoes.
The captain and officers certainly had reason to knock
the crew about, for during an electrical storm one night
the ship was visited by St. Elmo's fire, and the Dagoes
to a man refused duty, and would not go aloft, being
terrified out of their wits at the dazzling globes of fire
running along the yards, hissing and dancing, and
illuminating the ocean for miles. They bolted below,
rigged up an altar and cross with some stump ends of
candles, and began to pray. Exasperated beyond en-
durance, the captain, officers, two Norwegians, the
nigger cook and I, after having shortened canvas,
" went " for them, knocked the religious paraphernalia
to smithereens, and drove them on deck.

The nigger cook was really a devout Roman Catholic,
but his seaman's soul revolted at their cowardice, and
he so far lost his temper as to seize a Portuguese by his
black curly hair, throw him down, tear open his shirt, and
seize a leaden effigy of St. Jago do Compostella, which
he wore round his neck, and thrust it into his mouth.
In after years I saw Captain " Bully " Hayes do the
same thing, also with a Portuguese sailor ; but Hayes
made the man actually swallow the little image — ^after

THE OLD SEA LIFE

he had rolled it into a rough ball — saying that if St
James was so efficient to externally protect the wearer
from dangers of the sea, that he could do it still better
in the stomach, where he (the saint) would feel much
warmer.

The barque, a month or so after I left her in Noumea,
sailed from T'chio in New Caledonia, and was never
heard of again. She was overmasted, and I have no
doubt but that she capsized, and every one on board
perished. Had she been manned by English sailors,
she would have reached her destination in safety, for
the captain and officers knew her faults and that she
was a tricky ship to sail with an unreliable crew.

In many ships in which I have sailed, in my younger
days, no officer considered it in/ra dig, for him, when
not on watch, to go forward and listen to some of the
hands spinning yams, especially when the subject of
their discourse turned upon matters of seamanship, the
eccentricities either of a ship herself or of her builders,
etc. This unbending from official digjnity on the part
of an officer was rarely abused by the men — especially
by the better-class sailor-man. He knew that **Mr.
Smith " the chief officer who was then listening to his
yams and perhaps afterwards spinning one himself,
would in a few hours become a different man when it
was his watch on deck, and probably ask Tom Jones,
A.B., what the blazes he meant by crawling aft to re-
lieve the wheel like an old woman with palsy. And
Jones, A.B., would grin with respectful diffidence,
hurry his steps and bear no malice towards his superior.

Such incidents never occur now. There is no feeling

17 2

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

of comradeship between officer and "Jack". Each
distrusts the other.

I have not had much experience of steamers in the
South Sea trade, except as a passenger — most of my
voyages having been made in sailing craft, but on one
occasion my firm had to charter a steamer for six
months, owing to the ship of which I was supercargo
undergoing extensive repairs.

The steamer, in addition to a general cargo, also
carried 500 tons of coal for the use of a British war-
ship, engaged in " patrolling " the Solomon Islands,
and I was told to " hurry along ". The ship's company
were all strangers to me, and I saw at once I should
not have a pleasant time as supercargo. The crew were
mostly alleged Englishmen, with a sprinkling of foreign-
ers, and the latter were a useless, lazy lot of scamps.
The engine-room staff were worse, and the captain and
mate seemed too terrified of them to bring them to
their bearings. They (the crew) were a bad type of
** wharf rats," and showed such insolence to the captain
and mate that I urged both to put some of them in
irons for a few days. The second mate was the only
officer who showed any spirit, and he and I naturally
stood together, agreeing to assist each otlier if matters
became serious, for the skipper and mate were a
thoroughly white-livered pair.

Just off San Cristoval, the firemen came to me, and
asked me to sell them a case of Hollands gin. I re-
fused, and said one bottle was enough at a time. They
threatened to break into the trade-room, and help them-
selves. I said that they would do so at their own peril —

THE OLD SEA LIFE

the first man that stepped through the doorway would
get hurt. They retired, cursing me as a " mean hound ".
The skipper said nothing. He, I am glad to say, was
not an Englishman, though he claimed to be. He was
a Dane.

Arriving at a village on the coast of San Cristoval,
where I had to land stores for a trader, we found a
rather heavy surf on, and the crew refused to man a
boat and take me on shore, on the plea that it was too
dangerous ; a native boat's crew would have smiled at
the idea of danger, and so also would any white sailor-
man who was used to surf work.

Two days later, through their incapacity, they cap-
sized a boat by letting her broach-to in crossing a reef,
and a hundred pounds' worth of trade goods were lost.

When we met the cruiser for whom the coals were
destined, the second mate and I told the commander in
the presence of our own skipper that we considered the
latter unfit to have command of the steamer.

" Then put the mate in charge, if you consider your
captain is incapable," said the naval officer.

** The mate is no better," I said, ** he is as incapable
as the captain."

" Then the second mate is the man."

'* I cannot navigate, sir," said the second mate.

The naval commander drew me aside, and we took
** sweet counsel " together. Then he called our ruffianly
scallywags of a crew on to the main deck, eyed them
up and down, and ignoring our captain, asked me how
many pairs of handcuffs were on board.

" Two only," I replied.

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

" Then I'll send you half a dozen more. Clap 'em
on to some of these fellows for a week, until they come
to their senses."

In half an hour the second mate and I had the satis-
faction of seeing four firemen and four A.B.'s in irons,
which they wore for a week, living on biscuit and
water.

A few weeks later I engaged, on my own responsi-
bility, ten good native seamen, and for the rest of the
voyage matters went fairly well, for the captain plucked
up courage, and became valorous when I told him that
my natives would make short work of their white ship-
mates, if the latter again became mutinous.

Against this experience I have had many pleasant
ones. In one dear old brig, in which I sailed as super-
cargo for two years, we carried a double crew — white
men and natives of Rotumah Island, and a happier
ship never spread her canvas to the winds of the Pacific.
This was purely because the officers were good men,
the hands — white and native — good seamen, cheerful
and obedient — not the lazy, dirty, paint-scrubbers one
too often meets with nowadays, especially on cheaply
run big four-masted sailing ships, flying the red ensign
of Old England.

CHAPTER III

THE BLIND MAN OF ADMIRALTY ISLAND

We had had a stroke — or rather a series of strokes — of
very bad luck. Our vessel, the Metaris, had been for
two months cruising among the islands of what is now
known as the Bismarck Archipelago, in the North-
western Pacific. We had twice been on shore, once
on the coast of New Ireland, and once on an unknown
and uncharted reef between that island and St. Matthias
Island. Then, on calling at one of our trading stations
at New Hanover where we intended to beach the vessel
for repairs, we found that the trader had been killed,
and of the station house nothing remained but the
charred centre-post — it had been reduced to ashes.
The place was situated on a little palm-clad islet not
three hundred acres in extent, and situated a mile or
two from the mainland, and abreast of a village contain-
ing about four hundred natives, under whose protection
our trader and his three Solomon Island labourers were
living, as the little island belonged to them, and we had
placed the trader there on account of its suitability, and
also because the man particularly wished to be quite

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

apart from the village, fearing that his Solomon Islanders
would get themselves into trouble with the people.

From the excited natives, who boarded us even
before we had dropped anchor, we learned that about
a month after we had left poor Chantrey on his little
island a large party of marauding St Matthias Island
savages, in ten canoes, had suddenly appeared and
swooped down upon the unfortunate white man and
his labourers and slaughtered all four of them; then
after loading their canoes with all the plunder they
could carry, they set fire to the house and Chantrey's
boat, and made off again within a few hours.

This was a serious blow to us ; for not only had we
to deplore the cruel death of one of our best and most
trusted traders, but Chantrey had a large stock of trade
goods, a valuable boat, and had bought over five
hundred pounds' worth of cocomut oil and pearl-shell
from the New Hanover natives, — all this had been
consumed. However, it was of no use for us to grieve,
we had work to do that was of pressing necessity, for
the Metaris was leaking badly and had to be put on
the beach as quickly as possible whilst we had fine
weather. This, with the assistance of the natives, we
at once set about and in the course of a few days had
effected all the necessary repairs, and then steered west-
ward for Admiralty Island, calling at various islands
on our way, trading with the wild natives for coco-nut
oil, copra, ivory nuts, pearl-shell and tortoise-shell, and
doing very poorly ; for a large American schooner, en-
gaged in the same business, had been ahead of us, and
at most of the islands we touched at we secured nothing

THE BLIND MAN OF ADMIRALTY ISLAND

more than a few hundredweight of black-edged pearl-
shell. Then, to add to our troubles, two of our native
crew were badly wounded in an attack made on a
boat's crew who were sent on shore to cut firewood on
what the skipper and I thought to be a chain of small
uninhabited islands. This was a rather serious matter,
for not only were the captain and boatswain ill with
fever, but three of the crew as well.

For a week we worked along the southern coast of
Admiralty Island, calling at a number of villages and
obtaining a considerable quantity of very good pearl-
shell from the natives. But it was a harassing time,
for having seven sick men on board we never dared
to come to an anchor for fear of the savage and treacher-
ous natives attempting to capture the ship. As it was,
we had to keep a sharp look-out to prevent more than
two canoes coming alongside at once, and then only
when there was a fair breeze, so that we could shake
them off if their occupants showed any inclination for
mischief. We several times heard some of these gentry
commenting on the ship being so short-handed, and
this made us unusually careful, for although those of
us who were well never moved about unarmed we could
not have beaten back a sudden rush.

At last, however, both Manson and the boatswain,
and one of the native sailors became so ill that the
former decided to make a break in the cruise and let
all hands — sick and well — ^have a week's spell at a
place he knew of, situated at the west end of the great
island ; and so one day we sailed the Metaris into a
quiet little bay, encompassed by lofty well-wooded hills,

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

and at the head of which was a fine stream of fresh
water.

" We shall soon pull ourselves tc^ether in this place/*
said Manson to Lorlng (the mate) and me. " I know
this little bay well, though 'tis six years since I was last
here. There are no native villages within ten miles
at least, and we shall be quite safe, so we need only
keep an anchor watch at night. Man the boat, there.
I must get on shore right away. I am feeling better
already for being here. Which of you fellows will
come with me for a bit of a look round ? "

I, being the supercargo, was, for the time, an idle
man, but made an excuse of " wanting to overhaul " my
trade-room — always a good standing excuse with most
supercargoes — as I wanted Loring to have a few hours
on shore ; for although he was free of fever he was
pretty well run down with overwork. So, after some
pressure, he consented, and a few minutes later he and
Manson were pulled on shore, and I watched them land
on the beach, just in front of a clump of wild mango
trees in full bearing, almost surrounded by groves of
lofty coco-nut palms. A little farther on was an open,
grassy space on which grew some wide-branched white
cedar trees.

About an hour afterwards Loring returned on board,
and told me that Manson had gone on alone to what he
described as "a sweet little lake". It was only a mile
away, and he thought of having a leaf house built there
for the sick men and himself, and wanted Loring to come
and have a look at it, but the mate declined, pleading
his wish to get back to the ship and unbend our canvas.

THE BLIND MAN OF ADMIRALTY ISLAND

" As you will," said Manson to him. " I shall be all
right, ril shoot some pigeons and cockatoos by-and-
by, and bring them down to the beach. And after you
have unbent the canvas, you can take the seine to the
mouth of the creek and fill the boat with fish." Then,
gun on shoulder, he walked slowly away into the ver-
dant and silent forest.

After unbending our canvas, we went to dinner ; and
then leaving Loring in chaise of the ship, the boatswain,
two hands and myself went on shore with the seine to
•the mouth of the creek, and in a very short time netted
some hundreds of fish much resembling the European
shad.

Just as we were about to push off, I heard Manson's
hail close to, and looking round, nearly lost my balance
and ifell overboard in astonishment — he was accom-
panied by a woman.

Springing out of the boat, I ran to meet them.

"Mrs. Hollister," said the captain, "this is my
supercargo. As soon as we get on board I will
place you in his hands, and he will give you all the
clothing you want at present for yourself and your
little girl," and then as, after I had shaken hands with
the lady, I stood staring at him for an explanation, he
smiled.

" rU tell you Mrs. Hollister^s strange story by-and-
by, old man. Briefly it is this — she, her husband, and
their little girl have been living here for over two years.
Their vessel was castaway here. Now, get into the
boat, please, Mrs. Hollister."

The woman, who was weeping silently with excite-

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

ment, smiled through her tears, stepped into the boat,
and in a few minutes we were alongside.

'' Make all the haste you can," Manson said to me,
" as Mra Hollister is returning on shore as soon as you
can give her some clothing and boots or shoes. Then
they are all coming on board to supper at eight o'clock."

The lady came with me to my trade-room, and we
soon went to work together, I forbearing to ask her any
questions whatever, though I was as full of curiosity as
a woman. Like that of all trading vessels whose ** run "
embraced the islands of Polynesia as well as Melanesia
and Micronesia, the trade-room of the Meiaris was a
general store. The shelves and cases were filled with
all sorts of articles — tinned provisions, wines and spirits,
firearms and ammunition, hardware and drapers' soft
goods, " yellow-back " novels, ready-made clothing for
men, women and children, musical instruments and
grindstones — in fact just such a stock as one would find
in a well-stocked general store in an Australian country
town.

In half an hour Mrs. Hollister had found all that she
wanted, and packing the articles in a " trade " chest, I
had it passed on deck and lowered into the boat.
Then the lady, now smiling radiantly, shook hands
with every one, including the steward, and descended
to the boat which quickly cast off and made for the
shore in chaise of the boatswain.

Then I felt that I deserved a drink, and went below
again where Manson and Loring were awaiting me.
They had anticipated my wishes, for the steward had
just placed the necessary liquids on the cabin table.

THE BLIND MAN OF ADMIRALTY ISLAND

" Now, boys," said the skipper, as he opened some
soda water, " after we have had a first drink I'll spin
my yam — and a sad enough one it is, too. By-the-
way, steward, did you put that bottle of brandy and
some soda water in the boat ? "

" Yes, sir."

" That's all right. Just fancy, you fellows — ^that poor
chap on shore has not had a glass of grog for more
than two years. That is, I suppose so. Anyway I
am sending him some. And, I say, steward ; I want
you to spread yourself this evening and give us the
very best supper you ever gave us. There are three
white persons coming at eight o'clock. And I daresay
they will sleep on board, so get ready three spare
bunks."

Manson was usually a slow, drawling speaker — ex-
cept when he had occasion to admonish the crew ; then
he was quite brilliant in the rapidity of his remarks —
but now he was clearly a little excited and seemed to
have shaken the fever out of his bones, for he not only
drank his brandy and soda as if he enjoyed it, but
asked the steward to bring him his pipe. This latter
request was a sure sign that he was getting better.
Then he began his story.

Although six years had passed since he had visited
this part of the great island, Manson knew his way in-
land to the lake. The forest was open, and consisted
of teak and cedar with but little undergrowth. Sud-
denly, as he was passing under the spreading branches
of a great cedar, he saw something that made him

«7

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

stare with astonishment — a little white girl, driving be-
fore her a flock of goats ! She was dressed in a loose
gown of blue print, and wore an old-fashioned white
linen sun-bonnet, and her bare l^s and feet were
tanned a deep brown. Only for a moment did he see
her face as she faced towards him to hurry up a play-
ful kid that had broken away from the flock, and then
her back was again turned, and she went on, quite un-
aware of his presence.

** Little girl," he called.

Something like a cry of terror escaped her lips as she
turned to him.

** Oh, sir," she cried in trembling tones, " you fright-
ened me."

" I am so sorry, my dear. Who are you ? Where
do you live?"

** Just by the lake, sir, with my father and mother."

" May I come with you and see them ? "

" Oh, yes, sir. We have never seen any one since we
came here more than two years ago. When did you
come, sir?"

" Only this morning. My vessel is anchored in the
little cove."

" Oh, I am so glad, so glad ! My father and mother
too will be so glad to meet yoa But he cannot see
you — I mean see you with his eyes — for he is blind.
When our ship was wrecked here the lightning struck
him, and took away his eyesight."

Deeply interested as he was, Manson forbore to ques-
tion the child any further, and walked beside her in
silence till they came in view of the lake.

THE BLIND MAN OF ADMIRALTY ISLAND

" Look, sir, there is our house. Mother and Fiji Sam,
the sailor, built it, and I helped. Isn't it nice? See,
there are my father and mother waiting for me."

On the mai^n of a lovely little lake, less than a mile
in circumference, was a comfortably built house, semi-
native, semi-European in construction, and surrounded
by a garden of gorgeous-hued coleus, crotons, and other
indigenous plants, and even the palings which enclosed
it were of growing saplings, so evenly trimmed as to re-
semble an ivy-grown wall.

Seated in front of the open door were a man and wo-
man. The latter rose and came to meet Manson, who
raised his hat as the lady held out her hand, and he told
her who he was.

^Come inside," she said, in a soft, pleasant voice.
" This is my husband, Captain HoUister. Our vessel
was lost on this island twenty-eight months ago, and
you are the first white man we have seen since then."

The blind man made his visitor welcome, but without
effusion, and b^ged him to be seated. What especially
struck Manson was the calm, quiet manner of all three.
They received him as if they were used to seeing
strangers, and betrayed no unusual agitation. Yet they
were deeply thankful for his coming. The house con-
sisted of thrse rooms, and had been made extremely
comfortable by articles of cabin furniture. The table
was laid for breakfast, and as Manson sat down, the
little girl hurriedly milked a goat, and brought in a
small gourd of milk. In a few minutes Hollister's slight
reserve had worn off, and he related his strange story.

His vessel (of which he was owner) was a topsail

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

schooner of 130 tons, and had sailed from Singapore in
a trading cruise among the Pacific Islands. For the
first four months all went well. Many islands had been
visited with satisfactory results, and then came disaster,
swift and terrible. Hollister told of it in few and simple
words.

" We were in sight of this island and in the middle
watch were becalmed. The night was close and sultry,
and we had made all ready for a blow of some sort. For
two hours we waited, and then in an instant the whole
heavens were alight with chain and fork lightning. My
Malay crew bolted below, and as they reached the fore-
scuttle, two of them were struck dead, and flames burst
out on the fore-part of the ship. I sprang forward, and
was half-way along the deck, when I, too, was struck
down. For an hour I was unconscious, and when I re-
vived knew that my sight was gone for ever.

** My mate was a good seaman, but old and wanting
in nerve. Still, with the aid of some of the terrified
crew, and amidst a torrential downpour of rain which
almost immediately began to fall, he did what he could
to save the ship. In half an hour the rain ceased, and
then the wind came with hurricane force from the south-
ward ; the crew again bolted, and refused to come on
deck, and the poor mate in trying to heave-to was washed
away from the wheel, together with the Malay serang —
the only man who stuck to him. There were now left
on board alive four Malays, one Fijian A.B. named
Sam, my wife and child and myself. And I, of course,
was helpless.

*'*Fiji Sam' was a plucky fellow. Aided by my

THE BLIND MAN OF ADMIRALTY ISLAND

wife, he succeeded in putting the schooner before the
wind and letting her drive to the N.N.W., feeling sure
that she would be giving the land a wide berth. Un-
fortunately he did not count upon a four-knot current
setting to the eastward, and just as daylight was
breaking we tore clean over the reef at high water
into a little bay two miles from here. The water was
so deep, and the place so sheltered, that the schooner
drifted in among the branches of the trees lining the
beach, and lay there as quiet as if she were moored to
a wharf.

" Two days later the Malays seized the dinghy, tak-
ing with them provisions and arms, and deserted me.
What became of them I do not know.

"Fiji Sam found this lake, and here we built this
house, after removing all that we could from the ship,
for she was leaking, and settled down upon her keel.
She is there still, but of no use.

" When we ran ashore we had in the hold some goats
and pigs, which I had bought at Anchorites' Island. The
goats kept with us, but the pigs went wild, and took to
the bush. In endeavouring to shoot one, poor Fiji Sam
lost his life — his rifle caught in a vine and went off, the
bullet passing through his body.

" Not once since the wreck have we seen a single native,
though on clear days we often see smoke about fifteen
miles along the coast. Anyway, none have CDme near
us — for which I am very glad."

Manson remarked that that was fortunate as they were
" a bad lot ".

"So we have been living here quietly for over two

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

years. Twice only have we seen a sail, but only on the
horizon. And I, having neither boat nor canoe, and
being blind, was helpless."

'* That is the poor fellow's story," concluded Manson.
" Of course I will give them a passage to Levuka, and
we must otherwise do our best for them. Although
Hollister has lost every penny he had in the world, his
wife tells me that she owns some property in Singapore,
where she also has a brother who is in business there.
By Jove, boys, I wish you had been with me when I
said ' Thank God, I have found you, Captain Hollister,'
and the poor fellow sighed and turned his face away as
he held out his hand to me, and his wife drew him to
her bosom." '

• * S«* \ 5« . ■ • ,.

CHAPTER IV

NISAN ISLAND ; A TALE OF THE OLD TRADING DAYS

When I was first learning the ropes as a " recruiter "
in the Kanaka labour trade, recruiting natives to work
on the plantations of Samoa and Fiji, we called at a
group of islands called Nisan by the natives, and marked
on the chart as the Sir Charles Hardy Islands. I thought
it likely that I might obtain a few " recruits," and the
captain wanted fresh provisions.

The group lies between the south end of New Ireland
and the north end of the great Bougainville Island in
the Solomon Archipelago, and consists of six low, well-
wooded and fertile islands, enclosed within a barrier reef,
forming a noble atoll, almost circular in shape. All the
islands are thickly populated at the present day by na-
tives, who are peaceable enough, and engage in biche-
de-mer and pearl-shell fishing. Less than forty years
back they were notorious cannibals, and very warlike,
and never hesitated to attempt to cut off any whaleship
or trading vessel that was not well manned and well
armed.

As I had visited the group on three previous occa-
sions in a trading vessel and was well known to the

33 3

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

people, I was pretty sure of getting some " recruits " for
Samoa, for our vessel had a good reputation. So,
lowering our boats, the second mate and I went on
shore, and were pleasantly received. But, alas for my
hopes ! I could not get a single native to recruit They
were, they said, now doing so well at curing biche^-
mer for a Sydney trading vessel that none of the
young men cared to leave the island to work on a
plantation for three years; in addition to this, never
before had food been so plentiful — pigs and poultry
abounded, and turtle were netted by hundreds at a
time. In proof of their assertion as to the abundance
of provisions, I bought from them, for trade goods
worth about ten dollars, a boat-load of turtle, pigs, ducks,
fowls, ^gs and fish. These I sent off to the ship by
the second mate, and told him to return for another
load of bread-fruit, taro, and other vegetables and fruit.
I also sent a note to the captain by my own boat,
telling him to come on shore and bring our gims and
plenty of cartridges, as the islands were alive with
coimtless thousands of fine, heavy pigeons, which were
paying the group their annual visit from the mountain-
ous forests of Bougainville Island and New Ireland.
They literally swarmed on a small uninhabited island,
covered with bread-fruit and other trees, and used by
the natives as a sort of pleasure resort

The two boats returned together, and leaving the
second mate to buy more pigs and turtle — for we had
eighty-five " recruits " on board to feed, as well as the
ship's company of twenty-eight persons — the skipper
and I started off in my boat for the little island, ac-

A TALE OF THE OLD TRADING DAYS

cx)mpanied by several young Nisan " bucks " carrying old
smooth-bore muskets, for they, too, wanted to join in
the sport I had given them some tins of powder, shot,
and a few hundred military caps. We landed on a
beautiful white beach, and telling our boafs crew to
return to the village and help the second mate, the
skipper and I, with the Nisan natives, walked up the
bank, and in a few minutes the guns were at work.
Never before had I seen such thousands of pigeons in
so small an area. It could hardly be called sport, for
the birds were so thick on the trees that when a native
fired at haphazard into the branches the heavy charge
of shot would bring them down by the dozen — the
remainder would simply fly off to the next tree. Owing
to the dense foliage the skipper and I seldom got a
shot at them on the wing, and had to slaughter like
the natives, consoling ourselves with the fact that
every bird would be eaten. Most of them were so
fat that it was impossible to pluck them wfthout tte
skin coming away, and from the boat-load we took on
board the skip's cook obtained a ten-gallon keg full
of fat.

About noon we ceased, to have something to eat
and drink, and chose for our camp a fairly open spot,
higher than the rest of the island, and growing on
which were some magnificent trees, bearing a fruit
called vi. It is in reality a wild mango, but instead
of containing the smooth oval-shaped seed of the
mango family, it has a round, root-like and spiky core.
The fruit, however, is of a delicious flavour, and when
fully ripe melts in one's mouth. Whilst our native

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

friends were grilling some birds, and getting us some
young coco-nuts to drink, the captain and I, taking
some short and heavy pieces of wood, began throwing
them at the ripe fruit overfiead. Suddenly my com-
panion tripped over something and fell.

** Hallo, what is this? " he exclaimed, as he rose and
looked at the cause of his mishap.

It was the end of a bar of pig-iron ballast, protruding
some inches out of the^oft soil. We worked it to and
fro, and then pulled it out. Wonderii^ how it came
there, we left it and resumed our stick-throwing, when
we discovered three more on the other side of the tree ;
they were lying amid the ruins of an old wall, built of
coral-stone slabs. We questioned the natives as to
how these ^ pigs " came to be there. They replied that,
long before their time, a small vessel had come into
the lagoon and anchored, and that the crew had thrown
the bars of iron overboard. After the schooner had
sailed away, the natives had dived for and recovered
the iron, and had tried to soften the bars by fire in
the hope of being able to turn it into axes, etc.

We accepted the story as true, and thought no more
about it, thoi^h we wondered why such useful, com-
pact and heavy ballast should be thrown away, and
when my boat returned to take us to the ship, we took
the iron " pigs" with us.

Arriving at Samoa, we soon rid ourselves of our
eighty-five " blackbirds," who had all behaved very well
on the voyage, and were sorry to leave the ship ; and
that evening I paid a visit to an old friend of mine —
an American who kept a large store in Apia, the prin-

A TALE OF THE OLD TRADING DAYS

cipal port and town of Samoa. I was telling him all
about our cruise, when an old white man, locally known
as ** Bandy Tom," came up from the yard, and sat down
on the verandah steps near us. Old Tom was a char-
acter, and well known all over Polynesia as an inveterate
old loafer and beachcomber. He was a deserter from
the navy, and for over forty years had wandered about
the South Pacific, sometimes working honestly for a
Uving, sometimes dishonestly, but usually loafing upon
some native community, until they tired of him and
made him seek fresh pastures In his old age he had
come to Samoa, and my friend, taking pity on the
penniless old wreck, gave him employment as night
watchman, and let him hang about the premises and
do odd jobs in the day-time. With all his faults he
was an amusing ancient, and was known for his
'* tall " yarns about his experiences with cannibals in
Fiji.

Bidding me "good-evening," Bandy Tom puffed
away at his pipe, and listened to what I was saying.
When I had finished describing our visit to Nisan, and
the finding of the ballast, he interrupted.

** I can tell you where them ' pigs ' come from, and
all about 'em — leastways a good deal; for I knows
more about the matter than any one else."

Parker laughed. "Bandy, you know, or pretend
to know, about everything that has happened in the
South Seas since the time of Captain Cook."

" Ah, 3^u can laugh as much as you like, boss," said
the old fellow serenely, " but I know what I'm talkin'
about I ain't the old gas-bag you think I am. I lived

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

on Nisan for a year an' ten months, nigh on thirty
years ago, gettin' biche-de-mer for Captain Bobby
Towns of Sydney." Then turning to me he added : ** I
ain't got too bad a memory, for all my age, I can tell
you the names of all the six islands, an' how they lies,
an' a good deal about the people an' the queer way they
has of catchin' turtle in rope nets ; an' I can tell you the
names of the head men that was there in my time —
which was about 'fifty or 'fifty-one. Just you try me
an' see."

I did try him, and he very soon satisfied me that he
had lived on the Sir Charles Hardy Islands, and knew
the place well. Then he told his story, >yhich I con-
dense as much as possible.

PART I

Bandy was landed at Nisan by Captain Robert
Towns of the barque Adventurer of Sydney, .to collect
biche-de-iner. He was well received by the savage in-
habitants and provided with a house, and well treated
generally, for Captain Towns, knowing the natives to
be cannibals and treacherous, had demanded a pledge
from them that Bandy should not be harmed, and
threatened that if on his return in the following year
he found the white man was missing, he would land his
crew, and destroy them to the last man. Then the
barque sailed. A day or so afterwards Bandy was
visited by a native, who was very different in appear-
ance from the Nisan people. He spoke to the white
man in good English, and informed him that he was a

A TALE OF THE OLD TRADING DAYS

native of the island of Rotumah, but had been living
on Nisan for more than twenty years, had married, had
a family, and was well thought of by the people. The
two became great friends, and Taula, as the Rotumah
man was named, took Bandy into his confidence, and
told him of a tragedy that had occurred on Nisan about
five or six years after he (Taula) had landed on the
islands. He was one of the crew of a whaleship which,
on a dark night, nearly ran ashore on Nisan, and in the
hurry and confusion of the vessels going about he
slipped over the side, swam on shore through the surf, jj?^
and reached the land safely.

One day, said Taula, the natives were thrown into a
state of wild excitement by the appearance of a brigan-
tine, which boldly dropped anchor abreast of the prin-
cipal village. She was the first vessel that had ever
stopped at the islands, and the savage natives instantly
planned to capture her and massacre the crew. But
they resolved to first put the white men off their guard.
Taula, however, did not know this at the time. With
a number of the Nisan people he went on board, taking
an ample supply of provisions. The brigantine had a
large crew and was heavily armed, carrying ten guns,
and the natives were allowed to board in numbers.
The captain had with him his wife, whom Taula de-
scribed as being quite a young girl. He questioned
the natives about pearl-shell and biche-de-mery and a
few hours later, by personal inspection, satisfied himself
that the atoll abounded with both. He made a treaty
with the apparently friendly people, and at once landed
a party to build houses, etc.

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

I must now, for reasons that will appear later on,
hurry over Taula*s story as told by him to Bandy.

Eight or ten days after the arrival of the brigantine,
the shore party of fourteen white men were treacher-
ously attacked, and thirteen ruthlessly slaughtered.
One who escaped was kept as a slave, and the brigan-
tine, to avoid capture, hurriedly put to sea.

Six months or so passed, and the vessel sgaLin ap-
peared and anchored, this time on a mission of venge-
ance. The natives, nevertheless, were not alarmed,
and again determined to get possession of the ship,
although this time her decks were crowded with men.
They attacked her in canoes, were repulsed, returned
to the shore and then, with incredible audacity, sent
the white sailor whom they had captured on board the
vessel to make peace. But not for a moment had they
relinquished the determination to capture the vessel,
which they decided to effect by treachery, if force could
not be used. What followed was related in detail by
Taula to Bandy.

Parker and I were deeply interested in Bandys
story, and at its conclusion I asked him if his inform-
ant knew the name of the ship and her nationality.

" Not her name, sir ; but she was an American. Taula
knew the American flag, for the ship he ran away from
was a Sag harbour whaler. The pig-iron bars which
you found were brought ashore to make a bed for the
beche-de-mer curing pots. He showed 'em to me one
day."

Both Parker and I were convinced of the truth of
Bandy's story, and came to the conclusion that the un-

A TALE OF THE OLD TRADING DAYS

known brigantine was probably a colonial trader, which
had afterwards been lost with all hands. For we were
both fairly well up in the past history of the South
Seas — ^at least we thought so — and had never heard of
this affair at the Sir Charles Hardy Group. But we
were entirely mistaken in our assumptions.

In the month of April in the year 1906, after a lapse
of more than five and twenty years, the mystery that
enshrouded the tragedy of Nisan was revealed to me
by my coming across, in a French town, a small, time-
stained and faded volume of 230 pages, and published
by J. and J. Harper of New York in 1833, and en-
titled Narrative of a Voyage to the Ethiopic and South
Atlantic Ocean^ Indian Ocean^ Chinese Sea, North and
South Pcuific Ocean in the years 1829, 1830, 1831,
by Abby Jane Morrell, who accompanied her husband,
Captain Benjamin Morrell, Junior, of the schooner
Antarctic.

Now to her story,

PART II

Opening the faded little volume, the reader sees a
wood-engraving of the authoress, a remarkably handsome
young woman of about twenty years of age, dressed in
the quaint fashion of those days. As a matter of fact
she was only four and twenty when her book was pub-
lished. In a brief preface she tells us that her object
in writing a book was not for the purpose of exciting
interest in her own experiences of a remarkable voyage,
but in the hope that it would arouse philanthropic en-

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

deavour to ameliorate the condition of American sea-
men. Throughout the volume there is a vein of deep,
yet unobtrusive piety, and the reader is struck with her
self-effacement, her courage, her reverent admiration
for her young sailor husband, and her pride in his
gallant ship and sturdy crew of native-bom American
seamen. In the Antarctic the young couple sailed
many seas, and visited many lands, and everywhere
they seem to have been the recipients of unbounded
hospitality and attention,, especially from their own
country people, and English merchants, and naval and
military men. It is very evident— even if only judging
from her picture — that she was a very charming young
lady of the utmost vivacity ; and in addition to this, she
was an accomplished linguist, and otherwise highly edu-
cated. Her beauty, indeed, caused her many tears, owing
to the ^^ wicked and persistent attentions " of the Ameri-
can consul at Manila. This gentleman appears to have
set himself to work to make Mrs. Morrell a widow, until
at last — ^her husband being away at sea — she had to be
guarded from his persistent advances by some of the
English and American families resident in Manila
She tells the story in the most naYve and delightful
manner, and the reader's heart warms to the little
woman. But I must not diverge from the subject.

" I am," she says, " the daughter of Captain John
Wood, of New York, who died at New Orleans on
the 14th of November, 181 1. He was then master of
the ship Indian Hunter. . . • He died when I was so
young that if I pleased myself with thinking that I
remember him, I could not have been a judge of his

A TALE OF THE OLD TRADING DAYS

virtues ; but it has been a source of happiness to me
that he is spoken of by his contemporaries as a man
of good sense and great integrity."

When fifteen years of age Miss Wood met her
cousin, Captain Morrell, a young man who had gained
a reputation for seamanship, and as a navigator. They
were mutually attracted to each other, and in a few
months were married. Then he sailed away on a two
years' voyage, returned, and again set out, this time to the
little known South Seas. Absent a year — during which
time a son was bom to him — he was so pleased with the
financial results of the voyage that he determined on a
second ; and his wife insisted on accompanying him,
though he pleaded with her to remain, and told her of
the dangers and terrors of a long voyage in unknown
seas, the islands of which were peopled by ferocious and
treacherous cannibals. But she was not to be deterred
from sharing her husband's perils, and with an aching
heart took farewell of her infant son, whom she left in
care of her mother, and on 2nd September, 1829, the
Antarctic sailed from New York. The cruise was to last
two years, and the object of it was to seek for new
sealing grounds in the Southern Ocean, and then go
northward to the Pacific Islands and barter with the
natives for sandal-wood, beche-de-mer^ pearls, and pearl-
shell.

The crew of the brigantine were picked men, and all
of them gave Morrell a written pledge to abstain from
drinking spirits of any kind during the entire voyage.
Morrell, though a strict disciplinarian, seems to have
had their respect and even affection throughout, and

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

that he was a man of iron resolution and dauntless
courage the book gives ample testimony.

After some months' sealing at the Auckland Islands,
and visiting New Zealand, where the Morrells were
entertained by the missionary, John Williams, the
brigantine made a highly successful cruise among the
islands of the South Pacific, and then Morrell went to
Manila to dispose of his valuable cargo. This he did
to great advantage, and once more his restless, daring
spirit impelled him tct make another voyage among the
islands. This time, however, he left his wife in Manila,
where she soon found many friends, who protected her
from the annoying attentions of the consul, and nursed
her through a severe illness.

**On the seventy-fifth day after the sailing of the
Antarctic!* she writes, "as I was looking with a glass
from my window, as I had done for many days previously,
I saw my husband's well-known signal at the mast head
of an approaching vessel. ... I was no sooner on board
than I found myself in my husband's arms ; but the
scene was too much for my enfeebled frame, and I was
for some time insensible. On coming to myself, I looked
around and saw my brother, pale and emaciated. My
forebodings were dreadful when I perceived that the
number of the crew was sadly diminished from what it
was when I was last on board. I dared not trust myself
to make any inquiries, and all seemed desirous to avoid
explanations. I could not rest in this state of mind,
and ventured to ask what had become of the men. My
husband, with his usual frankness, sat down and de-
tailed to me the whole affair, which was as follows : —

A TALE OF THE OLD TRADING DAYS

" It seems that six weeks after leaving Manila" (here
I omit some unimportant details) "he came to six
islands that were surrounded by a coral reef." (The Sir
Charles Hardy Group.) " Here was a-plenty of beche-
de-mer, and he made up his mind to get a cargo of this,
and what shell he could procure. . . . On May 21st he
sent a boat's crew on shore to clear away the brush and
prepare a place to cure the biche-de-mer. The natives
now came off to the vessel, and seemed quiet, although it
was evident that they had never seen a white man
before, and the islands bore no trace of ever having been
visited by civilised men. The people were a large,
savage-looking race, but Mr. Morrell was lulled to secur-
ity by their civil and harmless {sic) appearance, and
their fondness of visiting the vessel to exchange their
fruits for trinkets and other commodities attractive
to the savages in these climes. They were shown in
perfect friendship all parts of the vessel, and appeared
pleased with the attentions paid them. ... A boat
was sent on shore with the foi^e and all the blacksmith's
tools, but the savages soon stole the greater part of
them.

''This was an unpropitious circumstance, but Mr.
Morrell thought that he could easily recover them ; and
to accomplish this, he took six of his men, well armed,
and marched directly to the village where the king lived.
This was a lovely place, formed in a grove of trees.
Here he met two hundred warriors, all painted for
battle, armed with bows and arrows ready for an onset,
waving their war plumes, and eager to engage. On
turning round he saw nearly as many more in his rear

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

— it was a critical moment — ^the slightest fear was sure
death* Mr. Morrell addressed his comrades, and, in a
word, told them that if they did not act in concert, and
in the most dauntless manner, death would be inevitable.
He then threw down his musket, drew his cutlass, and
holding a pistol in his right hand, he pushed for the
king, knowing in what reverence savages in general
hold the person of their monarch. In an instant the
pistol was at the king's breast, and the cutlass waved
over his head. The savages had arrowed their bows,
and were ready at the slightest signal to have shot a
cloud of missiles at the handful of white men ; but in
an instant, when they saw the danger of their king, they
dropped their bows to the ground. At this fortunate
moment, the captain marched around the circle, and
compelled those who had come with war-clubs to throw
those down also; all which he ordered his men to
secure and collect inta a heap. The king was then
conducted with several of his chiefs on board the An-
tarctic, and kept until the next day. They were treated
with every attention, but strictly guarded all night On
the following morning he gave them a good breakfast,
loaded them with presents — for which they seemed
grateful, and laboured hard to convince their conqueror
that they were friendly to him and his crew — sent them
on shore, together with some of his men, to go on with
the works which had been commenced ; but feeling that
a double caution was necessary, he sent a reinforcement
to his men on shore, well armed. . . . All were cautioned
to be on their guard ; but everything was unavailing ;
for not long after this, a general attack was made on

wtwr^

A TALE OF THE OLD TRADING DAYS

the men from the woods, in so sudden a manner that
they were overthrown at once. Two of the crew who
were in the small boat, made their escape out of reach
of the arrows, and had the good fortune to pick up three
others who had thrown themselves into the water for
safety. On hearii^ the horrid yells of the savages, the
whaleboat was sent with ten men, who, with great
exertions, saved two more of the crew. The rest all
fell, at one untimely moment, victims to savage barbar-
ity! It was an awful and heart-sickening moment;
fourteen of the crew had perished — they were murdered,
mangled, and their corpses thrown upon the strand
without the possibility of receiving the rites of Christian
burial. . . . Four of the survivors were wounded — the
heat was intolerable — the spirits of the crew were
broken down, and a sickness came over their hearts that
could not be controlled by the power of medicine — a
sickness arising from moral causes, that would not yield
to science nor art.

*' In this situation Captain Morrell made the best of
his way for Manila. ... I grew pale over the narrative ;
it filled my dreams for many nights, and occupied my
thoughts for many days, almost exclusively. ... I
dreaded the thought of the mention of the deed, and
yet I wished I had been there. I might have done
some good, or, if not, I might have assisted to dress the
wounded, among whom was my own dear, heroic bro-
ther. He received an arrow in the breast, but his good
constitution soon got over the shock ; though he was
pale even when I saw him, so many days after the event.
My husband had now lost everything but his courage,

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

his honour, and his perseverance ; but the better part of
the community of Manila had become his friends, while
the American consul was delighted with our misfortunes.
He was alone ! "

PART III

Nothing daunted by this catastrophe Captain Morrell
petitioned the Captain -General of the Philippines for
leave to take out a new crew of seventy additional men
— ^sixty-six Manila men, and four Europeans. Every-
one warned him of the danger of this — no other ship
had ever dared take more than six Manila men as part
of her complement, for they were treacherous, and prone
to mutiny. But Morrell contested that he would be
able to manage them and the captain-general yielded.
Two English merchants, Messrs. Cannell and Gellis,
generously lent him all the money he required to fit out,
taking only his I.O.U. So : —

^' On the 1 8th July, 1830, the Antarctic again sailed
for Massacre Islands, as my husband had named the
group where he lost his men. When I went on board
I found a crew of eighty-five men, fifty-five of them
savages as fierce as those whom we were about to en-
counter, and as dangerous, if not properly managed.
One would have thought that I should have shrunk from
this assemblage as from those of Massacre Islands, but
I entered my cabin with a light step ; I did not fear
savage men half so much as I did a civilised brute. I
was with my husband ; he was not afraid, why should
I be ? This was my reasoning, and I found it safe. *

" The schooner appeared as formidable as anything

A TALE OF THE OLD TRADING DAYS

possibly could of her size ; she had great guns, ten in
number, small arms, boarding-pikes, cutlasses, pistols,
and a great quantity of ammunition. She was a war-
horse in every sense of the word, but that of animal
life, and that she seemed partially to have, or one would
havethoughtso, to hear the sailors talk of her. . . . She
coursed over the waters with every preparation for fight.

"On the 13th of September the Antarctic again
reached Massacre Islands. I could only view the place
as a Golgotha ; and shuddered as we neared it ; but I
could see that most of the old crew who came hither
at the time of the massacre were panting for revenge,
although their captain had endeavoured to impress upon
them the folly of gratifying such a passion if we could
gain our purpose by mildness mixed with firmness." (I
am afraid that here the skipper of the Antarctic was not
exactly open with the little lady. He certainly meant
that his crew should " get even " with their shipmates'
murderers, but doubtless told her that he ''had en-
deavoured," etc)

** We had no sooner made our appearance in the har-
bour at Massacre Island, on the 14th, than we were at-
tacked by about three himdred warriors. We opened a
brisk fire upon them, and they immediately retreated.
This was the first battle I ever saw where men in anger
met men in earnest We were now perfectly safe ; our
Manila men were as brave as Caesar ; they were anxious
to be landed instantly, to fight these Indians at once.
They felt as much superior, no doubt, to these ignorant
satages as the philosopher does to the peasant. This
the captain would not permit ; he knew his superiority

49 4

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

while on board his vessel, and he also knew that this
superiority must be, in a manner, lost to him as soon as
he landed.

" The firing had ceased, and the enemy had retired,
when a single canoe appeared coming from the shore
with one man in it. We could not conjecture what this
could mean. The man was as naked as a savage and
as highly painted, but he managed his paddle with a
different hand from the savages. When he came along-
side, he cried out to us in English, and we recognised
Leonard Shaw, one of our old crew, whom we had
supposed among the dead. The meeting had that joy-
ousness about it that cannot be felt in ordinary life ; he
was dead and buried, and now was alive again I We
received him as one might imagine; surprise, joy,
wonder, took possession of us all, and we made him re-
count his adventures, which were wonderful enough.

'* Shaw was wounded when the others were slain ; he
fled to the woods, and succeeded at tb&t time in escap-
ing from death. Hunger at length induced him to leave
the woods and attempt to give himself to the savages,
but coming in sight of the horrid spectacle of the bodies
of his friends and companions roasting for a cannibal
feast, he rushed forth again into the woods with the
intent rather to starve than to trust to such wretches for
protection. For four days and nights he remained in
his hiding place, when he was forced to go in pursuit of
something to keep himself from starving. After some
exertion he obtained three coco-nuts, which were so
young that they did not afford much sustenance, but
were sufficient to keep him alive fifteen days, during

A TALE OF THE OLD TRADING DAYS

which time he suffered from the continually falling
showers, which left him dripping wet. In the shade of
his hiding place he had no chance to dry himself, and on
the fifteenth day he ventured to stretch himself in the
sun ; but he did not long remain undisturbed ; an Indian
saw him, and gave the alarm, and he was at once sur-
rounded by a host of savages. The poor, suffering
wretch implored them to be merciful, but he implored
in vain ; one of them struck him on the back of the
head with a war-club, and laid him senseless on the
ground, and for a while left him as dead. When he re-
covered, and had gathered his scattered senses, he ob-
served a chief who was not among those by whom he
had been attacked, and made signs to him that he would
be his slave if he would save him. The savage intimated
to him to follow, which he did, and had his wound most
cruelly dressed by the savage, who poured hot water into
it, and filled it with sand.

** As soon as the next day, while yet in agony with his
wound, he was called up and set to work in making
knives, and other implements from the iron hoops, and
other plunder from the forge when the massacre took
place. This was indeed hard, for the poor fellow was
no mechanic, though a first-rate Jack-tar . . . however,
necessity made him a blacksmith, and he got along pretty
well.

" The savages were not yet satisfied, and they made
him march five or six miles to visit a distinguished chief.
This was done in a state of nudity, without anything
like sandals or mocassins to protect his feet from the
flint stones and sharp shells, and under the burning

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

rays of an intolerable sun. Blood marked his footsteps.
The king met him and compelled him to debase himself
by the most abject ceremonies of slavery. He was now
overcome, and with a dogged indifference was ready to
die. He could not, he would not walk back ; his feet
were lacerated, swollen, and almost in a state of putre-
faction. The savages saw this, and took him back by
water, but only to experience new torments. The
young ones imitated their elders, and these graceless
little rascals pulled out his beard and whiskers, and
eyebrows and eyelashes. In order to save himself some
part of the pain of this wretched process of their amuse-
ment, he was permitted to perform a part of this work
with his own hands. He was indeed a pitiable object,
but one cannot die when one wishes, and be guiltless.
This was not all he suffered ; he was almost starved to
death, for they gave him only the offal of the fish they
caught, and this but sparingly ; he sustained himself by
catching rats, and these offensive creatures were his
principal food for a longtime. He understood that the
natives did not suffer the rats to be killed, and therefore
he had to do it secretly in the night time.

"Thus passed the days of the poor prisoner; the
wound on his head was not yet healed, and notwith-
standing all his efforts he failed to get the sand out of
his first wound until a short time before his deliverance,
when it was made known to him that he was to be im-
molated for a feast to the king of the group ! All things
had now become matters of indifference to him, and he
heard the horrid story with great composure. All the
preparations for the sacrifice were got up in his presence,

A TALE OF THE OLD TRADING DAYS

near the very spot where the accursed feast of skulls had
been held. All was in readiness, and the people waited
a long time for the king ; but he did not come, and the
ceremony was put off.

* Shaw has often expressed himself on this subject, and
said that he could not but feel some regret that his woes
were not to be finished, as there was no hope for him,
and to linger always in this state of agitation was worse
than death ; but mortals are short-sighted, for he was
destined to be saved through the instrumentality of
his friends.

'' His soul was again agitated by hope and fear in
the extremes when the Antarctic made her appearance
a second time on the coast. He feared that her arrival
would be the signal for his destruction ; but if this should
not happen, might he not be saved ? The whole popu-
lation of the island he was on, and those of the others
of the group, manned their war canoes for a formidable
attack ; and the fate of the prisoner was suspended for
a season. The attack was commenced by the warriors
in the canoes, without doubt confident of success ; but
the well-directed fire from the Antarctic soon repulsed
them, and they sought the shore in paroxysms of rage,
which was changed to fear when they found that the
big guns of the schooner threw their shot directly into
the village, and were rapidly demolishing their dwellings.
It was in this state of fear and humility that Shaw was
sent off to the vessel to stop the carnage and destruction ;
they were glad to have peace on any terms. They
now gave up their boldness, and as it was the wish of
all but the Manila men to spare the effusion of human

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

blood, it was done as soon as safety would permit of
it

" The story of Shaw's sufferings raised the indignation
of every one of the Americans and English we had on
board, and they were violently desirous to be led on to
attack the whole of the Massacre Islands, and extirpate
the race at once. They felt at this moment as if it
would be an easy thing to kill the whole of the inhabit-
ants ; but Captain Morrell was not to be governed by
any impulse of passion — he had other duties to perform ;
yet he did not reprimand the men for this feeling;
thinking it might be of service to him hereafter.

" After taking every precaution to ensure safety, by
getting up his boarding-nettings many feet above the
deck, and everything prepared for defence or attack, the
frame of the house, brought for the purpose, was got up
on a small uninhabited island — ^which had previously
been purchased of the king in exchange for useful articles
such as axes, shaves, and other mechanical tools, pre-
cisely such as the Indians wished for. The captain
landed with a large force, and began to fell the trees to
make a castle for defence. Finding two large trees,
nearly six feet through, he prepared the limbs about
foi*ty feet from the ground, and raised a platform ex-
tending from one to the other, with an arrow-proof bul-
wark around it. Upon this platform were stationed a
garrison of twenty men, with four brass swivels. The
platform was covered with a watertight roof, and the men
slept there at night upon their arms, to keep the natives
from approaching to injure the trees or the fort by fire —
the only way they could assail the garrison. It looked

A TALE OF THE OLD TRADING DAYS

indeed like a castle — formidable in every respect ; and
the ascent to it was by a ladder, which was drawn up
at night into this war-like habitation. The next step
was to clear the woods from around the castle, in order
to prevent a lurking enemy from coming within arrow-
shot of the fort Next, the house was raised, and made
quite a fine appearance, being one hundred and fifty feet
long, forty feet broad, and very high. The castle pro-
tected the house and the workmen in it, and both house
and castle were so near the sea-board that the Antarctic^
while riding at anchor, protected both. The castle was
well stocked with provisions in case of a si^e.

" The next day, after all was in order for business,
a large number of canoes made their appearance near
Massacre Island. Shaw said that this fleet belonged
to another island (of the group) and he had never known
them to stop there before. My husband, having some
suspicions, did not suffer the crew to go on shore next
morning at the usual time ; and about eight o'clock one
of the chiefs came off, as usual, to offer us fruits, but
no boat was sent to meet him. He waited some time
for us, and then directed his course to our island, which
my husband had named Wallace Island, in memory of
the officer who had bravely fallen in fight on the day of
the massacre. This was surprising as not a single
native had set foot on that island since our works
were b^un ; but we were not kept long in suspense,
for we saw about a hundred war-canoes start from the
back side of Massacre Island, and make towards Wallace
Island. We knew that war was their object, and the
Antarctic was prepared for battle. The chief who had

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

come to sell us fruit, came in front of the castle — ^the
first man. He gave the war-whoop, and about two hun-
dred warriors, who had concealed themselves in the
woods during the darkness of the night, rushed forward.
The castle was attacked on both sides, and the Indians
discharged their arrows at the building in the air, till
they were stuck, like porcupines' quills, in every part of
the roof. The garrison was firm, and waked in silence
until the assailants were within a short distance, when
they opened a tremendous fire with their swivels, loaded
with canister shot; the men were ready with their mus-
kets also, and the Antarctic opened her fire of large
guns, all with a direct and deadly aim at the leaders of
the savage band. The execution was very great, and
in a short time the enemy beat a precipitate retreat, tak-
ing with them their wounded, and as many of their dead
as they could. The ground was strewed with imple-
ments of war, which the savages had thrown away in their
flight, or which had belonged to the slain. The enemy
did not expect such a reception, and they were prodigi-
ously frightened ; the sound of the cannon alarmed every
woman and child in the group, as it echoed through the
forest, or died upon the wave; they had never heard
such a roar before, for in our first fight there was no ne-
cessity for such energy. The Indians took to the water,
leaving only a few in their canoes to get them off, while
the garrison hoisted the American flag, and were greeted
by cheers from those on board the schooner, who were
in high spirits at their victory, which was achieved with-
out the loss of a man on our part, and only two wounded.
The music struck up * Yankee Doodle,' * Rule Britannia,'

A TALE OF THE OLD TRADING DAYS

etc., and the crew could hardly restrain their joy to think
that they had beaten their enemy so easily.

"The boats were all manned, and most of the crew
went on shore to mark the devastation which had been
made. I saw all this without any sensation of fear, so
easy is it for a woman to catch the spirit of those near
her. If I had a few months before this time read of
such a battle I should have trembled at the detail of the
incidents; but seeing all the animation and courage
which were displayed, and noticing at the same time
how coolly all was done, evety particle of fear left me,
and I stood quite as collected as any heroine of former
days. Still I could not but deplore the sacrifice of the
poor, misguided, ignorant creatures, who wore the human
form, and had souls to save. Must the ignorant always
be taught civilisation through blood ? — situated as we
were, no other course could be taken.

" On the morning of the 19th, to our great surprise,
the chief who had previously come out to bring us fruit,
and had done so on the morning of our great battle,
came again in his canoe, and called for Shaw, on the
edge of the reef, with his usual air of kindness and
friendship, offering fruit, and intimating a desire for
trade, as though nothing had happened. The offer
seemed fair, but all believed him to be treacherous.
The small boat was sent to meet him, but Shaw, who
we feared was now an object of vengeance, was not
sent in her. She was armed for fear of the worst, and
the coxswain had orders to kill the chief if he should
discover any treachery in him. As our boat came
alongside the canoe, the crew saw a bearded arrow

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

attached to a bow, ready for the purpose of revenge.
Just as the savage was about to bend his bow, the
coxswain levelled his piece, and shot the traitor through
the body; his wound was mortal, but he did not ex-
pire immediately. At this instant a fleet of canoes
made their appearance to protect their chief. The
small boat lost one of her oars in the fight, and we
were obliged to man two large boats and send them to
the place of contest The large boats were armed with
swivels and muskets, and a furious engagement ensued.
The natives were driven from the water, but succeeded
in taking off their wounded chief, who expired as he
reached the shore.

** After the death of Hennean, the name of the chief
we had slain, the inhabitants of Massacre Island fled
to some other place, and left all things as they were
before our attack upon them, and our men roamed over
it at will. The skulls of several of our slaughtered men
were found at Hennean's door, trophies of his bloody
prowess. These were now buried with the honours of
war; the colours of the Antarctic were lowered half-
mast, minute guns were fired, and dirges were played
by our band, in honour of those who had fallen un-
timely on Massacre Island. This was all that feeling
or affection could bestow. Those so inhumanly mur-
dered had at last the rites of burial performed for
them; millions have perished without such honours
... it is the last sad ofiice that can be paid.

** We now commenced collecting and curing becke-
de-mer^ and should have succeeded to our wishes, if we
had not been continually harassed by the natives as

A TALE OF THE OLD TRADING DAYS

soon as we began our efforts. We continued to work
in this way until the 28th of October, when we found
that the natives were still hostile, and on that day one
of our men was attacked on Massacre Island, but
escaped death through great presence of mind, and shot
the man, who was the brother of the chief Hennean.
Our man's name was Thomas Holmes, a cool, deliber-
ate Englishman. Such an instance of self-possession,
in such great danger as that in which he was placed,
would have given immortality to a greater man. We
felt ourselves much harassed and vexed by the perse-
vering savages, and finding it impossible to make them
understand our motives and intentions, we came to the
conclusion to leave the place forthwith. This was
painful, after such struggles and sacrifices and misfor-
tunes ; but there was no other course to pursue. Ac-
cordingly, on the 3rd of November, 1830, we set fire
to our house and castle, and departed by the light of
them, taking the biche-de-mer we had collected and
cured."

So ends Mrs. Morrell's story of the tragedy of ** Mas-
sacre Island". She has much else to relate of the
subsequent cruise of the Antarctic in the South Pacific
and the East Indies, and finally the happy conclusion
of an adventurous voyage, when the vessel returned
safely to New York.

If the reader has been sufficiently interested in her
story to desire to know where in the South Pacific her
** Massacre Island" is situated, he will find it in any
modern map or atlas, almost midway between New

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

Ireland and Bougainville Island, the largest of the
Solomon group, and in lat. 4° 50' S., long. 154° 20' E.
In conclusion, I may mention that further relics of the
visit of the Antarctic came to light about fifteen years
ago, when some of the natives broi^ht three or four
round shot to the local trader then living on Nisan.
They had found them buried under some coral stone
ddbris^ when searching for robber crabs.

(
4

CHAPTER V

MUTINIES

Mutinies, even at the present day, are common
enough. The facts concerning many of them never
come to light, it is so often to the advantage of the
after-guard of a ship to hush matters up. I know of
one instance in which the crew of a ship loading guano
phosphates at Howland Island imprisoned the captain,
three mates and the steward in the cabin for some
days ; then hauled them on deck, triced up the whole
five and gave them a hundred lashes each, in revenge
for the diabolical cruelties that had been inflicted upon
them day by day for long months. Then they liber-
ated their tormentors, took to the boats and dispersed
themselves on board other guano ships loading at How-
land Island, leaving their former captain and officers to
shift for themselves. This was one of the mutinies that
never came to light, or at least the mutineers escaped
punishment.

I have witnessed three mutinies — in the last of which
I took part, although I was not a member of the ship's
crew.

My first experience occurred when I was a boy, and

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

has been alluded to by the late Lord Pembroke in his
"Introduction" to the first book I had published — a
collection of tales entitled By Reef and Palm, It was
a poor sort of an affair, but filled my boyish heart with
a glorious delight — in fact it was an enjoyable mutiny
in some respects, for what might have been a tragedy
was turned into a comedy.

With a brother two years older I was sent to San
Francisco by our parents to begin life in a commercial
house, and subsequently (of course) make our for-
tunes.

Our passages were taken at Newcastle (New South
Wales) on the barque Lizzie and Rosa, commanded by
a little red-headed Irishman, to whose care we were
committed. His wife (who sailed with him) was a most
lovable woman, generous to a fault. He was about
the meanest specimen of an Irishman that ever was
born, was a savage little bully, boasted of being a
Fenian, and his insignificant appearance on his quarter
deck, as he strutted up and down, irresistibly suggested
a monkey on a stick, and my brother and myself took
a quick dislike to him, as also did the other passengers,
of whom there were thirty — cabin and steerage. His
wife (who was the daughter of a distinguished Irish
prelate) was actually afraid of the little man, who
snarled and snapped at her as if she were a disobedient
child. (Both of them are long since dead, so I can
write freely of their characteristics.)

The barque had formerly been a French corvette —
the Felix Bemaboo. She was old, ill-found and leaky,
and from the day we left Newcastle the pumps were

MUTINIES

kept going, and a week later the crew came aft and
demanded that the ship should return to port.

The little man succeeded in quieting them for the
time by giving them better food, and we continued on
our course, meeting with such a series of adverse gales
that it was forty-one days before we sighted the island
of Rurutu in the South Pacific By this time the crew
and steerage passengers were in a very angry frame of
mind ; the former were overworked and exhausted, and
the latter were furious at the miserly allowance of food
doled out to them by the equally miserly captain.

At Rurutu the natives brought off two boat-loads of
fresh provisions, but the captain bought only one small
pig for the cabin passengers. The steerage passengers
bought up everything else, and in a few minutes the
crew came aft and asked the captain to buy them some
decent food in place of the decayed pork and weevily
biscuit upon which they had been existing. He refused,
and ordered them for'ard, and then the mate, a hot-
tempered Yorkshireman named Oliver, lost his temper,
and told the captain that the men were starving. Angry
words followed, and the mate knocked the little man
down.

Picking himself up, he went below, and reappeared
with a brace of old-fashioned Colt's revolvers, one of
which — after declaring he would *' die like an Irishman "
— he pointed at the mate, and calling upon him to sur-
render and be put in irons, he fired towards his head.
Fortunately the bullet missed. The sympathetic crew
made a rush aft, seized the skipper, and after knocking
him about rather severely, held him under the force

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

pump, and nearly drowned him. Only for the respect
that the crew had for his wife, I really believe they
would have killed him, for they were wroi^ht up to a
pitch of fury by his tyranny and meanness. The boat-
swain carried him below, locked him up in one of the
state-rooms, and there he was kept in confinement till
the barque reached Honolulu, twenty days later, the
mate acting as skipper. At Honolulu, the mate and
all the crew were tried for mutiny, but the court
acquitted them all, mainly through the testimony of
the passengers.

That was my first experience of a mutiny. My
brother and I enjoyed it immensely, especially the at-
tempted shooting of the good old mate, and the sub-
sequent spectacle of the evil-tempered, vindictive little
skipper being held under the force pump.

My third experience of a mutiny I take next (as it
arose from a similar cause to the first). I was a
passenger on a brig bound from Samoa to the Gilbert
Islands (Equatorial Pacific). The master was a German,
brutal and overbearing to a degree, and the two mates
were no better. One was an American "tough," the
other a lazy, foul-mouthed Swede. All three men were
heavy drinkers, and we were hardly out of Apia
before the Swede (second mate) broke a sailor's jaw with
an iron belaj^ng pin. The crew were nearly all natives
— steady men, and fairly good seamen. Five of them
were Gilbert Islanders, and three natives of Nm6 (Sav-
age Island), and it was one of these latter whose jaw
was broken. They were an entirely new crew and had
shipped in ignorance of the character of the captain. I

MUTINIES

had often heard of him as a brutal fellow, and the brig
(the Alfreda of Hamburg) had long had an evil name.
She was a labour-ship (^' black-birder ") and I had taken
passage in her only because I was anxious to get to the
Marshall Islands as quickly as possible.

There were but five Europeans on board — captain,
two mates, bos'un and myself. The bos'un was, al-
though hard on the crew, not brutal, and he never
struck them.

We had not been out three days when the captain,
in a fit of rage, knocked a Gilbert Islander down
for dropping a wet paint-brush on the deck. Then he
kicked him about the head until the poor fellow was
insensible.

From that time out not a day passed but one or more
of the crew were struck or kicked. The second mate's
conduct filled me with fury and loathing, for, in addition
to his cruelty, his language was nothing but a string of
curses and blasphemy. Within a week I saw that the
Gilbert Islanders were getting into a dangerous frame
of mind.

These natives are noted all over the Pacific for their
courage, and seeing that mischief was brewing, I spoke
to the bos'un about it. He agreed with me, but said it
was no use speaking to the skipper.

To me the captain and officers were civil enough,
that is, in a gruff sort of way, so I decided to speak to
the former. I must mention that I spoke the Gilbert
and Savage Island dialects, and so heard the natives
talk. However, I said nothing of that to the German.
I merely said to him that he was running a great risk

65 5

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

in knocking the men about, and added that their
countrymen might try to cut off the brig out of re-
venge. He snorted with contempt, and both he and
the mates continued to *'haze" the now sulky and
brooding natives.

One calm Sunday night we were in sight of Funafuti
lagoon, and also of a schooner which I knew to be the
Hazeldine of San Francisco. She, like us, was be-
calmed.

In the middle watch I went on deck and found the
skipper and second mate drunk. The mate, who was
below, was about half-drunk. All three men had been
drinking heavily for some days, and the second mate
was hardly able to keep his feet. The captain was
asleep on the skylight, lying on his back, snoring like a
pig, and I saw the butt of his revolver showing in the
inner pocket of his coat.

Presently rain began to fall, and the second mate
called one of the hands and told him to bring him his
oil-skin coat. The man brought it, and then the brutal
Swede, accusing him of having been slow, struck him a
fearful blow in the face and knocked him off the poop.
Then the brute followed him and began kicking him
with drunken fury, then fell on the top of him and lay
there.

I went for'ard and found all the natives on deck,
very excited and armed with knives. Addressing
them, I begged them to keep quiet and listen to me.

" The captain and mates are all drunk," I said, ** and
now is your chance to leave the ship. Funafuti is only
a league away. Get your clothes together as quickly

MUTINIES

as possible, then lower away the port quarter-boat. I,
too, am leaving this ship, and I want you to put me on
board the Hazeldine, Then you can go on shore.
Now, put up your knives and don't hurt those three
men, beasts as they are."

As I was speaking, Max the bos'un came forward and
listened. (I thought he was asleep.) He did not in-
terfere, merely giving me an expressive look. Then
he said to me: —

" Ask them to lock me up in the deck-house ".

Very quietly this was done, and then, whilst I got
together my personal belongings in the cabin, the boat
was lowered. The Yankee mate was sound asleep in
his bunk, but one of the Nui6 men took the key of his
door and locked it from the outside. Presently I
heard a sound of breaking wood, and going on deck,
found that the Gilbert Islanders had stove-in the star-
board quarter-boat and the long-boat (the latter was
on deck). Then I saw that the second mate was
lashed (bound hand and foot) to the pump-rail, and the
captain was lashed to one of the fife-rail stanchions.
His face was streaming with blood, and I thought he
was dead, but found that he had only been struck with
a belaying pin, which had broken his nose.

" He drew a lot of blood from us," said one of the
natives to me, "and so I have drawn some from
him."

I hurried to the deck-house and told the bos'un what
had occurred. He was a level-headed young man, and
taking up a carpenter's broad axe, smashed the door of
the deck-house. Then he looked at me and smiled.

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

" You see, Fm gaining my liberty — captain and officers
tied up, and no one to look after the ship."

I understood perfectly, and shaking hands with him
and wishing him a better ship, I went over the side
into the boat, and left the brig floating quietly on the
placid surface of the ocean.

The eight native sailors made no noise, although
they were all wildly excited and jubilant, but as we
shoved off, they called out "Good-bye, bos'un".

An hour afterwards I was on board the Hazeldiney
and telling my story to her skipper, who was an old
friend. Then I bade good-bye to the natives, who
started off for Funafuti with many expressions of good-
will to their fellow-mutineer.

At daylight a breeze came away from the eastward,
and at breakfast time the Hazeldine was out of sight
of the Alfreda,

I learnt a few months later that the skipper had suc-
ceeded in bringing her into Funafuti Lagoon, where he
managed to obtain another crew.

CHAPTER VI

" MANI "

Mani was a half-caste — father a Martinique nigger,
mother a Samoan — twenty-two years of age, and lived
at Moata, a little village two miles from Apia in
Samoa.

Mani's husband was a Frenchman named Francois
Renault, who, when he was sober, worked as a boat-
builder and carpenter, for the German ** factory" at
Mataf&le. And when he was away form home I would
hear Mani laughing, and see her playing' with her two
dark-skinned little girls, and talking to them in a curious
mixture of Samoan-French. They were merry mites
with big rolling eyes, and unnjistakably " kinky" hair —
like their mother.

It was a fortnight after the great gale of 15th March,
1889, when the six German and American warships
were wrecked, that Mani came to my house with a
basket of fresh-water fish she had netted far up in a deep
mountain pool. She looked very happy. ** Frank,"
she said, had not beaten her for two whole weeks, and
had promised not to beat her any more. And he
was working very steadily now.

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

" That is good to hear, Mani."

She smiled as she nodded her frizzy head, toss^ her
tiputa (open blouse) over one shoulder, and sat down
on the verandah steps to clean the fish.

** Yes, he will beat me no more — ^at least not whilst
the shipwrecked sailors remain in Samoa. When they
go I shall run away with the children — to some town
in Savai'i where he cannot find me."

" It happened in this way," she went on confidenti-
ally : ** a week ago two American sailors came to the
house and asked for water, for they were thirsty and
the sun was hot I told them that the Moata water
was brackish, and I husked and gave them two young
coco-nuts each. And then Frank, who had been drink-
ing, ran out of the house and cursed and struck me.
Then one of the sailors felled him to the earth, and the
other dragged him up by his collar, and both kicked
him so much that he wept

" ' Doth he often beat thee ? * said one of the sailors
to me. And I said * Yes *.

"Then they beat him again, saying it was for my
sake. And then one of them shook him and said : ' O
thou dog, to so misuse thine own wife! Now listen.
In three days' time we two of the Trenton will have
a day's liberty, and we shall come here and see if
thou hast again beaten thy wife. And if thou hast but
so much as mata pidd her we shall each kick thee one
hundred times/ "

{Mata piOy I must explain, is Samoan for looking
"cross-eyed" or unpleasantly at a person.)

" And Frank was very much afraid, and promised he

" MANI "

would no longer harm me, and held out his hand to
them weepingly, but they would not take it, and swore
at him. And then they each gave my babies a quarter
of a dollar, and I, because my heart was glad, gave them
each a ring of tortoiseshell."

** Did they come back, Mani ?"

Mani, at heart, was a flirt. She raised her big black
eyes with their long curling lashes to me, and then
closed them for a moment demurely.

** Yes," she replied, " they came back. And when I
told them that my husband was now kind to me, and
was at work, they laughed, and left for him a long
piece of strong tobacco tied round with tarred rope.
And they said, * Tell him we will come again by-and-
by, and see how he behaveth to theeV

" Mani," I said in English, as she finished the last of
the fish, ** why do you speak Samoan to me when you
know English so well ? Where did you learn it ? Your
husband always speaks French to you."

Mani told me her story. In her short life of two-
and-twenty years she had had some strange experi-
ences.

" My father was Jean Galoup. He was a negro of St
Pierre, in Martinique, and came to Samoa in a French
barque, which was wrecked on Tutuila. He was one
of the sailors. When the captain and the other sailors
made ready to go away in the boats he refused to go,
and being a strong, powerful man they dared not force
him. So he remained on Tutuila and married my
mother, and became a Samoan, and made much money

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

by selling food to the whaleships. Then, when I was
twelve years old, my mother died, and my father took
me to his own country — ^to Martinique. It took us
two years to get there, for we went through many
countries — to Sydney first, then to China, and to India,
and then to Marseilles in France. But always in Eng-
lish ships. That is how I have learned to speak Eng-
lish.

" We lived for three years in Martinique, and then
one day, as my father was clearing some land at the
foot of Mont Pelfee, he was bitten by ^./er-de-lance, and
died, and I was left alone.

" There was a young carpenter at St. Pierre, named
Francois Renault, who had one day met me in the
market-place, and after that often came to see my
father and me. He said he loved me, and so when my

father was dead, we went to the priest and we were

married.
''My husband had heard much of Samoa from

my father, and said to me : ' Let us go there and

live*.

"So we came here, and then Frank fell into evil

ways, for he was cross with me because he saw that the

pure-blooded Samoan girls were prettier than me, and

had long straight hair and lighter skins. And because

he could not put me away be began to treat me cruelly.

And I love him no more. But yet will I stay by him

if he doeth right."

The fates were kind to Mani a few months later.
Her husband went to sea and never returned, and Mani,

"MANI"

after waiting a year, was duly married by the consul to
a respectable old trader on Savai'i, who wanted a wife
with a " character " — ^the which is not always obtain-
able with a bride in the South Seas.

CHAPTER VII

AT NIGHT

The day's work was finished. Outside a cluster of
rudely built palm-thatched huts, just above the curving
white beach, and under the lengthening shadows of the
silent cocos, two white men (my partner and myself)
and a party of brown-skinned Polynesians were seated
together smoking, and waiting for their evening meal.
Now and then one would speak, and another would
answer in low, lazy tones. From an open shed under
a great jack-fruit tree a little distance away there came
the murmur of women's voices and, now and then, a
laugh. They were the wives of the brown men, and
were cooking supper for their husbands and the two white
men. Half a cable length from the beach a schooner lay
at anchor upon the still lagoon, whose waters gleamed red
under the rays of the sinking sun. Covered with awn-
ings fore and after she showed no sign of life, and rested '
as motionless as were the pendent branches of the lofty
cocos on the shore.

Presently a figure appeared on deck and went for'ard,
and then a bright light shone from the fore-stay.

My partner turned and called to the women, speaking

AT NIGHT

in Hawaiian, and bade two of them take their own and
the ship-keeper's supper on board, and stay for the night
Then he spoke to the men in English.

" Who keeps watch to-night with the other man ? "

" Me, sir," and a native rose to his feet

" Then off you go with your wife and Terese, and
don't set the ship on fire when you and your wife, and
Harry and his b^in squabbling as usual over your
game of tahia!* ^

The man laughed; the women, pretending to be
shocked, each placed one hand over her eyes, and with
suppressed giggles went down to the beach with the
man, canying a basket of steaming food. Launching
a light canoe they pushed off, and as the man paddled
the women sang in the soft Hawaiian tongue.

"Happy b^gars," said my comrade to me, as he
stood up and stretched his lengthy, stalwart figure,
" work all day, and sit up gambling and singing hymns
— when they are not intriguing with each other's hus-
bands and wives."

The place was Providence Atoll in the North Pacific,
a group of seventeen uninhabited islands lying midway
between the Marshall and Caroline Archipelagoes — that
is to say, that they had been uninhabited for some years,
until we came there with our gang of natives to catch
sharks and make coco-nut oil. There was no one to
deny us, for the man who claimed the islands, Captain
" BuUy " Hayes, had given us the right of possession for

1 ** Tahia " is a gambling game played with small round stones ; it
resembles our ** knuckle-bones '*.

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

two years, we to pay him a certain percentage of our pro-
fits on the oil we made, and the sharks' fins and tails we
cured. The story of Providence Atoll (the ** Arrecifos "
of the early Spanish navigators, and the " Ujilang" of
the native of Micronesia) cannot here be told — suffice it
to say that less than fifty years before over a thousand
people dwelt on the seventeen islands in some twelve or
fourteen villages. Then came some dread disease which
swept them away, and when Hayes sailed into the great
lagoon in 1 860 — his was the first ship that ever entered it
— he found less than a score of survivors. These he
treated kindly; but for some reason soon removed them
to Ponap^ in the Carolines, and then years passed with-
out the island being visited by any one except Hayes,
who used it as a rendezvous, and brought other natives
there to make oil for him. Then, in a year or so, these,
too, he took away, for he was a restless man, and had
many irons in the fire. Yet there was a fortune there,
as its present German owners know, for the great chain
of islands is covered with coco-nut trees which yield
many thousands of pounds' worth of copra annually.

My partner and I had been working the islands for
some months, and had done fairly well. Our native
crew devoted themselves altematel)f to shark catching
and oil making. The lagoon swarmed with sharks,
the fins and tails of which when dried were worth from
sixty to eighty pounds sterling per ton. (Nowadays the
entire skins of sharks are bought by some of the traders
on several of the Pacific Islands on behalf of a firm in
Germany, who have a secret method of tanning and
softening them^ and rendering them fit for many pur-

AT NIGHT

poses for which leather is used — travelh'ng bags, cover-
ings for trunks, etc.)

The women helped to make the oil, caught fish,
robber-crabs and turtle for the whole party, and we
were a happy family indeed. We usually lived on
shore, some distance from the spot where we dried the
shark-fins, for the odour was appalling, especially after
rain, and during a calm night. We dried them by
hanging them on long lines of coir cinnet between the
coco-palms of a little island half a mile from our camp.

But we did not always work. There were many
wild pigs — the progeny of domestic stock left by Cap-
tain Hayes — on the larger islands, and we would have
great " drives" every few weeks, the skipper and I with
our rifles, and our crew of fifteen, with their wives and
children, armed with spears. 'Twas great fun, and we
revelled in it like children. Sometimes we would bring
the ship's dog with us. He was a mongrel Newfound-
land, and very game, but was nearly shot several times
by getting in the way, for although all the islands are
very low, the undergrowth in parts is very dense. If
we failed to secure a pig we were certain of getting some
dozens of large robber-crabs, the most delicious of all
crustaceans when eitiier baked or boiled. Then, too,
we had the luxury of a v^etable garden, in which we
grew melons, pumpkins, cucumbers, onions, tomatoes,
etc. The seed (which was Californian) had been given
to me by an American skipper, and great was our
delight to have fresh European vegetables, for the
islands produced nothing in that way, except coco-
nuts and some jack-fruit. The lagoon teemed with an

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

immense variety of fish, none of which were poisonous,
and both green and hawk-bill turtle were captured
almost daily.

How those natives of ours could eat ! One morning
some of the children broi^ht five hundred turtle ^gs
into camp ; they were all eaten at three meals.

That calm, quiet night the heat was somewhat
oppressive, but about ten o'clock a faint air from the
eastward began to gently rustle the tops of the loftiest
palms on the inner beaches, though we felt it not,
owing to the dense undergrowth at the back of the
camp. Then, too, the mosquitoes were troublesome,
and a nanny-goat, who had lost her kid (in the oven)
kept up such an incessant blaring that we could stand
it no longer, and decided to walk across the island —
less than a mile — to the weather side, where we should
not only get the breeze, but be free of the curse of
mosquitoes.

" Over to the windward beach," we called out to our
natives.

In an instant, men, women and children were on
their feet. Torches of dried coco-nut leaves were
deftly woven by the women, sleeping mats rolled up
and given to the children to carry, baskets of cold
baked fish and vegetables hurriedly taken down from
where they hung under the eaves of the thatched huts,
and away we trooped eastward along the narrow path,
the red glare of the torches shining upon the smooth,
copper-bronzed and half-nude figures of the native men
and women. Singing as we went, half an hour's walk

AT NIGHT

brought us near to the sea And with the hum of the
surf came the cool breeze, as we reached the open, and
saw before us the gently heaving ocean, sleeping under
the light of the m3^iad stars.

We loved those quiet nights on the weather side of
Arrecifos. Our natives had built some thatched-roofed,
open-sided huts as a protection in case of rain, and
under the shelter of one of these the skipper and I
would, when it rained during the night, lie on our mats
and smoke and yam and watch the women and
children with lighted torches catching crayfish on the
reef, heedless of the rain which fell upon thencL Then,
when they had caught all they wanted, they would
troop on shore s^ain, come into the huts, change their
soaking waist girdles of leaves for waist-cloths of gaily-
coloured print or navy-blue calico, and set to work to
cook the crayfish, always bringing us the best. Then
came a general gossip and story-telling or singing in
our hut for an hour or so, and then some one would
yawn and the rest would laugh, bid us good-night, go
off to their mats, and the skipper and I would be asleep
ere we knew it.

CHAPTER VIII

THE CRANKS OF THE JVhlA BRIG

We were bound from Tahiti to the Gilbert Islands,
seeking a cargo of native labourers for Stewart's great
plantation at Tahiti, and had worked our way from
island to island up northward through the group with
fair success (having obtained ninety odd stalwart, brown-
skinned savages), when between Apaian Island and
Butaritari Island we spoke a lumbering, fat-sided old
brig — the Isabella of Sydney.

The Isabella was owned by a firm of Chinese mer-
chants in Sydney ; and as her skipper (Evers) and her
supercargo (Dick Warren) were old acquaintances of
mine and also of the captain of my ship, we both
lowered boats and exchanged visits.

Warren and I had not met for over two years, since
he and I had been shipmates in a labour vessel sailing
out of Samoa — he as mate and I as " recruiter " — so
we had much to talk about

" Oh, by-the-way," he remarked as we were saying
good-bye, "of course you have heard of that shipload
of unwashed saints who have been cruising around the
South Seas in search of a Promised Land ? "

" Yes, I believe that they have gone off to Tonga or

THE CRANKS OF THE JULIA BRIG

Fiji, trying to light upon 'the Home Beautiful/ and
are very hard up. The people in Fiji will have nothing
to do with that crowd — if they have gone there."

" They have not. They turned back for Honolulu,
and are now at Butaritari and in an awful mess. Some
of the saints came on board and wanted me to give
them a passage to Sydney. You must go and have
a look at them and their rotten old brig, the Julia,
Oh, they are a lovely lot — full of piety and as dirty
as Indian fakirs. Ah Sam, our agent at Butaritari, will
tell you all about them. He has had such a sickener
of the holy men that it will do you good to hear him
talk. What the poor devils are going to do I don't
know. I gave them a little provisions — all I could
spare, but their appearance so disgusted me that I was
not too civil to them. They cannot get away from
Butaritari as the old brig is not seaworthy, and there
is nothing in the way of food to be had in the island
except coco-nuts and fish — manna is out of season in
the South Seas just now. Good-bye, old man, and
good luck."

On the following day we sighted Butaritari Island
— one of the largest atolls in the North Pacific, and
inhabited by a distinctly unamiable and cantankerous
race of Malayo-Polynesians whose principal amuse-
ment in their lighter hours is to get drunk on sour
toddy and lacerate each other's bodies with sharks*
teeth swords. In addition to Ah Sam, the agent for
the Chinese trading firm, there were two European
traders who had married native women and eked out
a lonely existence by buying copra (dried coco-nut)

8i 6

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

and sharks' fins when they were sober enough to at-
tend to business — ^which was infrequent. However,
Butaritari was a good recruiting ground for ships engaged
in the labourtraffic, owing to the continuous internecine
wars, for the vanquished parties, after their coco-nut
trees had been cut down and their canoes destroyed had
the choice of remaining and having their throats cut or
going away in a labour ship to Tahiti, Samoa or the
Sandwich Islanda

Entering the passage through the reef, we sailed
slowly across the splendid lagoon, whose waters were
as calm as those of a lake, and dropped anchor abreast
of the principal village and quite near the ship of the
saints. She was a woe-begone, battered-looking old
brig of two hundred tons or so. She showed no colours
in response to ours, and we could see no one on deck.
Presently, however, we saw a man emerge from below,
then a woman, and presently a second man, and in a
few minutes she showed the Ecuadorian flag. Then all
three sat on chairs under the ragged awning and stared
listlessly at our ship.

Ah Sam came off from the shore and boarded us. He
was a long, melancholy Chinaman, had thirty-five hairs
of a beard, and, poor fellow, was dying of consumption.
He told us the local news, and then I asked him about
the cargo of saints, many more of whom were now
visible on the after-deck of their disreputable old crate.

Ah Sam's thin lips parted in a ghastly smile, as he
set down his whisky and soda, and lit a cigar. We were
seated under the awning, which had just been spread,
and so had a good view of the Julia.

THE CRANKS OF THE /[/LI A BRIG

The brig, he said, had managed to crawl into the
lagoon three months previously, and in working up to
an anchorage struck on one of the coral mushrooms with
which the atoll is studded. Ah Sam and the two white
traders went off with their boats' crews of natives to
render assistance, and after some hours* hard work suc-
ceeded in getting her off and towing her up to the spot
where she was then anchored. Then the saints gathered
on the after-deck and held a thanksgiving meeting, at
the conclusion of which, the thirsty and impatient traders
asked the captain to give them and their boats' crews a
few bottles of liquor in return for their services in pulling
his brig off the rocks, and when he reproachfully told
them that the /ulia was a temperance ship and that
drink was a curse and that God would reward them for
their kindness, they used most awful language and went
off, cursing the captain and the saints for a lot of mean
blackguards and consigning them to everlasting tor-
ments.

On the following day all the Hawaiian crew bolted on
shore and took up their quarters with the natives. The
captain came on shore and tried to get other natives in
their place, but failed — for he had no money to pay
wages, but offered instead the privil^e of becoming
members of what Ah Sam called some "dam fool
society".

There were, said Ah Sam, in addition to the captain
and his wife, originally twenty-five passengers, but half
of them had left the ship at various ports.

"And now," he concluded, pointing a long yellow
forefinger at the rest of the saints, " the rest of them

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

will be coming to see you presently — the tam teives —
to see wha* they can cadge from you."

"You don't like them, Ah Sam?" observed our
skipper, with a twinkle in his eye.

Ah Sam's reply could not be put upon paper. For a
Chinaman he could swear in English most fluently.
Then he bade us good-bye for the present, said he would
do all he could to help me get some "recruits," and
invited us to dinner with him in the evening. He was
a good-natured, hospitable fellow, and we accepted the
invitation with pleasure.

A few minutes after he had gone on shore the
brigan tine's boat came alongside, and her captain and
three of his passengers stepped on board. He intro-
duced himself as Captain Lynch Richards, and his
friends as Brothers So-and-So of the " Islands Brothers*
Association of Christians ". They were a dull, melan-
choly looking lot, Richards alone showing some mental
and physical activity. Declining spirituous refresh-
ments, they all had tea and something to eat. Then
they asked me if I would let them have some provisions,
and accept trade goods in payment.

As they had no money — except about one hundred
dollars between them — I let them have what provisions
we could spare, and then accepted their invitation to
visit the Julia,

I went with them in their own boat — two of the
saints pulling — and as they flopped the blades of their
oars into the water and I studied .their appearance, I
could not but agree with Dick Warren's description —
"as dirty as Indian fakirs," for not only were their

THE CRANKS OF THE JULIA BRIG

garments dirty, but their faces looked as if they had
not come into contact with soap and water for a twelve-
month. Richards, the skipper, was a comparatively
young man, and seemed to have given some little at-
tention to his attire, for he was wearing a decent suit
of navy blue with a clean collar and tie.

Getting alongside we clambered on deck — there was
no side ladder — and I was taken into the cabin where
Richards introduced me to his wife. She was a pretty,
fragile-looking young woman of about five and twenty
years of age, and looked so worn out and unhappy that
my heart was filled with pity. During the brief con-
versation we held I asked her if she and her husband
would come on board our vessel in the afternoon and
have tea, and mentioned that we had piles and piles of
books and magazines on the ship to which she could
help herself.

Her eyes filled with tears. '' I guess I should like
to," she said as she looked at her husband.

Then I was introduced to the rest of the company in
turn, as they sat all round the cabin, half a dozen of
them on the transom lockers reminding me somehow
of dejected and meditative storks. Glad of an excuse
to get out of the stuffy and ill-ventilated cabin and the
uninspiring society of the unwashed Brethren, I eagerly
assented to the captain's suggestion to have a look
round the ship before we "talked business," /.^., con-
cerning the trade goods I was to select in payment for
the provisions with which I had supplied him. One of
the Brethren, an elderly, goat-faced person, came with
us, and we returned on deck.

«5

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

Never before had I seen anything like the Julia,
She was an old, soft-pine-built ex-Puget Sound lumber-
man, literally tumbling to decay, aloft and below. Her
splintering decks, to preserve them somewhat from the
torrid sun, were covered over with old native mats, and
her spars, from want of attention, were splitting open in
great gaping cracks, and were as black as those of a
collier. How such a craft made the voyage from San
Francisco to Honolulu, and from there far to the south
of the Line and then back north tp the Gilbert Group,
was a marvel.

I was taken down the hold and showed what the
** cranks " called their trade goods and asked to select what
I thought was a fair thing in exchange for the provisions
I had given them . Heavens ! Such a collection of utter,
utter rubbish ! second-hand musical boxes in piles, gaudy
lithc^raphs, iron bedsteads, " brown paper " boots and
shoes eaten half away by cockroaches. Sets of cheap
and nasty toilet ware, two huge cases of common and
much damaged wax dolls, barrels of rotted dried apples,
and decayed pork, an ice-making plant, bales and bales
of second-hand clothing — ^men's, women's and children's
— cheap and poisonous sweets in jars, thousands of two-
penny looking-glasses, penny whistles, accordions that
wouldn't accord, as the cockroaches had eaten them up
except the wood and metal work, school slates and
pencils, and a box of Bibles and Moody and Sankey
hymn-books. And the smell was something awful ! I
asked the captain what was the cause of it — it over-
powered even the horrible odour of the decayed pork
and rotted apples. He replied placidly that he thought

^Pi

THE CRANKS OF THE JULIA BRIG

it came from a hundred kegs of salted salmon bellies
which were stowed below everything else, and that he
"guessed some of them hed busted ".

" It is enough to breed a pestilence," I said ; ** why do
you not all turn-to, get the stuff up and heave it over-
board ? You must excuse me, captain, but for Heaven's
sake let us get on deck."

On returning to the poop we found that the skipper
of our vessel had come on board, and was conversing
with Mrs. Richards. I took him aside and told him
of what I had seen, and suggested that we should make
them a present of the provisions. He quite agreed with
me, so turning to Captain Richards and the goat-faced
old man and several other of the Brethren who had
joined them, I said that the captain and I hoped that
they would accept the provisions from us, as we felt sure
that our owners would not mind. And I also added
that we would send them a few b^s of flour and some
other things during the course of the day. And then
the captain, knowing that Captain Richards and his wife
were coming to have tea with us, took pity on the
Brethren and said, he hoped they would all come to
breakfast in the morning.

Poor beggars. Grateful ! Of course they were, and
although they were sheer lunatics — religious lunatics
such as the United States produces by tens of thou-
sands every year — ^we felt sincerely sorry for them
when they told us their miserable story. The spokes-
man was an old fellow of sixty with long flowing hair —
the brother-in-law of the man with the goat's face —
and an enthusiast But mad — mad as a hatter.

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

"The Islands Brothers' Association of Christians"
had its genesis in Philadelphia. It was formed " by a
few pious men to found a settlement in the South Seas,
till the soil, build a temple, instruct the savages, and
live in peace and happiness". Twenty-eight persons
joined and seven thousand dollars were raised in one
way and another — mostly from other lunatics. Many
" sympathisers " gave goods, food, etc., to help the cause
(hence the awful rubbish in the hold), and at 'Frisco
they spent one thousand five hundred dollars in buying
** trade goods to barter with the simple natives ". At
'Frisco the Julia, then lying condemned, was bought for
a thousand dollars — she was not worth three hundred
dollars, and was put under the Ecuadorian flag. '' God*
sent them friends in Captain Richards and his wife,"
ambled on the old man. Richards became a " Brother "
and joined them to sail the ship and find an island
"rich and fertile in God's gifts to man, and with a
pleasant people dwelling thereon".

With a scratch crew of 'Frisco dead beats the brig
reached Honolulu. The crew at once cleared out, and
several of the "Brothers," with their wives, returned
to America — they had had enough of it. After some
weeks' delay Richards managed to get four Hawaiian
sailors to ship, and the vessel sailed again for the Isle
Beautiful. He didn't know exactly where to look for
it, but he and the " Brothers " had been told that there
were any amount of them lying around in the South
Seas, and they would have some trouble in making a
choice out of so many.

The story of their insane wanderings after the Julia

THE CRANKS OF THE JULIA BRIG

went south of the equator would have been diverting
had it not been so distressing. The mate, who we
gathered was both a good seaman and a competent
navigator, was drowned through the capsizing of a boat
on the reef of some island between the Gilbert Group
and Rarotonga, and with his- death what little disci-
pline, and cohesiveness had formerly existed gradu-
ally vanished. Richards apparently knew how to
handle his ship, but as a navigator he was nowhere.
Incredible as it may seem, his general chart of the
North and South Pacific was thirty years old, and was
so torn, stained and greasy as to be all but undecipher-
able. As the weary weeks went by and they went
from island to island, only to be turned away by the
inhabitants, they at last began to realise the folly of
the venture, and most of them wanted to return to San
Francisco. But Richards clung to the belief that they
only wanted patience to find a suitable island where
the natives would be glad to receive them, and where
they could settle down in peace. Failing that, he had
the idea that there were numbers of fertile and unin-
habited islands, one of which would suit the Brethren
almost as well. But as time went on he too grew
despondent, and turned the brig's head northward for
Honolulu ; and one day he blundered across Butaritari
Island and entered the lagoon in the hope of at least
getting ^some provisions. And again the crew bolted
and left the Brethren to shift for themselves. Week
after week, month after month went by, the provisions
were all gone except weevily biscuit and rotten pork,
and they passed their time in wandering about the

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

beaches of the lagoon and waiting for assistance. And
yet there were two or three of them who still believed
in the vision of the Isle Beautiful and were still hopeful
that they might get there. " All we want is another
crew," these said to us.

Our skipper shook his head, and then talked to them
plainly, calling upon me to corroborate him.

" You will never get a crew. No sailor-man would
ever come to sea in a crate like this. And you'll find
no islands anywhere in the Pacific where you can settle
down, unless you can pay for it. The natives will
chivvy you off if you try to land. I know them — ^you
don't. The people in America who encouraged you
in this business were howling lunatics. Your ship is
falling to pieces, and I warn you that if you once leave
this lagoon in her, you will never see land again."

They were silent, and then the old man began to
weep, and said they would there and then pray for
guidance.

** All right," said the skipper, " go ahead, and I'll get
my mate and the carpenter to come and tell you their
opinion of the state of this brig."

The mate and carpenter made an examination, told
Captain Richards in front of his passengers that the
ship was utterly unseaworthy, and that he would be
a criminal if he tried to put to sea again. That settled
the business, especially after they had asked me to
value their trade goods, and I told them frankly that
they were literally not worth valuing, and to throw
them overboard.

Ten days later the Brotherhood broke up — an Ameri-

THE CRANKS OF THE JULIA BRIG

can trading schooner came into the lagoon and her
captain offered to take them to Jakiit in the Marshall
Islands, where they were certain of getting a passage
to Honolulu in some whaleship.' They all accepted
with the exception of Richards and his wife who refused
to leave the Julia. The poor fellow had his pride and
would not desert his ship. However, as his wife was
ailing, he had a small house built on shore and managed
to make a few hundred dollars by boat-building. But
every day he would go off and have a look round the
old brig to see if everything on board was all right
Then one night there came a series of heavy squalls
which raised a lumpy sea in the lagoon, and when
morning broke only her top-masts were visible — she
had gone down at her anchors.

Richards and his fellow-cranks were the forerunners
of other bands of ignorant enthusiasts who in later
years endeavoured to foist themselves upon the natives
of the Pacific Islands and met with similar and well-
merited disaster. Like"" the ill-fated " La Nouvelle
France " colony of the notorious Marquis de Ray, all
these land-stealing ventures set about their exploits
under the cloak of religion. One, under a pretended
concession from the Mexican Government, founded a
** Christian Redemption Colony" of scallywags, loafers
and loose women at Me^dalena Bay in Lower California,
and succeeded in getting many thousands of pounds
from foolish people. Then came a party of Mormon
Evangelists who actually bought and paid for land in
Samoa and conducted themselves decently and are
probably living there now. After them came the

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

wretched Percy Edward band of pilgrims to found a
" happy home " in the South Seas. They called them-
selves the " United Brotherhood of the South Sea
Islands ". In another volume, in an article describing
my personal experiences of the disastrous " Nouvelle
France" expedition to New Ireland,^ I have alluded
to the Percy Edward affair in these words, which I
may be permitted to quote : ** The Percy Edward was
a wretched old tub of a brigantine (formerly a Tahiti-
San Francisco mail packet). She was bought in the
latter port by a number of people who intended to
found a Socialistic Utopia, where they were to pluck
the wild goat by the beard, pay no rent to the native
owners of the soil, and, letting their hair grow down
their backs, lead an idyllic life and loaf around generally.
Such a mad scheme could have been conceived nowhere
else but in San Francisco or Paris. . . . The result of
the Marquis de Ray's expedition ought to have made
the American enthusiasts reflect a little before they
started. But having the idea that they could sail on
through summer seas till they came to some land fair
to look upon, and then annex it right away in the
sacred name of Socialism (and thus violate one of the
principles of true Socialism), they sailed — only to be
quickly disillusionised. For there were no islands any-
where in the North and South Pacific to be had for
the taking thereof; neither were there any tracts of
land to be had from the natives, except for hard cash
or its equivalent. The untutored Kanakas also, with
whom they came in contact, refused to become brother

^Kidan tht Devil: T. Fisher Unwin, London.

THE CRANKS OF THE JULIA BRIG

Socialists and go shares with the long-haired wanderers
in their land or anything else. So from island unto
island the Percy Edward cruised, looking more disre-
putable every day, until as the months went by she
b^an to resemble in her tattered gear and dejected
appearance her fatuous passengers. At last, after being
considerably chivvied about by the white and native
inhabitants of the various islands touched at, the for-
lorn expedition reach Fiji. Here fifty of the idealists
elected to remain and work for their living under a
Government . . . But the remaining fifty-eight stuck
to the Percy Edward^ and her decayed salt junk and
putrid water, and their beautiful ideals ; till at last the
ship was caught in a hurricane, badly battered about,
lost her foremast, and only escaped foundering by
reaching New Caledonia and settling her keel on the
bottom of Noumea harbour. Then the visionaries
began to collect their senses, and denounced the Percy
Edward and the principles of the * United Brother-
hood' as hollow frauds, and elected to abandon her
and go on shore and get a good square meal. What
became of them at Noumea I did not hear, but do
know that in their wanderings they received much
charitable assistance from British shipmasters and
missionaries — in some cases their passages were paid
to the United States — the natural and proper country
for the ignorant religious * crank '.'

I >t

CHAPTER IX

" DANDY," THE SHIP'S DINGO

We anchored under Cape Bedford (North Queensland)
one day, and the skipper and I went on shore to bathe
in one of the native-made rocky water-holes near the
Cape. We found a native police patrol camped there,
and the officer asked us if we would like to have a
dingo pup for a pet. His troopers had caught two of
them the previous day. We said we should like to
possess a dingo.

" Bring him here, Dandy," said the officer to one of
his black troopers, and Dandy, with a grin on his sooty
face, brought to us a lanky-legged pup about three
months old. Its colour was a dirty yellowish red, but
it gave promise of turning out a dog — of a kind. The
captain put out his hand to stroke it, and as quick as
lightning it closed its fang-like teeth upon his thumb.
With a bull-like bellow of rage, the skipper was about
to hurl the savage little beast over the cliffs into the
sea, when I stayed his hand.

"He'll make a bully ship-dog," I urged, "just the
right kind of pup to chivvy the niggers over the side
when we get to the Louisiades and Solomons. Please

« DANDY," THE SHIP'S DINGO

don't choke the little beggar, Ross. 'Twas only fear,
not rage, that made him go for you."

We made a temporary muzzle from a bit of fishing
line; bade the officer good-bye, and went off to the
ship.

We were nearly a month beating up to the Solomons,
and in that time we gained some knowledge of Dand/s
character. (We named him after the black trooper.)
He was fawningly, sneakingly, offensively affectionate
— ^when he was hungry, which was nearly always ; as
ferocious and as spiteful as a tiger cat when his stom-
ach was full ; then, with a snarling yelp, he would put
his tail beneath his legs and trot for'ard, turning his
head and showing his teeth. Crawling under the barrel
of the windlass he would lie there and go to sleep, only
opening his eyes now and then to roll them about vin-
dictively when any one passed by. Then when he was
hungry again, he would crawl out and slouch aft with a
"please-do-be-kind-to-a-poor-dog" expression on his
treacherous face. Twice when we were sailing close to
the land he jumped overboard, and made for the shore,
though he couldn't swim very well and only went round
and round in circles. On each occasion a native sailor
jumped over after him and brought him back, and each
time he bit his rescuer.

"Never mind him, sir," said the mate to Ross one
day, when the angry skipper fired three shots at Dandy
for killing the ship's cat — missed him and nearly killed
the steward, who had put his head out of the galley
door to see th6 fun — "there's money in that dog. I

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

wouldn't mind bettin' half-a-sov that Charley Nyberg,
the trader on Santa Anna, will give five pounds for
him. He'll go for every nigger he's sooled on to.
You mark my words."

In the fore-hold we had a hundred tons of coal des-
tined for one of H.M. cruisers then surveying in the
Solomon Group. We put Dandy down there to catch
rats, and gave him nothing but water. Here he
showed his blood. We could hear the scraping about
of coal, and the screams of the captured rodents, as
Dandy tore round the hold after them. In three days
there were no more rats left, and Dandy began to utter
his weird, blood-curdling howls — he wanted to come on
deck. We lashed him down under the force pump,
and gave him a thorough wash-down. He shook him-
self, showed his teeth at us and tore off to the galley in
search of food. The cook gave him a lat^e tinful of
rancid fat, which was at once devoured, then he fled to
his retreat under the windlass, and began to growl and
moan. By-and-by we made Santa Anna.

Charley Nyberg, after he had tried the dog by set-
ting him on to two Solomon Island ** bucks " who were
loafing around his house, and seen how the beast could
bite, said he would give us thirteen dollars and a fat
hog for him. We agreed, and Dandy was taken on
shore and chained up outside the cook-house to keep
away thieving natives.

About nine o'clock that evening, as the skipper and
I were sitting on deck, we heard a fearful yell from
Charley's house — a few hundred yards away from where

"DANDY," THE SHIP'S DINGO

we were anchored. The yell was followed by a wild
clamour from many hundreds of native throats, and we
saw several scores of people rushing towards the trader's
dwelling. Then came the sound of two shots in quick
succession.

**Haul the boat alongside," roared our skipper,
" there's mischief going on on shore."

In a minute we, with the boat's crew, had seized our
arms, tumbled into the boat and were racing for the
beach.

Jumping out, we tore to the house. It seemed
pretty quiet. Charley was in his sitting-room, binding
up his wife's hand, and smoking in an unconcerned sort
of a way.

" What is wrong, Charley ? " we asked.

** That infernal mongrel of yours nearly bit my wife's
hand off. Did it when she tried to stroke him. I soon
settled him. If you go to the back you will see some
native women preparing the brute for the oven. The
niggers here like baked dog. Guess you fellows will
have to give me back that thirteen dollars. But you
can keep the hog."

So Dandy came to a just and fitting end.

;
I

CHAPTER X

KALA-HOI, THE NET-MAKER

Old Kala-hoi\ the net-maker, had ceased work for the
day, and was seated on a mat outside his little house,
smoking his pipe, looking dreamily out upon the blue
waters of Leone Bay, on Tutuila Island, and enjoying
the cool evening breeze that blew upon his bare limbs
and played with the two scanty tufts of snow-white
hair that grew just above his ears.

As he sat and smoked in quiet content, Marsh (the
mate of our vessel) and I discerned him from the beach,
as we stepped out of the boat We were both tired —
Marsh with weighing and stowing bags of copra in the
steaming hold, and I with paying the natives for it in
trade goods — a task that had taken me from dawn till
supper time. Then, as the smell of the copra and the
heat of the cabin were not conducive to the enjoyment
of supper, we first had a bathe alongside the ship, got
into clean pyjamas and came on shore to have a chat
with old Kala-hoi.

" Got anything to eat, Kala-hoi ? " we asked, as we
sat down on the mat, in front of the ancient, who
smilingly bade us welcome.

KALA-HOI, THE NET-MAKER

** My oven is made ; and in it are a fat mullet, four
breadfruit, some taro and plenty of ifi (chestnuts). For
to-day is Saturday, and I have cooked for to-morrow
as well as for to-night." Then lapsing into his native
Hawaiian (which both my companion and I understood),
he added, " And most heartily are ye welcome. In a
little while the oven will be ready for uncovering and we
shall eat."

'* But how will you do for food to-morrow, Kala-hoi ? "
inquired Marsh, with a smile and speaking in English.

" To-morrow is not yet. When it comes I shall have
more food. I have but to ask of others and it is given
willingly. And even if it were not so, I would but have
to pluck some more breadfruit or dig some taro and
kill a fowl — and cook again to night." And then with
true native courtesy he changed the subject and asked
us if we had enjoyed our swim. Not much, we replied,
the sea-water was too warm from the heat of the sun.

He nodded. " Aye, the day has been hot and wind-
less until now, when the cool land breeze comes down
between the valleys from the mountains. But why did
ye not bathe in the stream in the fresh water, as I have
just done. It is a good thing to do, for it makes hunger
as well as cleanses the skin, and that the salt water will
not do."

Marsh and I lit our pipes. The old man rose, went
into his house and returned with a large mat and two
bamboo pillows, telling us it would be more comfortable
to lie down and rest our backs, for he knew that we had
'* toiled much during the day ". Then he resumed his
own mat again, and crossed his hands on his tatooed

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

knees, for although not a Samoan he was tatooed in
the Samoan fashion. Beside him was a Samoan Bible,
for he was a deeply religious old fellow, and could both
read and write.

'' How comes it, Kala, that thou livest all alone half
a league from the village ? " asked Marsh.

Kala-hoi showed his still white and perfect teeth in a
smile.

"Ah, why? Because, O friend, this is mine own
land. I am, as thou knowest, of Maui, in Hawaii, and
though for thirty and nine years have I lived in Samoa,
yet now that my wife and two sons are dead, I would
be by myself. This land, which measures two hundred
fathoms on three sides, and one hundred at the beach,
was given to me by Mauga, King of Tutuila, because,
ten years s^o, when his son was shot in the thigh with
a round bullet, I cut it out from where it had lodged
against the bone."

" How old are you, Kala-hoi ? "

** I know not. But I am old, very old.^; Yet I am
young — still young. I was a grown man when Wilkes,
the American Commodore, came to Samoa. And I
went on board the Vincennes when she came to Apia,
and because I spoke English well, le alii Saua (* the
cruel captain '), as we called him,* made much of me,
and treated me with some honour. Ah, he was a stem
man, and his eye was as the eye of an eagle."

Marsh nodded acquiescence. '' Aye, he was a strong,
stem man. More than a score of years after thou hadst

^ Wilket waa called ** the cruel captain ** by the Samoana on account
of his iron discipline.

xoo

KALA-HOr. THE NET-MAKER

seen him here in Samoa, he was like to have brought
about a bloody war between my country and his. Yet
he did but what was right and just — to my mind. And
I am an Englishman,"

Kala-hoi blew a stream of smoke through his
nostrils.

" Aye, indeed, a stem man, and with a bitter tongue:
But because of his cruelty to his men was he punished,
for in Fiji the kai tagata (cannibals) killed his nephew.
And yet he spoke always kindly to me, and gave me
ten Mexican dollars because I did much interpretation
for him with the chiefs of Samoa. . . . One day there
came on board the ship two white men; they were
papalagi tdfm (beachcombers) and were like Samoans,
for they wore no clothes, and were tatooed from their
waists to their knees as I am. They went to the fore-
part of the ship and began talking to the sailors. They
were vety saucy men and proud of their appearance.
The or them, and he looked at them

witl I Englishman, the other a Dane.

Thi

" ' he said, and he spat over the

side tempt ' Were ye Americans I

wou I and give ye each a hundred

lash thyselves. Out of my ship, ye

filth "hou art a di^race to thy race I '

So that they could not speak, and

wen

"Thou hast seen many things in thy time, Kala-hoi."

" Nay, .friend. Not such things as thou hast seen —
such as the sun at midnight, of which thou hast told me.

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

and which had any man but thou said it, I would have
cried ' Liar ! ' "

Marsh laughed — " Yet 'tis true, old Kala-hoi. I have
seen the sun at midnight, many, many times."

"Aye. Thou sayest, and I believe. Now, let me
uncover my oven so that we may eat. Tis a fine fat
mullet"

After we had eaten, the kindly old man brought us a
bowl of water in which to lave our hands, and then a
spotless white towel, for he had associated much with
Europeans in his younger days and had adopted many
of their customs. On Sundays he always wore to church
coat, trousers, shirt, collar and necktie and boots (minus
socks) and covered his bald pate with a wide hat olfcda
leaf. Moreover, he was a deacon.

Presently we heard voices, and a party of young
people of both sexes appeared. They had been bath-
ing in the stream and were now returning to the village.
In most of them I recognised " customers " of mine dur-
ing the day — they were carrying baskets and bundles
containing the goods bought from the ship. They all
sat down around us, began to make cigarettes of strong
twist tobacco, roll it in strips of dried banana leaf, and
gossip. Then Kala-hoi — although he was a deacon —
asked the girls if they would make us a bowl of kava.
They were only too pleased, and so Kala-hoi again rose,
went to his house and brought out a root of kava, the
kava-bowl and some gourds of water, and gave them to
the giggling maidens who, securing a mat for themselves,
withdrew a little distance and proceeded to make the

xoa

KALA-HOI, THE NET-MAKER

drink, the young men attending upon them to cut the
kava into thin, flaky strips, and leaving us three to our-
selves. Night had come, and the bay was very quiet.
Here and there on the opposite side lights began to
gleam through the lines of palms on the beach from iso-
lated native houses, as the people ate their evening meal
by the bright flame of a pile of coco-nut shells or a lamp
of coco-nut oil.

Marsh wanted the old man to talk.

'* How long since is it that thy wife and sons died,
Kala-hoi?"

The old man placed his brown, shapely hand on the
seaman's knee, and answered softiy : —

" Tis twenty years ".

" They died tc^ether, did they not ? "

"Nay — not together, but on the same day. Thou
hast heard something of it ? "

** Only something. And if it doth not hurt thee to
speak of it, I should like to know how such a great
misfortune came to thee."

The net-maker looked into the white man's face,
and read sympathy in his eyes.

" Friend, this was the way of it. Because of my use-
fulness to him as an interpreter of English, Taula, chief
of Samatau, gave me his niece, Mo^, in marriage. She
was a strong girl, and handsome, but had a sharp tongue.
Yet she loved me, and I loved her.

" We were happy. We lived at the town of Tufu on
the itupapa " (iron-bound coast) " of Savai'i. Mo^ bore
me boy twins. They grew up strong, hardy and

103

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

courageous, though, like their mother, they were quick-
tempered, and resented reproof, even from me, their
father. And often they quarrelled and fought

"When they were become sixteen years of age, they
were tatooed in the Samoan fashion, and that cost me
much in money and presents. But Tui, who was the
elder by a little while, was jealous that his brother Galu
had been tatooed first And yet the two loved each
other — as I will show thee.

" One day my wife and the two boys went into the
mountains to get wild bananas. They cut three heavy
bunches and were returning home, when Galu and Tui
b^an to quarrel, on the steep mountain path. They
came to blows, and their mother, in trying to separate
them, lost her footing and fell far below on to a bed of
lava. She died quickly.

** The two boys descended and held her dead body in
their arms for a long while, and wept together over her
face. Then they carried her down the mountain side
into the village, and said to the people : —

" * We, Tui and Galu, have killed our mother through
our quarrelling. Tell our father Kala-hoi, that we fear
to meet him, and now go to expiate our crime.'

" They ran away swiftly ; they climbed the mountain
side, and, with arms around each other, sprang over the
cliff from which their mother had fallen. And when I,
and many others with me, found them, they were both
dead.''

" Thou hast had a bitter sorrow, Kala-hoL"

" Aye, a bitter sorrow. But yet in my dreams I see

I04

KALA-HOI, THE NET-MAKER

them all. And sometimes, even in my work, as I make
my nets, I hear the boys' voices, quarrelling, and my
wife saying, * Be still, yt boys, lest I call thy father to
chastise thee both '. "

As the girls brought us the kava Marsh put his hand
on the old, smooth, brown pate, and saw that the eyes
of the net-maker were filled with teara

K>5

CHAPTER XI

THE KANAKA LABOUR TRADE IN THE PACIFIC

THE^ai has gone forth from the Australian Common-
wealth, and the Kanaka labour trade, as far as the
Australian Colonies are concerned, has ceased to exist
For, during the month of November, 1906, the Queens-
land Government began to deport to their various islands
in the Solomon and New Hebrides Groups, the last
of the Melanesian native labourers employed on the
Queensland sugar plantations.

The Kanaka labour traffic, generally termed " black-
birding," began about 1863, when sugar and cotton
planters found that natives of the South Sea Islands
could be secured at a much less cost than Chinese or
Indian coolies. The genesis of the traffic was a tragedy,
and filled the world with horror.

Three armed Peruvian ships, manned by gangs of
cut-throats, appeared in the South Pacific, and seized
over four hundred unfortunate natives in the old Afri-

X06

KANAKA LABOUR TRADE IN THE PACIFIC

can slave-trading fashion, and carried them away to
work the guano deposits on the Chincha Islands. Not
a score of them returned to their island homes — the
rest perished under the lash and brutality of their cruel
taskmasters.

Towards 1870 the demand for South Sea Islanders
became very great. They were wanted in the Sand-
wich Islands, in Tahiti and Samoa; for, naturally
enough, with their ample food supply, the natives of
these islands do not like plantation work, or if em-
ployed demand a high rate of pay. Then, too, the
Queensland and Fijian sugar planters joined in the
quest, and at one time there were over fifty vessels en-
gaged in securing Kanakas from the Gilbert Islands,
the Solomon and New Hebrides Groups, and the great
islands near New Guinea.

At that time there was no Government supervision of
the traffic. Any irresponsible person could fit out a
ship, and bring a cargo of human beings into port —
obtained by means fair or foul — ^and no questions were
asked.

Very soon came the news of the infamous story of
the brig Carl^ and her fiendish owner, a Dr. Murray,
who with half a dozen other scoundrels committed the
most awful crimes — shooting down in cold blood scores
of natives who refused to be coerced into ** recruiting".
Some of these ruffians went to the scaffold or to long
terms of imprisonment ; and from that time the British
Government in a maundering way set to work to effect
some sort of supervision of the British ships employed
in the "blackbirding" trade.

107

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

A fleet of five small gunboats (sailing vessels) were
built in Sydney, and were ordered to ** overhaul and in-
spect " every " blackbirder," and ascertain if the ** black-
birds" were really willing recruits, or had been deported
against their will, and were "to be sold as slaves".
And many atrocious deeds came to light, with the re-
sult, as far as Queensland was concerned, that every
labour ship had to carry a Government agent, who was
supposed to see that no abuses occurred. Some of
these Government agents were conscientious men, and
did their duty well; others were mere tools of the
greedy planters, and lent themselves to all sorts of vil-
lainies to obtain "recruits" and get an in camera bonus
of twenty pounds for every native they could entice on
board.

Owing to my knowledge of Polynesian and Melane-
sian dialects, I was frequently employed as "recruiter"
on [Qany " blackbirders " — French vessels from Noum6a
in New Caledonia, Hawaiian vessels from Honolulu, and
German and English vessels sailing from Samoa and
Fiji, and in no instance did I ever have any serious
trouble with my ** blackbirds " after they were once on
board the ship of which I was " recruiter ".

Let me now describe an ordinary cruise of a " black-
birder " vessel — an honest ship with an honest skipper
and crew, and, above all, a straight " recruiter " — a man
who takes his life in his hands when he steps out, un-
armed, from his boat, and seeks for " recruits " from a
crowd of the wildest savages imaginable.

Labour ships carry a double crew — one to work the
ship, the other to man the boats, of which there are

io8

KANAKA LABOUR TRADE IN THE PACIFIC

usually four on ordinary-sized vessels. They are whale-
boats, specially adapted for surf work. The boats* crews
are invariably natives — Rotumah men, Samoans, or
Savage Islanders. The ship's working crew also are in
most cases natives, and the captain and officers are, of
course, white men.

The 'tween decks are fitted to accommodate so many
"blackbirds," and, at the present day, British labour
ships are models of cleanliness, for the Government super-
vision is very rigid ; but in former days the hold of a
" blackbirder " often presented a horrid spectacle — ^the
unfortunate " recruits " being packed so closely together,
and at night time the odour from their steaming bodies
was absolutely revolting as it ascended from the open
hatch, over which stood two sentries on the alert ; for
sometimes the " blackbirds " would rise and attempt to
murder the ship's company. In many cases they did
so successfully — especially when the " blackbirds " came
from the same island, or group of islands, and spoke
the same language. When there were, say, a hundred
or two hundred "recruits" from various islands, dis-
similar in their language and customs, there was no
fear of such an event, and the captain and officers and
** recruiter " went to sleep with a feeling of security.

Let us now suppose that a " blackbirder " (obnoxious
name to many recruiters) from Samoa, Fiji, or Queens-
land, has reached one of the New Hebrides, or Solomon
Islands. Possibly she may anchor — if there is an
anchorage ; but most likely she will "lie off and on,"
and send away her boats to the various villages.

On one occasion I " worked " the entire length of one

109

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

side of the great island of San Cristoval, visiting nearly
every village from Cape Recherche to Cape Surville.
This took nearly three weeks, the ship following the
boats along the coast We would leave the ship at day-
light, and pull in shore, landing wherever we saw a
smoke signal, or a village. When I had engaged, say,
half a dozen recruits, I would send them off on board, and
continue on my way. At sunset I would return on
board, the boats would be hoisted up, and the ship either
anchor, or heave-to for the night On this particular
trip the boats were only twice fired at, but no one man
of my crews was hit.

The boats are known as " landing " and " covering "
boats. The former is in command of an officer and the
recruiter, carries five hands (all armed) and also the
boxes of " trade " goods to be exhibited to the natives
as specimens of the rest of the goods on board, or per-
haps some will be immediately handed over as an '^ ad-
vance '* to any native willing to recruit as a labourer in
Queensland or elsewhere for three years, at the mag-
nificent wage of six pounds per annum, generally paid
in rubbishing articles, worth about thirty shillings.

The "covering" boat is in charge of an officer, or
reliable seaman. She follows the *^ landing " boat at a
short distance, and her duty is to cover her retreat if
the natives should attack the landing boat by at once
opening fire, and giving those in that boat a chance of
pushing off and getting out of danger, and also she
sometimes receives on board the "recruits " as they are
engaged by the recruiter — if the latter has not been
knocked on the head or speared.

ZZO

KANAKA LABOUR TRADE IN THE PACIFIC

On nearing the beach, where the natives are waiting,
the officer in the landing-boat swings her round with
his steer oar, and the crew back her in, stern first, on to
the beach. The recruiter then steps out, and the crew
carry the trade chests on shore ; tf\en the boat pushes
off a little, just enough to keep afloat, and obtrusive
natives, who may mean treachery, are not allowed to
come too near the oars, or take hold of the gunwale.
Meanwhile the covering boat has drawn in close to the
first boat, and the crew, with their hands on their rifles,
keep a keen watch on the landing boat and the wretched
recruiter.

The recruiter, if he is a wise man, will not display
any arms openly. To do so makes the savage natives
either sulky or afraid, and I never let them see mine,
which I, however, always kept handy in a harmless-look-
ing canvas bag, which also contained some tobacco, cut
up in small pieces, to throw to the women and children
— to put them in a good temper.

The recruiter opens his trade box, and then asks if
there is any man or woman who desires to become rich
in three years by working on a plantation in Fiji, Queens-
land, or Samoa

If he can speak the language, and does not lose his
nerve by being surrounded by hundreds of ferocious and
armed savages, and knowing that at any instant he may
be cut down from behind by a tomahawk, or speared, or
clubbed, he will get along all right, and soon find men
willing to recruit Especially is this so if he is a man
personally known to the natives, and has a good reputa-
tion for treating his "blackbirds" well on board the

ZXZ

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

ship. The ship and her captain, too, enter largely into
the matter of a native making up his mind to " recruit/'
or refuse to do so.

Sometimes there may be among the crowd of natives
several who have already been to Queensland, or else-
where, and desire to return. These may be desirable
recruits, or, on the other hand, may be the reverse, and
have bad redords. I usually tried to shunt these fellows
from again recruiting, as they often made mischief on
board, would plan to capture the ship, and such other
diversions, but I always found them useful as touts in
g^ning me new recruits, by offering these scamps a
suitable present for each man they brought me.

I always made it a practice never to recruit a married
man, unless his wife — or an alleged wife — came with
him, nor would I take them if they had young children
— who would simply be made slaves of in their absence.
It required the utmost tact and discretion to get at
the truth in many cases, and very often on going on
board after a day of toil and danger I would be sound
asleep, when a young couple would swim off — lovers who
had eloped — and beg me to take them away in the
ship. This I would never do until I had seen the local
chief, and was assured that no objection would be made
to their leaving.

(When I was recruiting " black labour " for the French
and German planters in Samoa and Tahiti, I was, of
course, sailing in ships of those nationalities, and had
no wonying Government agent to harass and hinder
me by his interference, for only ships under British
colours were compelled to cany '' Government agents ".)

zza

KANAKA LABOUR TRADE IN THE PACIFIC

But I must return to the recruiter standing on the
beach, surrounded by a crowd of savages, exercising his
patience and brains.

Perhaps at the end of an hour or so%ight or ten men
are recruited, and told to either get into one of the boats
or go off to the ship in canoes. The business on shore
is then finished, the harassed recruiter wipes his perspir-
ing brow, says farewell to the people, closes his trade
chest, and steps into his landing boat. The officer cries
to the crew, " Give way, lads," and off goes the boat.

Then the covering boat comes into position astern of
the landing boat, for one never knew the moment that
some enraged native on shore might, for having been
rejected as '^ undesirable," take a snipe-shot at one of
the boats. Only two men pull in the covering boat —
the rest of the crew sit on the thwarts, with their rifles
ready, facing aft, until the boats are out of range.

That is what is the ordinary day's work among the
Solomon, New Hebrides, and other island groups of the
Western Pacific But very often it was — ^and is now —
very different. The recruiter may be at work, when
he is struck down treacherously from behind, and hun-
dreds of concealed savages rush out, bent on slaughter.
Perhaps the eye of some ever-watchful man in the cover-
ing boat has seen crouching figures in the dense under-
growth of the shores of the bay, and at once fires his
rifle, and the recruiter jumps for his boat, and then
there is a cracking of Winchesters from the covering
boat, and a responsive banging of overloaded muskets
from the shore.

Only once was I badly hurt when ''recruiting". I

113 8

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

had visited a rather big village, but could not secure a
single recruit, and [ had told the officer to put off, as it
was no use our wasting our time. I then got into the
boat and was stooping do\vn to get a drink from the
water-beaker, when a sudden fusillade of muskets and
arrows was opened upon us from three sides, and I was
struck on the right side of the neck by a round iron
bullet, which travelled round just under the skin, and
stopped under my left ear. Some of my crew were badly
hit, one man having his wrist broken by an iron bullet,
and another received a heavy lead bullet in the stomach,
and three bamboo arrows in his chest, thigh and shoulder.
He was more afraid of the arrows than the really danger-
ous wound in his stomach, for he thought they were
poisoned, and that he would die of lockjaw — like the
lamented Commodore Goodenough, who was shot to
death with poisoned arrows at Nukapu in the Santa
Cruz Group.

The skipper nicked out the bullet in my neck with
his pen-knife, and beyond two very unsightly scars on
each side of my neck. I have nothing of which to com-
plain, and much to be thankful for ; for had I been in
ever so little a more erect position, the ball would have
broken my neck — and some compositors in printing
establishments earned a little less money.

114

CHAPTER XII

MY FRIENDS, THE ANTHROPOPHAGI

Mr. Rudyard Kipling has spoken of what he terms
"the Great American Pie Belt," which runs through
certain parts of the United States, the people of which
live largely on pumpkin pie ; in the South Pacific there
is what may be vulgarly termed the Great " Long Pork "
Belt, running through many groups of islands, the savage
inhabitants of which are notorious cannibala This belt
extends from the New Hebrides north-westerly to the
Solomon Archipelago, thence more westerly to New
Ireland and New Britain, the coasts of Dutch, German,
and British New Guinea; and then, turning south, em-
braces a considerable portion of the coast line of North-
ern Australia. Forty years ago Fiji could have been
included, but cannibalism in that group had long since
ceased; as also in New Caledonia and the Loyalty
Islands.

The British, French and German Governments are
doing their best to stamp out the practice. Ships of war
patrol the various groups, and wherever possible, head-
hunting and man-eating excursions are suppressed ; but
some of the islands are of such a vast extent that only

1x5

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

the coastal tribes are aflfected. In the interior — practic-
ally unknown to any white man — ^there is a very numer-
ous population of mountaineer tribes, who are all canni-
bals, and will remain so for perhaps another fifty years,
unless, as was done in Fiji by Sir Arthur Grordon (now
Lord Stanmore), a laiige armed force is sent to subdue
these people, destroy their towns, and bring them to
settle on the coast, where they may be subjected to
missionary (and police) influence.

During my trading and "blackbirding" voyages, I
made the acquaintance, and indeed in some cases the
friendship, of many cannibals, and at one time, when I
was doing shore duty, I lived for six months in a large
cannibal village on the north coast of the great island of
New Britain, or Tombara, as the natives call it I had
not the slightest fear of being converted into '* Long
Pig " {puaka kumi) \ for the chief, a hideous, but yet
not bad-natured savage, named Bobaran, in considera-
tion for certain gifts of muskets, powder, bullets, etc,
and tobacco, became responsible for my safety with his
own people during my stay, but would not, of course,
guarantee to protect me from the people of other dis-
tricts (even though he might not be at enmity with
them) if I ventured into their territory.

This was the usual agreement made by white traders
who established themselves on shore under the csgis of
a native ruler. Very rarely was this confidence abused.
Generally the white men, sailors or traders who have
been (and are even now) killed and eaten, have been
cut off by savages other than those among whom they
lived — ^very often by mountaineers.

1x6

MY FRIENDS, THE ANTHROPOPHAGI

Bobatan and all his people were noted cannibals.
He was continually at war with his neighbours on the
opposite side of the bay, where there were three populous
towns, and there was much fighting, and losses on both
sides. During my stay there were over thirty people
eaten at, or in the immediate vicinity of, my village.
Some of these were taken alive, and then slaughtered
on being brought in ; others had been killed in battle.
But about eighteen months before I came to live at this
place, Bobaran had had a party of twenty of his people
cut off by the enemy — and every one of these were
eaten.

I parted from Bobaran on very friendly terms. I
should have stayed longer, but was suffering from
malarial fever.

After recruiting my health in New Zealand, I joined
a labour vessel, sailing out of Samoa, and during the ten
months I served on her as recruiter I had some ex-
ceedingly exciting adventures with cannibals among the
islands off the coast of German New Guinea, and on the
mainland.

On our way to the " blackbirding grounds " we sighted
the lofty Rossel Island — the scene of one of the most
awful cannibal tragedies ever known. It is one of the
Louisiade Archipelago, and is at the extreme south end
of British New Guinea. It presents a most enchanting
appearance, owing to its verdured mountains (9,000 feet),
countless cataracts, and beautiful bays fringed with coco-
palms and other tropical trees, amidst which stand the
thatched-roofed houses of the natives. I will tell the
story of Rossel Island in as few words as possible : —

X17

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

In 1852 a Peruvian barque, carrying 325 Chinese
coolies for Tahiti, was wrecked on the island ; the captain
and crew took to the four boats, and left the Chinamen to
shift for themselves. Hundreds of savage natives rushed
the vessel, killed a few of the coolies, and drove the rest
on shore, where for some days they were not molested,
the natives being too busy in plundering the ship. But
after this was completed they turned their attention to
their captives, marshalled them together, made them
enter canoes and carried them off to a small, but fertile
island. Here they were told to occupy a deserted vil-
lage, and do as they pleased, but not to attempt to
leave the island. The poor Chinamen were overjoyed,
little dreaming of what was to befal them. The island
abounded with vegetables and fruit, and the shipwrecked
men found no lack of food. But they discovered that
they were prisoners — every canoe had been removed.
This at first caused them no alarm, but when at the end
of a week their jailers appeared and carried oflf ten of
their number, they became restless. And then almost
every day, two, three or more were taken away, and
never returned. Then the poor wretches discovered
that their comrades were being killed and eaten day by
day!

To escape from the island was impossible, for it was
four miles from the mainland, and they had no canoes,
and the water was literally alive with sharks. Some of
them, wild with terror, built a raft out of dead timber,
and tried to put to sea. They were seen by the Rossel
Islanders, pursued and captured, and slaughtered for the
cannibal ovens, which were now never idle. Some poor

1x8

MY FRIENDS, THE ANTHROPOPHAGI

creatures, who could swim, tried to cross to another little
island two miles away, but were devoured by sharks.
Without arms to defend their lives, they saw themselves
decimated week by week, for whenever the natives came
to seize some of their number for their ovens they came
in force.

Six or seven months passed, and then one day the
French corvette Phoque (if I am not mistaken in the
name) appeared off the island. She had been sent by
the Governor of New Caledonia to ascertain if any of
the Chinamen were still on the island, or if all had es-
caped. Two only survived. They were seen running
along the beach to meet the boats from the corvette, and
were taken on board half-demented — all the rest had
gone into the stomach of the cannibals or the sharks.

At the present time the natives of Rossel Island are
subjects of King Edward VII., and are included in the
government of the Possession of British New Guinea ;
have, I believe, a resident missionary, and several traders,
and are well behaved. They would cast up their ^y^
in pious horror if any visitor now suggested that they
had once been addicted to " long pig ".

Ten days after passing Rossel Island, we were among
the islands of Dampier and Vitiaz Straits, which separate
the western end of New Britain from the east coast of
New Guinea. It was an absolutely new ground for
recruiting ** blackbirds " and our voyage was in reality
but an ex|Deriment We (the officers and I) knew that
the natives were a dangerous lot of savage cannibals,
speaking many dialects, and had hitherto only been in

119

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

communication with an occasional whaleship, or a trad-
ing, pearling, or, in the *'old" colonial days, a sandal-
wood-seeking vessel. But we had no fear of being cut
off. We had a fine craft, with a high freeboard, so that
if we were rushed by canoes, the boarders would find
some trouble in clambering on deck ; on the main deck
we carried four six-pounders, which were always kept
in good order and could be loaded with grape in a few
minutes. Then our double crew were all well armed
with Sharp's carbines and the latest pattern of Colt's re-
volvers ; and, above all, the captain had confidence in his
crew and officers, and they in him. I, the recruiter, had
with me as interpreter a very smart native of Ysabel
Island (Solomon Group) who, five years before, had been
wrecked on Rook Island, in Vitiaz Straits, had lived
among the cannibal natives for a year, and then been
rescued by an Austrian man-of-war engaged on an ex-
ploration voyage. He said that he could make himself
well understood by the natives — and this I found to be
correct

We anchored in a charming little bay on Rook
Island (Baga), and at once some hundreds of natives
came oif and boarded us in the most fearless manner.
They at once recognised my interpreter, and danced
about him and yelled their delight at seeing him again.
Every one of these savages was armed with half a
dozen spears, a jade-headed club, or powerful bows and
arrows, and a wooden shield. They were a much finer
type of savage than the natives of New Britain, lighter
in colour, and had not so many repulsive character-
istics. Neither were they absolutely nude — each man

MY FRIENDS, THE ANTHROPOPHAGI

wearing a girdle of dracaena leaves, and although they
were betel-nut chewers, and carried their baskets of
areca nuts and leaves and powdered lime around their
necks, they did not expectorate the disgusting scarlet
juice all over our decks as the New Britain natives
would have done.

We noticed that many of them had recently inflicted
wounds, and learned from them that a few days pre-
viously they had had a great fight with the natives of
Tupinier Island (twenty miles to the east) and had been
badly beaten, losing sixteen men. But, they proudly
added, they had been able to carry off eleven of the
enemy's dead, and had only just finished eating them.
The chiefs brother, they said, had been badly wounded
by a bullet in the thigh (the Tupinier natives had a few
muskets) and was suffering great pain, as the ** doctors"
could not get it out

Now here was a chance for me — something which
would perhaps lead to our getting a number of these
cannibals to recruit for Samoa. I considered myself a
good amateur surgeon (I had had plenty of practice)
and at once volunteered to go on shore, look at the
injured gentleman and see what I could do. My friend
Bobaran in New Britain I had cured of an eczemic dis-
order by a very simple remedy, and he had been a
grateful patient. Here was another chance, and pos-
sibly another grateful patient ; and this being a case
of a gunshot wound, I was rather keen on attending
to it, for the Polynesians and Melanesians will stand
any amount of cutting about and never flinch (and
there are no coroners in the South Seas to ask silly

xaz

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

questions if the patient dies from a mistake of the
operator).

Morel (the captain), the interpreter and myself went
on shore. The beach was crowded with women and
children, as well as men — a sure sign that no treachery
was intended — ^and nearly all of them tried to embrace
my interpreter. The clamour these cannibals made
was terrific, the children being especially vociferous.
Several of them seized my hands, and literally dragged
me along to the house of the wounded man ; others
possessed themselves of Morel and the interpreter, and
in a few minutes the whole lot of us tumbled, or rather
fell, into the house. Then, in an instant, there was
silence — the excited women and children withdrew and
left the captain, the interpreter, some male cannibals
and myself with my patient, who was sitting up,
placidly chewing betel-nut.

In ten minutes Morel and I got out the bullet, then
dressed and bandaged the wound, and gave the man a
powerful opiate. Leaving him with his friends. Morel
and I went for a walk through the village. Every-
where the natives were very civil, offering us coco-nuts
and food, and even the women and children did not
show much fear at our presence.

Returning to the house, we found our wounded friend
was awake, and sitting up on his mat He smiled
affably at us, and rubbed noses with me — a practice I
have never before seen among the Melanesians of this
part of the Pacific. Then he told us that his women-
folk were preparing us a meal which would soon be
ready. I asked him gravely (through the interpreter)

xaa

MY FRIENDS, THE ANTHROPOPHAGI

not to serve us any human flesh. He replied quite
calmly that there was none left — the last had been
eaten five days before.

Presently the meal was carried in — baked pork, an
immense fish of the mullet kind, yams, taro, and an
enormous quantity of sugar-cane and pineapples. The
women did not eat with us, but sat apart Our friend,
whose name was Darro, had six wives, four of whom
were present He had also a number of female slaves,
taken from an island in Vitiaz Straita These were
rather light-skinned, and some quite good-looking, and
all wore girdles of dracaena leaves. Neither Darro nor
his people smoked, though they knew the use of pipe
and tobacco, and at one time had been given both by a
sandal-wooding ship. I promised to give them a present
of a ten pound case of plug tobacco, and a gross of clay
pipes — I was thinking of ** recruits '*. I sent off to the
brig for the present, and when it arrived, and I had
given nearly one hundred and fifty cannibals a pipe
and a pliJg of tobacco each, the interpreter and I got to
work on Darro on the subject of our mission.

Alas ! He would not entertain the idea of any of
his fighting men going to an unknown land for three
years. We could have perhaps a score or so of women
— ^widows or slaves. Would that suit us? No, I said.
We did not want single women or widows. There
must be a man to each woman.

Darro was "very sorry" (so was I). But perhaps I
and the captain would accept two of the youngest of
his female slaves as a token of his regard for us ?

Morel and I consulted, and then we asked Darro if

123

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

he could not give us two slave couples — two men and
two women who would be willing to marry, and also
willing to go to a country and work, a country where
they would be well treated, and paid for their labour.
And at the end of three years they would be brought
back to Darro, if they so desired.

Darro smiled and gave some orders, and two strap-
ping young men and two pleasant-faced young women
were brought for my inspection. All were smiling,
and I felt that a bishop and a brass band or surpliced
choristers ought to have been present

These were the only " blackbirds " we secured on that
voyage from Rook Island ; but three and a half years
later, when these two couples returned to Darro, with
a "vast" wealth of trade goods, estimated at "trade"
prices at seventy-two pounds, Darro never refused to
let some of his young men ** recruit " for Fiji or Samoa.

I never saw him again, but he sent messages to me
by other "blackbirding" vessels, saying that he would
like me to come and stay with him.

And, although he had told me that he had person-
ally partaken of the flesh of over ninety men, I shall
always remember him as a very gentlemanly man,
courteous, hospitable and friendly, and who was horror-
struck when my interpreter told him that in England
cousins intermarried.

" That is a horrid, an unutterable thing. It is incon-
ceivable to us. It is vile, wicked and shameless. How
can you clever white men do such disgusting things ? "

Darro and his savage people knew the terrors of the
abuse of the laws of consanguinity.

124

CHAPTER XIII

ON THE " JOYS " OF RECRUITING " BLACKBIRDS "

A FEW years ago I was written to by an English lady,
living in the Midlands, asking me if I could assist her
nephew — a young man of three and twenty years of
age — ^towards obtaining a berth as Government agent
or as ** recruiter " on a Queensland vessel employed in
the Kanaka labour trade.

'^ I am told that it is a very gentlemanly employ-
ment, that many of those engaged in it are, or have
been, naval officers and have a recc^ised status in
society. Also that the work is really nothing — merely
the supervision of coloured men going to the Queens-
land plantations. The climate is, I am told, delight-
ful, and would suit Walter, whose lungs, as you know,
are weak. Is the salary large ? " etc.

I had to write and disillusionise the lady, and as I
wrote I recalled one of my experiences in the Kanaka
labour trade.

Early in the seventies, I was in Noum6a, New Cale-
donia, looking for a berth as recruiter in the Kanaka
labour trade; but there were many older and much
more experienced men than myself engaged on the
same quest, and my efforts were in vain.

125

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

One morning, however, I met a Captain Poore, who
was the owner and master of a small vessel, just about
to leave Noumea on a trading voyage along the east
coast of New Guinea, and among the islands between
Astrolabe Bay and the West Cape of New Britain.
He did not want a supercai^o ; but said that he would
be very glad if I would join him, and if the voyage was
a success he would pay me for such help as I might
be able to render him. I accepted his offer, and in a
few days we left Noumea.

Poore and I were soon on very friendly terms. He
was a man of vast experience in the South Seas, and,
except that he was subject to occasional violent out-
bursts of temper when anything went wrong, was an
easy man to get on with, and a pleasant comrade.

The mate was the only other European on board,
besides the captain and myself, all the crew, including
the boatswain, being either Polynesians or Melanesians.
The whole ten of them were fairly good seamen and
worked well

A few days after leaving Noumea, Poore took me into
his confidence, and told me that, although he certainly
intended to make a trading and recruiting voyage, he
had another object in view, and that was to satisfy him-
self as to the location of some immense copper deposits
that had been discovered on Rook Island — midway be-
tween New Britain and New Guinea — by some ship-
wrecked seamea

Twenty-two days out from Noumea, the Samana, as
the schooner was named, anchored in a well-sheltered
and densely-wooded little bay on the east side of Rook

Z26

"JOYS" OF RECRUITING "BLACKBIRDS"

Island. The place was uninhabited, though, far back,
from the lofty mountains of the interior, we could see
several columns of smoke arising, showing the position
of mountaineer villages.

It was then ten o'clock in the morning, and Poore,
feeling certain that in this part of the coast there were
no native villages, determined to go ashore, and do a
little prospecting. (I must mention that, owing to Ught
weather and calms, we had been obliged to anchor
where we had to avoid being drifted on shore by the
fierce currents, which everywhere sweep and eddy
around Rook Island, and that we were quite twenty
miles from the place where the copper lode had been
discovered.)

Taking with us two of the native seamen, Poore and
I set off on shore shortly after ten o clock, and landed
on a rough, shingly beach. The extent of littoral on
this part of the island was very small, a bold lofty chain
of mountains coming down to within a mile of the sea,
and running parallel with the coast as far as we could see.
The vegetation was dense, and in some places came
down to the water's edge, and although the country
showed a tropical luxuriance of beauty about the sea-
shore, the dark, gloomy, and silent mountain valleys
which everywhere opened up from the coast, gave it a
repellent appearance in general.

Leaving the natives (who were armed with rifles and
tomahawks) in chaise of the boat, and telling them to
pull along the shore and stop when we stopped, Poore
and I set out to walk.

My companion was armed with a Henry- Winchester

Z27

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

carbine, and I with a sixteen-bore breech-loading shot-
gun and a tomahawk. I had brought the gun instead
of a rifle, feeling sure that I could get some cockatoos or
pigeons on our way back, for we had heard and seen
many flying about as soon as we had anchored. At the
last moment I put into my canvas game bag four round
bullet cartridges, as Poore said there were many wild
pigs on the island.

On rounding the eastern point of the bay we were
delighted to come across a beautiful beach of hard white
sand, fringed with coco-nut palms, and beyond was a
considerable stretch of open park-like country. Just as
Poore and I were setting off inland to examine the base
of a spur about a mile distant, one of the men said he
could see the mouth of a river fiuther on along the
beach.

This changed our plans, and sending the boat on
ahead, we kept to the beach, and soon reached the river
— or rather creek. It was narrow but deep, the boat
entered it easily and went up it for a mile, we walking
along the bank, which was free of undergrowth, but
covered with high, coarse, reed-like grass. Then the
boat's progress was barred by a huge fallen tree, which
spanned the stream. Here we spelled for half an hour,
and had something to eat, and then again Poore and I
set out, following the upward course of the creek.
Finding it was leading us away from the spur we wished
to examine, we stopped to decide what to do, and then
heard the sound of two gun-shots in quick succession,
coming from the direction of the place in which the
boat was lying. We were at once filled with alarm,

xa8

"JOYS" OF RECRUITING "BLACKBIRDS"

knowing that the men must be in danger of some sort,
and that neither of them could have fired at a wild pig,
no matter how tempting a shot it offered, for we had
told them not to do so.

" Perhaps they have fallen foul of an alligator," said
Poore, " all the creeks on Rook Island are full of them.
Come along, and let us see what is wrong.'*

Running through the open, timber country, and then
through the long grass on the banks of the stream, we
had reached about half-way to the boat when we heard
a savage yell — or rather yells — for it seemed to come
from a hundred throats, and in an instant we both felt
sure that the boat had been attacked.

Madly forcing our way through the infernal reed-like
grass, which every now and then caused us to trip and
fall, we had just reached a bend of the creek, which
gave us a clear sight of its course for about three
hundred yards, when Poore tripped over a fallen tree
branch ; I fell on the top of him, and my face struck
his upturned right foot with such violence that the
blood poured from my nose in a torrent, and for half a
minute I was stunned.

" Good God, look at that ! ** cr ed Poore, pointing
down stream.

Crossing a shallow part of the creek were a party of
sixty or seventy savages, all armed with spears and
clubs. Four of them who were leading were carrying
on poles from their shoulders the naked and headless
bodies of our two unfortunate sailors, and the decapi-
tated heads were in either hand of an enormously fat
man, who from his many shell armlets and other adorn-

129 9

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

ments was evidently the leader. So close were they —
less than fifty yards — that we easily recognised one of
the bodies by its light yellow skin as that of Anteru
(Andrew), a native of Rotumah, and one of the best
men we had on the Samana,

Before I could stay his hand and point out the folly
of it, Poore stood up and shot the fat savage through
the stomach, and I saw the blood spurt from his side,
as the heavy, flat-nosed bullet ploughed its way clean
through the man, who, still clutching the two heads in
his ensanguined hands, stood upright for a few seconds,
and then fell with a splash into the stream.

Yells of rage and astonishment came from the
savages, as Poore, now wild with fury, b^an to fire at
them indiscriminately, until the magazine of his rifle
was emptied ; but he was so excited that only two or
three of them were hit. Then his senses came back to
him.

" Quick, into the creek, and over to the other side, or
they'll cut us off."

We clambered down the bank into the water, and
then, by some mischance, Poore, who was a bad
swimmer, dropped his rifle, and began uttering the
most fearful oaths, when I told him that it was no use
my trying to dive for it, unless he could hold my shot
gun, which I was carrying in my left hand. We had
scarcely reached the opposite bank, when thin, slender
spears began to whizz about us, and one, no thicker
than a lead pencil, caught Poore in the cheek, obliquely,
and its point came out quite a 3^ard from where it
had entered, and literally pinned him to the ground.

130

"JOYS" OF RECRUITING "BLACKBIRDS"

I have heard some very strong language in the
South Seas, but I have never heard anything so awful
as that of Poore when I drew out the spear, and we
started to run for our lives down the opposite bank of
the creek.

For some minutes we panted along through the long
grass, hearing nothing; and then, as we came to an
open spot and stopped to gain breath, we were assailed
by a shower of spears from the other side of the creek,
and Poore was again hit — a spear ripping open the flesh
between the forefinger and thumb of his left hand. He
seized my gun, and fired both barrels into the long
grass on the other side, and wild yells showed that
some of our pursuers were at least damaged by the
heavy No. i shot intended for cockatoos.

Then all became silent, and we again started, taking
all available cover, and hoping we were not pursued.

We were mistaken, for presently we cayght sight of
a score of our enemies a hundred yards ahead, running
at top speed, evidently intending to cross lower down
and cut us off, or else secure the boat Poore took
two quick shots at them, but they were too far off, and
gave us a yell of derision. Putting my hand into the
game bag to get out two cartridges, I was horrified to
find it empty, every one had feillen out ; my companion
used more lurid language, and we pressed on. At last
we reached the boat, and found her floating bottom up
— the natives had been too quick for us.

To have attempted to right her would have meant
our being speared by the savages, who, of course, were
watching our every movement. There was nothing

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

else to do but to keep on, cross the mouth of the creek,
and make for the ship.

Scarcely had we run fifty yards when we saw the
grass on the other side move — the natives were keeping
up the chase. Another ten minutes brought us to the
mouth of the stream, and then to our great joy we saw
that the tide had ebbed, and that right before us was a
stretch of bare sand, extending out half a mile. As
we emerged into the open we saw our pursuers stand-
ing on the opposite bank. Poore pointed his empty
gun at them, and they at once vanished.

We stopped five minutes to gain breath, and then
kept straight on across the sand, till we sighted the
schooner. We were seen almost at once, and a boat
was quickly manned and sent to us, and in a quarter
of an hour we were on board again.

That was one of the joys of the ** gentlemanly" em-
ployment of ** recruiting " in the South Seas.

133

CHAPTER XIV

MAKING A FORTUNE IN THE SOUTH SEAS

A SHORT time ago I came across in a daily newspaper
the narrative of a traveller in the South Seas full of
illuminating remarks on the ease with which any one
can now acquire a fortune in the Pacific Islands ; it af-
forded me considerable reflection, mixed with a keen
regret that I had squandered over a quarter of a century
of my life in the most stupid manner, by ignoring the
golden opportunities that must have been jostling me
wherever I went. The articles were very cleverly
penned, and really made very pretty reading — so pretty,
in fact, that I was moved to briefly narrate my ex-
perience of the subject in the columns of the IVes^-
ftiinster Gazettey with the result tiiat many a weary,
struggling trader in the Solomon Islands, the New
Hebrides and other groups of islands in the South
Pacific rose up and called me blessed when they read
my article, for I sent five and twenty copies of the
paper to as many traders. Others doubtless obtained
the journal from the haughty brass-bound pursers
(there are no "supercargoes" now) of the Sydney and
Auckland steamers. For the steamers, with their

133

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

high-collared, clerkly pursers, have supplanted for good
the trim schooners, with their brown-faced, pyjama-clad
supercargoes, and the romance of the South Seas has
gone. But it has not gone in the imagination of some
people.

I must mention that my copies of the Westminster
Gazette crossed no less than nine letters written to me
by old friends and comrades from various islands in
the Pacific, asking me to do what I had done — put the
true condition of affairs in Polynesia before the public,
and help to keep unsuitable and moneyless men from
going out to the South Sea Islands to starve. For
they had read the illuminating series of articles to
which I refer, and felt very savage.

In a cabin-trunk of mine I have some hundreds of
letters, written to me during the past ten years by
people from all parts of the world, who wanted to go
to the South Seas and lead an idyllic life and make
fortunes, and wished me to show them how to go about
it. Many of these letters are amusing, some are pa-
thetic ; some, which were so obviously insane, I did not
answer. The rest I did. I cannot reproduce them in
print. I am keeping them to read to my friends in
heaven. Even an old ex-South Sea trader may get
there — if he can dodge the other place. Quien sabe ?

Twenty-one of these letters reached me in France
during February, March and April of last year. They
were written by men and women who had been reading
the above-mentioned series of brilliant articles. (I re-

134

MAKING A FORTUNE IN THE SOUTH SEAS

gret to state that fourteen only had a penny stamp
thereon, and I had to pay four francs postal dues.)
The articles were, as I have said, very charmingly
written, especially the descriptive passages. But nearly
every person that the " Special Commissioner " met in
the South Seas seems to have been very energetically
and wickedly employed in "pulling the * Special Com-
missioner's' leg".

The late Lord Pembroke described two classes of
people — *' those who know and don't write, and those
who write and don't know ".

Let me cull a few only of the statements in one of
the articles entitled "The Trader's Prospects". It is
an article so nicely written that it is hard to shake off
the glamour of it and get to facts. It says : —
,"The salaries paid by a big Australian firm to its
rtraders may run from ;^5o to ;^200 a year, with board
(that is, the run of the store) and a house."
i There are possibly fifty men in the Pacific Islands
who are receiving ;6^200 a year from trading firms.
Five pounds per month, with a specified ration list, and
5 per cent, commission on his sales is the usual thing
— ^and has been so for the past fifteen years. As for
taking ** the run of the store," he would be quickly asked
to take another run. The trader who works for a firm
has a struggle to exist

** In the Solomons and New Hebrides you can start
trading on a capital of ;f lOO or so^ and make cent, per
cent, on island produce."

A man would want at least ;£^S00 to ;f 600 to start

135

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

even in the smallest way. Here are some of his require-
ments, which he must buy before leaving Sydney or
Auckland to start as an independent trader in Melanesia
or Polynesia: Trade goods, ;£^400 ; provisions for twelve
months, ;^ioo; boat with all gear, from £2$ to ;f6o;
tools, firearms, etc, ;f 15 to £30, Then there is passage
money, <;^IS to j£"2o; freight on his goods, say ;f40.
If he lands anywhere in Polynesia — Samoa, Tonga,
Cook's Islands, or elsewhere — he will have Customs
duties to pay, house rent, and a trading licence. And
everywhere he will find keen competition and measly
profits, unless he lives like a Chinaman on rice and fish.

** In British New Guinea you can dig gold in hand-
fuls out of the mangrove swamps " (O ye gods !) ** and
prospect for any other mineral you may choose."

Gold-mining in British New Guinea is carried out
under the most trying conditions of toil and hardships.
The fitting out of a prospecting-party of four costs quite
£SOO to ;^i,ooo. And only very experienced diggers
tackle mining in the Possession. And his Honour the
Administrator will not let improperly equipped parties
into the Possession. ^

" It is the simplest thing in the world " to become a
pearl sheller. "You charter a schooner — or even a
cutter — if you are a smart seaman and know the Pacific,
use her for general trading . . . and every now and
then go and look up some one of the innumerable reefs
and low atolla . . . Some are beds of treasure, full of
pearl-shell, that sells at ;f 100 to ;£'200 the ton," etc.

All very pretty! Here is the "simplicity" of it —

136

MAKING A FORTUNE IN THE SOUTH SEAS

taking it at so much per month : Charter of small
schooner of one hundred tonsj £200 to £}po \ ws^es
of captain and crew, £aP\ cost of provisions and wear
and tear of canvas, running gear, etc., £(30 (diving suits
and gear for two divers, and boat would have to be
bought at a cost of some hundreds of pounds) ; wages
per month of each diver from ;f 50 to ;^75, with often
a commission on the shell they raise. Then you can
go a-sailing, and cherchez around for your treasure
beds. If you dive in Dutch waters, the gunboats collar
you and your ship ; if you go into British waters you
will find that the business is under strict inspection by
Commonwealth officials who keep a properly sharp
eye on your doings. If you wish to go into the French
Paumotus you have first to visit Tahiti, and apply for
and pay 2,500 francs for a half-yearly licence to dive.
(Most likely you won't get it) If you try without this
licence to buy even a single pearl from the natives, you
will get into trouble — as my ship did in the " seventies,"
when the gunboat Vaudreuil swooped down on us, sent
a prize crew aboard, put some of us in irons, and towed
us to Tahiti, where we lay in Papeite harbour for three
months, until legal proceedings were finished and the
ship was liberated.

" About £\ 50 would be the lowest sum with which
such a work" (scooping up the treasure) "could be
carried out. This would provide a small schooner or
a cutter from Auckland for a few months with all
necessary stores. She would require two men, com-
petent to navigate, two A.B.'s, and a diver, in order

137

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

to be run safely and comfortably; and the wages of
these would be an extra cost A couple of experienced
yachtsmen could, of course, manage the affair more
cheaply."

Some of these recent nine letters which I received
contained some very interesting facts. One man, an
old trader in Polynesia, wrote me as follows : " Some
of these poor beggars actually land in Polynesian ports
with a trunk or two of ^lass beads, penny looking-
glasses, twopenny knives and other weird rubbish,
and are aghast to see laige stores stocked with thou-
sands of pounds' worth of goods of all kinds, goods
which are sold to the natives at a very low margin of
profit, for competition is very keen. In the Society
Islands the Chinese storekeepers undersell us whites —
they live cheaper." And "in Levuka and Suva, in
Fiji, in Rarotonga and other islands there are scores of
broken-down white men. They cannot be called * beach-
combers,' for there is nothing on the beach for them to
comb. They live on the charity of the traders and
natives. If they were sailor-men they could perhaps
get fifteen dollars a month on the schooners. Why
they come here is a mystery. . . . Most of them
seem to be clerks or school-teachers. One is a violin
teacher. Another young fellow brought out a type-
writing machine ; he is now yardman at a Suva hotel.
A third is a married man with two young children.
He is a French polisher, wife a milliner. They came
from Belfast, and landed with eleven pounds I Hotel
expenses swallowed all that in three weeks. Money is

138

MAKING A FORTUNE IN THE SOUTH SEAS

being collected to send them to Auckland," and so on.
There is always so much mischief being done by
globe-trotting tourists and ill-informed and irrespon-
sible novelists who scurry through the Southern Seas
on a liner, and then publish their hasty impressions.
According to them, any one with a modicum of common
sense can shake the South Sea Pagoda Tree and be-
come bloatedly wealthy in a year or so.

Did the "Special Commissioner" know that these
articles would lead to much misery and suffering?
No, of course not They were written in good faith,
but without knowledge. For instance, the wild state-
ment about looking up ** some one of the innumerable
reefs and low atolls . . . beds of treasure, full of pearl-
shell that sells at ;f lOO to ;£'200 the ton," etc. — there is
not one single reef or atoll either in the North or South
Pacific that has not been carefully prospected for pearl-
shell during the past thirty-five years.

Then as to gold-mining in British New Guinea,
** where you can dig gold in handfuls out of the man-
grove swamps ".

Diggers who go to New Guinea have to go through
the formality of first paying their passages to that
country from Australia. The^i, on arrival, they have
to arrange the important matter of engaging native
carriers to take their outfit to the Mambar^ River gold-
fields — a tedious and expensive item. And only ex-
perienced men of sterling physique can stand the awful
labour and hardships of gold-mining in the Possession.
Deadly malarial fever adds to the diggers' hard lot in
New Guinea, and the natives, when not savage and

Z39

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

treacherous, are as unreliable and as lazy as a Spanish
priest

In conclusion, I can assure my readers that there is
no prospect for any man of limited means to make
money in the South Seas as a trader. Any assertions
to the contrary have no basis of fact in them. In
cotton and coco-nut planting there are good openings
for men of the right stamp; in the second industry,
however, one has to wait six years before his trees are
in full bearing.

140

CHAPTER XV

THE STORY OF TOKOLM^

Early one morning some native hunters came on
board our vessel and asked me to come with them to
the mountain forest of the island of Ponap6 in quest of
wild boar. Glad to escape from the ship, which lay in
a small land-locked harbour on the south-eastern side of
the island, I quickly put together my gear, stepped into
one of the long red-painted canoes alongside, and pushed
off with my companions — men whom I had known for
some years and who always looked to me to join them
in at least one of their hunting trips whenever our brig
visited their district on a trading cruise. Half an hour's
paddling across the still waters of the harbour brought
us to a narrow creek, lined on each side with dense man-
groves. Following its upward course for the third of k
mile, we came to and landed at a point of high land,
where the^dull and monotonous mangroves gave place
to giant cedar trees and lofty palms. Here were two or
three small native huts, used by the hunters as a rendez-
vous. Early as it was, some of their women-folk had ar-
rived from the village, and cooked and made ready a
meal of baked fish and chickens. Then after the in-

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

evitable smoke and discussion as to the route to be taken,
and telling the women to expect us back at nightfall,
we shouldered our rifles and hunting spears, and started
off in single file along a winding track that followed the
turnings of the now clear and brawling little stream. At
first we experienced considerable trouble in ridding our-
selves of over a dozen mongrel curs ; they had followed
the men from the village (two miles distant) and the
women had fastened all of them in, in one of the huts, but
the brutes had torn a hole through the cane-work side
of the hut and came after us in full cry. Kicking and
pelting them with sticks had no effect — they merely
yelped and snarled and darted off into the undergrowth,
only to reappear somewhere ahead of us. Finally my
companions became so exasperated that, forgetting they
were newly- made converts to Christianity, they burst
out into torrents of abuse, invoking all the old heathen
gods to smite the dogs individually and collectively, and
not let them spoil our sport This proving of no effect,
an exasperated and stalwart young native named Na,
who was the owner of one of the most ugly and persist-
ent of the animals, asked me to lend him my Winchester,
and, waiting for a favourable chance, shot the brute dead.
In an instant the rest of the pack vanished without a
sound, and we saw no more of them till we returned to
the huts in the evening.

These natives (seven in all) were, with the exception
of a man of fifty years of age, all young men, and fine
types of the Micronesian. Although much slighter in
build than the average Polynedan of the south-eastern
islands of the Pacific, they were extremely muscular

143

THE STORY OF TOKOLME

and sinewy, and as active and fleet of foot as wild goats.
Their skins, where not tanned a darker hue by the sun,
were of a light reddish-brown, and the blue tatooing on
their bodies showed out very clearly; most of them had
a very Semitic and regular cast of features, and their
straight black hair and fine white teeth imparted a very
pleasing appearance. Unlike some of the natives of
the Micronesian Archipelago on the islands farther to
the westward they dislike the disgusting practice of
chewing the betel-nut, and in general may be regarded
as a very cleanly and highly intelligent race of people.
Somewhat suspicious, if not sullen, with the European
stranger on first acquaintance, they do not display that
spirit of hospitality and courtesy that seems to be inher-
ent with the Samoans, Tahitians and the Marquesans.
From the time when their existence was first made
known to the world by the discoveries of the early Span-
ish voyagers to the South Seas they have been addicted
to warfare, and the inhabitants of Ponap^ in particular
had an evil reputation for the horrible cruelties the
victors inflicted upon the vanquished in battle, even
though the victims were frequently their own kith
and kin. When, less than twenty years ago, Spain re-
asserted her claims to the Caroline Islands (of which
Ponap^ is the largest and most fertile) and placed gar-
risons on several of the islands, the natives of Ponap^
made a savage and determined resistance, and in one
instance wiped out two companies of troops and their
officers. A few years ago, however, the entire archi-
pelago passed into the hands of Germany — Spain accept-
ing a monetary compensation for parting with territory

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

that never belonged to her — and at the present time
these once valorous and warlike savages are learning
the ways of civilisation and — as might be expected —
rapidly diminishing in numbers.

After ridding ourselves of the dc^s we pressed steadily
onward and upward, till we no longer heard the hum of
the surf beating upon the barrier reef, and then when
the sun was almost overhead we emerged from the
deep, darkened aisles of the silent forest into a small
cleared space on the summit of a spur and saw dis-
played before us one of the loveliest panoramas in the
universe. For of all the many beautiful island gems
which lie upon the blue bosom of the North Pacific,
there is none that exceeds in beauty and fertility the
Isle of Ascension, as Ponap6 is sometimes called —
that being the name used by the Spaniards.

Three thousand feet below we could see for many
miles the trend of the coast north and sOuth. Within
the wavering line of roaring white surf, which marked
the barrier reef, lay the quiet green waters of the
narrow lagoon encompassing the whole of this part of
Ponap^, studded with many small islands — ^some rocky
and precipitous, some so low-lying and so thickly palm-
clad that they, seemed, with their girdles of shining
beach, to be but floating g^ardens of verdure, so soft
and ephemeral that even the gentle breath of the rising
trade wind at early mom would cause them to vanish
like some desert mirage.

To the southward was the small, land-locked harbour
of RoSn Kiti, whose gleaming waters were as yet un-

144

THE STORY OF TOKOLME

disturbed by the faintest ripple, and the two American
whaleships and my own vessel which floated on its
placid bosom, lay so still and quiet, that one could have
thought them to be abandoned by their crews were it
not that one of the whalers began to loose and dry
sails, for it had raiined heavily during the night. These
two ships were from New Bedford, and they had put
into the little harbour to wood and water, and give
their sea-worn crews a fortnight's rest ere they sailed
northward away from the bright isles of the Pacific to
the cold, wintry seas of the Siberian coast and the
Kurile Islands, where they would cruise for " bowhead "
whales, before returning home to America.

Here, because the White Man both felt and looked
tired after the long climb, and because the Brown Men
wanted to make a drink of green kava, we decided to
rest for an hour or two — some of the men suggesting
that we should not return till the following day. Food
we had brought with us, and everywhere on the tops
of the mountains water was to be found in small rocky
pools. So whilst one of the men cut up a rugged root
of green kava and began to pound it with a smooth
stone, the White Man, well content, laid down his gun,
sat upon a boulder of stone and looked around him.
I was pleased at the view of sea and verdant shore far
below, and pleased too at the prospect of some good
sport ; for everywhere, on our way up to the mountains,
we had seen the tracks of many a wild pig, and here,
on the summit of this spur, could rest awhile, before
descending into a deep valley on the eastern side of
the island, where we knew we would find the wild

145 10

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

pigs feeding along the banks of a mountain stream
which detx)uched into Roan Kiti harbour, four miles
away.

" How is this place named, and how came it to be
clear of the forest trees ? " I asked one of my native
friends, a handsome young man, about thirty years of
age, whose naked, smooth, and red-brown skin, from
neck to waist, showed by its tatooing that he was of
chiefly lineage.

" Tokolm6 it is called," he replied. " It was once a
place of great strength ; a fortress was made here in the
mountains, in the olden time — in the old days, long
before white men came to Ponap^. See, all around us,
half-buried in the ground, are some of the blocks of
stone which were carried up from the face of the moun-
tain which overlooks Metalanien " — he pointed to sev-
eral huge basaltic prisms lying near — "these stones
were the lower course of the fort ; the upper part was
of wood* gfreat forest trees, cut down and squared into
lengths of two fathoms. And it is because of the cut-
ting down of these trees, which were very old and took
many hundred years to grow, that the place where we
now sit, and all around us, is so clear. For the blood
of many hundreds of men have sunk into it, and be-
cause it was the blood of innocent people, there be now
nothing that will grow upon it."

The place was certainly quite bare of trees, though
encompassed by the forest on all sides lower dowa
One reason for this may have been that in addition
to the large basaltic prisms, the ground was thickly
covered with a layer of smaller and broken stones to

146

THE STORY OF TOKOLME

which time and the action of the weather had given a
comparatively smooth surface.

*' Tell me of it, Rai," I said.

" Presently, friend, after we have had the drink of
kava and eaten some food Ah, this green kava of
ours is good to drink, not like the weak, dried root that
the women of Samoa chew and mix with much water
in a wooden bowl. What goodness can there be in
that ? Here, we take the root fresh from the soil when
it is full of juice, beat it to a pulp and add but little
water."

** It is good, Rai," I admitted, ** but give me only a
little. It is too strong for me and a full bowl would
cause me to stagger and fall.''

He laughed good-naturedly as he handed me a half
coco-nut shell containing a little of the thick greenish-
yellow liquid. And then, after all had drunk in turn,
the baskets of cold baked food were opened and we
ate ; and then as we lit our pipes and smoked Rai told
us the story of Tokolmd

** In those days, before the white men came here to
this country, though they had been to islands not
many days* sail from here by canoe, there were but
two great chiefs of Ponap^ — now there are seven — one
was Lirou, who ruled all this part of the land, and who
dwelt at Roan Kiti with two thousand people, and the
other was Roka, king of all the northern coast and
ruler of many villages. Roka was a great voy^er and
had sailed as far to the east as Kusaie, which is two
hundred leagues from here, and his people were proud

147

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

of him and his great daring and of the slaves that he
brought back with him from Kusaie.^

" Here in Tokolm^ lived three hundred and two-
score people, who owed allegiance neither to Lirou nor
Roka, for their ancestors had come to Ponap^ from
Yap, an island far to the westward. After many years
of fighting on the coast they made peace with Lirou's
father, who gave them all this piece of country as a
free gift, and without tribute, and many of their young
men and women intermarried with ours, for the lan-
guage and customs of Yap are akin to those of
Ponap^.

** Soon after peace was made and Tolan, chief of the
strangers, had built the village and made plantations,
he died, and as he left no son, his daughter Lea be-
came chieftainess, although she was but fourteen years
of age.

"Lirou, who was a haughty, overbearing young
man, sent presents, and asked her in marriage, and
great was his anger when she refused, saying that she
had no desire to leave her people now that her father
was dead.

" * See,' he said to his father, * see the insult put upon
thee by these proud ones of Yap — these dog-eating
strangers who drifted to our land as a log drifts upon
the ocean. Thou hast given them fair lands with run-
ning water, and great forest trees, and this girl refuses
to marry me. Am I as nothing that I should be so
treated ? Shall I, Lirou, be laughed at ? Am I a boy
or a grown man ? '

^ Strongs Island.
148

THE STORY OF TOKOLME

** The old chief, who desired peace, sought in vain to
soothe him. * Wait for another year,* he said, ' and it
may be that she will be of a different mind. And
already thou hast two wives — ^why seek another?'

" * Because it is my will/ replied Lirou fiercely, and
he went away, nursing his wrath.

** One day a party of Roka's young men and women
went in several canoes to the group of small islands near
the mainland called Pakin to catch turtle ; whilst the
men were away out on the reef at night with their turtle
nets a number of Lirou's men came to the huts where
the women were and watched them cooking food to
give to their husbands on their return. Rain was falling
heavily, and Lirou's men came into the houses, unasked,
and sat down and then began to jest with the women
somewhat rudely. This made them somewhat afraid,
for they were all married, and to jest with the wife of
another man is looked upon as an evil thing. But their
husbands being a league away the women could do no-
thing and went on with their cooking in silence. Pres-
ently, Lirou's men who had brought with them some
gourds of the grog called raraity which is made from
sugar-cane, began to drink it and pressed the women to
do so also. When they refused to do so, the men be-
came still more rude and bade the women serve them
with some of the food they had prepared. This was a
great insult, but being in fear, they obeyed. Then, as
the grog made them bolder, some of the men laid hands
on the women and there was a great outcry and struggle,
and a young woman named Sipi-nah fell or was thrown
against a great burning log, and her face so badly burned

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

that she cried out in agony and ran outside, followed by
all the other women. They ran along the beach in the
pouring rain till they were abreast of the place where
their husbands were fishing and called to them to return.
When the fishermen saw what had befallen Sipi-nah
they were filled with rage, for she was a blood-relation
of Roka's, and hastening back to the houses they rushed
in upon Lirou's people, slew three of them, put their
heads in baskets and brought them to Roka.

" From this thing came a long war which was called
' the war of the face of Sipi-nah,' and a great battle was
fought in canoes on the lagoon. Lirou's father with
many hundreds of his people were slain, and the rest
fled to Roan Kiti pursued by King Roka, who burnt
the town. Then Lirou (who, now that his father was
killed, was chief) sued for peace, and promised Roka a
yearly tribute of three thousand plates of turtle shell,
and five new canoes. So Roka, being satisfied, sailed
away, and there was peace. Had he so desired it he
could have utterly swept away all Lirou's people and
burned their villages and destroyed every one of their
plantations, but although he was a great fighting man
he was not cruel. Yet he said to Sipi-nah, after peace
was made : * I pray thee, come near me no more ; for
although I have revenged myself upon those who have
ill-used and insulted thee and me, my hand will again
incline to the spear if I look upon thy scarred face again.
And I want no more wars.'

" The son of Lirou (who now took his father's name)
and his people began, with heavy hearts, to rebuild the
town. After the council house was finished, Lirou told

150

THE STORY OF TOKOLME

them to cease work and called together his head men
and spoke.

" * Why should we labour to build more houses here ? *
he said. * See, this is my mind. Only for one year shall
I pay this heavy tribute to Roka Then shall I defy
him.'

" The head men were silent

" Lirou laughed. * Have no fear. I am no boaster.
But we cannot fight him here in Roan Kiti, which is open
to the sea, and never can we make it a strong fort, for
here we have nofalat} nor yet any great forest trees.
But at Tokolm^ are many thousands of the great stones
and mighty trees in plenty. Ah, my father was a fool-
ish man to give such a place to people who fought against
us. Are we fools, to build here another weak town, and
let Roka bear the more heavily upon us? Answer
me!'

" * What wouldst thou have, O chief,' asked one of the
head men.

" * I would have Tokolme. It is mine inheritance.
There can we make a strong fort, and from there shall
we have entrance to the sea by the river. Are we to
let these dogs from Yap deny us ? '

" * Let us ask them to give us, as an act of friendship,
all the trees, and all th^falat we desire,' said one of the
head men.

" Lirou laughed scornfully. * And we to toil for years
in carrying the trees and stones from Tokolm6, a league

^ ** Falat '* is the natives* name for the huge prisms of basalt with
which the mysterious and Cyclopean walls, canals, vaults, and forts
are constructed on the island of Ponap6.

15X

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

away. Bah ! Let us fall upon them as they sleep— and
spare no one.'

" * Nay, nay,' said a sub-chief, named Kol, who had
taken one of the Yap girls to wife, * that is an evil
thought, and foul treachery. We be at peace with
thenL I, for one, will have no part in such wickedness.'
And others said the same, but some were with
Lirou.

" Then, after many angry words had been spoken —
some for fair dealing, and some for murder — Lirou said
to the chief Kol and two others : * Go to the girl Lea
and her head men with presents, and say this : We of
Roan Kiti are like to be hard pressed by Roka when
the time comes for the payment of our tribute If we
yield it not, then are we all dead men. So give back
to us Tokolm^, and take from us Roan Kiti, where ye
may for ever dwell in peace, for Roka hath no ill-will
against ye.'

"So Kol and two other chiefs, with many slaves
bearing presents, went to Tokolmd But before they
set out, Kol sent secretly a messenger to Lea, with
these words : * Though I shall presently come to thee
with fair words from Lirou, I bid thee and all thy
people take heed, and beware of what thou doest ; and
keep good watch by night, for Lirou hath an evil
mind.'

" This message was given to Lea, and her head men
rewarded the messenger, and then held council together,
and told Lea what answer she should give.

" This was the answer that she gave to Kol, speaking
smilingly, and yet with dignity : —

15a

THE STORY OF TOKOLME

" * Say to the chief Lirou that I thank him for the
rich presents he hath sent me, and that I would that I
could yield to his wish, and give unto him this tract of
country that his father gave to mine — so that he might
build a strong place of refuge against the King Roka
But it cannot be, for we, too, fear Roka. And we are but
a few, and some day it might happen that he would fall
upon us, and sweep us away as a dead leaf is swept from
the branch of a young tree by the strong breath of the
storm.'

''So Kol returned to Lirou, and gave him the
answer of Lea, and then Lirou and those of his head
men who meant ill to Lea and her people, met together
in secret, and plotted their destructioa

" And again Kol, who loved the Yap girl he had mar-
ried, sent a message to Lea, warning her to beware of
treachery. And then it was that the Yap people began
to build a strong fort, and at night kept a good watch.

** Then Lirou again sent messengers asking that Lea
would let him cut down a score of great trees, and Lea
sent answer to him : * Thou art welcome. Cut down
one score — or ten score. I give them freely/ This did
she for the sake of peace and good-will, though she and
her people knew that Lirou meant harm. But whilst a
hundred of Lirou's men were cutting the trees the Yap
people worked at their fort from dawn till dark, and
Lirou's heart was black with rage, for these men of Yap
were cunning fort builders, and he saw that, when it
was finished, it could never be taken by assault But
he and his chiefs continued to speak fair words, and
send presents to Lea and her people, and she sent back

153

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

presents in return. Then s^ain Lirou besought her to
become his wife, saying that such an alliance would
strengthen the friendship between his people and hers ;
but Lea again refused him, though with pleasant words,
and Lirou said with a smooth face : * Forgive me. I
shall pester thee no more, for I see that thou dost not
care for me.'

" When two months had passed two score of great trees
had been felled and cut into lengths of five fathoms each,
and then squared These were to be the main timbers
of the outer wall of Lirou's fort — so he said. But he
did not mean to have them carried away, for now he
and his chiefs had completed their plans to destroy the
people of Yap, and this cutting of the trees was but a
subterfuge, designed to throw Lea and her advisers off
their guard.

** One day Lirou and his chiefs, dressed in very gay
attire, came into Tokolm^, each carrying in his hand a
tame ring-dove which is a token of peace and amity,
and desired speech of Lea. She came forth, and ordered
fine mats, trimmed with scarlet parrots' feathers, to be
spread for them upon the ground and received them as
honoured guests.

" * We come,' said Lirou, lifting her hand to his fore-
head, * to beg thee and all thy people to come to a great
feast that will be ready to-morrow, to celebrate ithe
carrying away of the wood thou hast so generously given
unto me'

'* * It is well,' said Lea ; * I thank thee. We shall
come.'

" Little did Lea and her people know that during the

154

THE STORY OF TOKOLME

night, as It rained heavily, some of Lirou's warriors had
hidden clubs and spears and axes of stone near where
the logs lay and where the feast was to be given. They
were hidden under a great heap of chips and shavings
that came from the fallen trees.

** At dawn on the day of the feast, three hundred of
Lirou's men, all dressed very gaily, marched past
Tokolm^, carrying no arms, but bearing baskets of food.
They were going, they said, with presents to King Roka
to tell him that Lirou would hold faithfully to his
promise of tribute.

" * But why,' asked the men of Yap, * do ye go to-day
— ^which is the day of the feast ? '

" * Because the heart of Lirou is glad, and he desires
peace with all men— even Roka. And whilst he and
those of our people who remain feast with ye men of
Yap, and make merriment, we, the tribute messengers,
go unto Roka with words of goodwill'

" Now these words were lies, for when the three
hundred men had marched a quarter of a league past
Tokolm^, they halted at a place in the forest where they
had arms concealed. Then they waited for a certain
signal from Lirou, who had said : —

" * When thou hearest the sound of a conch shell at the
b^inning of the feast, march quickly back and form a
circle around us and the people of Yap, but let not one
of ye be seen. Then when there comes a second blast
rush in, and see that no one escapes. Spare no one but
the girl Lea.'

" When the sun was a little high Lirou and all his people
— men, women and children — came and made ready the

155

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

feast On each of the squared logs was spread out baked
hogs, fowls, pigeons, turtle and fish, and all manner of
fruits in abundance, and then also there were placed in
the centre of the clearing twenty stone mortars for
making kava.

" When all was ready, Lea and her people were bid-
den to come, and they all came out of the fort, dressed
very gaily and singing as is customary for guests to do.
And Lirou stepped out from among his people and took
Lea by the hand and seated her on a fine mat in the
place of honour, and as she sat with Lirou beside her,
a man blew a loud, long blast upon a conch shell and
the feast begaa"

Rai's story had interested me keenly, but I was now
guilty of a breach of native etiquette — I had to interrupt
him to ask how it was that the man Kol and others
who were friendly to the Yap people did not give them
a final warning of the intended massacre.

" Ah, I forgot to tell thee that Lirou was as cunning
as he was cruel, and ten days before the giving of the
feast he had sent away Kol and some others whom he
knew to be well disposed to the people of Yap. He
sent them to the islands of Pakin — ten leases from
Ponape, and desired them to catch turtle for him. But
with them he sent a trusty man, whom he took into his
confidence, and said, * Tell Rairik, Chief of Pakin, to
make some pretext, and prevent Kol from returning to
Ponap^ for a full moon. And say also that if he
yields not to my wish I shall destroy him and his
people.' "

" Ah," I said, " Lirou was a Napoleon."

156

THE STORY OF TOKOLME

'* Who was he ? "

" Oh, a great Franki chief, who was as lying and as
treacherous and cruel ^d merciless as Lirou. Some
day I will tell thee of him. Now, about the
feast."

** Ah, the feast After a little while, Lirou, whilst the
people ate, said softly to Lea, * Wilt thou not honour
me and be my wife ? I promise thee that I shall send
away my other wives, and thou alone shalt rule my
house and me.'

" Lea was displeased, and her eyes flashed with anger
as she drew away from him, and then Lirou seized her
by her wrist, and threw up his left hand.

" A long, loud blast sounded from the conch, and then
Lirou*s men, who were feasting, sprang to the great heap
of chips, and seized their weapons. And then began a
cruel slaughter — for what could three hundred unarmed
people do against so many I But yet some of the men
of Yap fought most bravely, and tearing clubs or short
stabbing spears from their treacherous enemies, they
killed over two score of Lirou's people.

" As Lea beheld the murdering of her kith and kin,
she cried piteously to Lirou to at least spare the women
and children, but he laughed and bade her be silent
Some of the women and children tried to escape to the
fort, but they were met by the men who had been in
ambush, and slain ruthlessly.

" When all was over, the bodies were taken to a high
cliff, and cast down into the valley below. Then Lirou

157

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

and his men entered the fort, and made great rejoicing
over their victory.

" Lea sat on a mat with her face in her hands, dumb
with grief, and Lirou bade her go to her sleeping-place,
telling her to rest, and that he would have speech with
her later on when he was in the mood. She obeyed,
and when she was unobserved she picked up a short,
broad -bladed dagger of talit (obsidian) and hid it in her
gfirdle, and then lay down and pretended to sleep. But
through the cane lattice-work of her sleeping-place she
watched Lirou.

" After Lirou had viewed the fort outside and inside,
he sent a man to Lea, bidding her come to him.

" She rose and came slowly to him, with her head
bent, and stood before him. Then suddenly she sprang
at him, and thrust the dagger into his heart. He fell
and died quickly.

^ Then Lea leapt over a part of the stone wall where
it was low, and ran towards the river, pursued by some
of Lirou's men. But she was fleet of foot, crossed the
river, and escaped into the jungle and rested awhile.
Then she passed out of the jungle into the rough
mountain country, and that night she reached King
Roka's town.

" Roka made her very welcome, and was filled with
anger when she told her story.

** * I will quickly punish these cruel murderers,' he
said ; ' as for thee. Lea, make this thy home and dwell
with us.'

"Roka gathered together his fighting men. Half
he sent to Roan Kiti by water, and half he himself led

158

THE STORY OF TOKOLME

across the mountains. They fell upon Lirou's people
at night, and slew nearly half of the men, and drove
all the rest into the mountains, where they remained
for many months, broken and hunted men.
" That is the story of Tokolm^."

159

CHAPTER XVI

" LAN0-T6 "

A WHITE rain squall came crashing through the moun-
tain forest, and then went humming northward across
the quiet lake, down over the wooded littoral and far
out to sea Silence once more, and then a mountain
cock, who had scorned the sweeping rain, uttered his
shrill, cackling, and defiant crow, as he shook the water
from his black and golden back and long snaky neck,
and savage, fierce-eyed head.

Between two wide-flanking buttresses of a mighty
tamana tree I had taken shelter, and was comfortably
seated on the thick carpet of soft dry leaves, when I
heard my name called, and looking up, I saw, a few
yards away, the grave face of an elderly Samoan,
named Marisi (Maurice). We were old acquaintances.

" Talofa, Marisi. What doest thou up here at Lano-
to ? " I said, as I shook hands and offered him my pipe
for a draw.

" I and my nephew Mana-ese and his wife have
come here to trap pigeons. For three days we have
been here. Our little hut is close by. Wilt come and
rest, and cat ? "

x6o

" LANO-TO "

"Aye, indeed, for I am tired. And this Lake of
Lano-to is a fine place whereat to rest '

Marisi nodded. '*That is true. Nowhere in all
Samoa, except from the top of the dead fire mountain
in Savai'i, can one see so far and so much that is good
to look upon. Come, friend."

I had shot some pigeons, which Marisi took from me,
and began to pluck as he led the way along a narrow
path that wound round the edge of the crater, which
held the lake in its rugged but verdure-clad bosom.
In a few minutes we came to an open-sided hut, with
a thatched roof. It stood on the verge of a little tree-
clad bluff, overlooking the lake, two hundred feet
below. Seated upon some of the coarse mats of
coco-nut leaf called tapdau was a fine, stalwart young
Samoan engaged in feeding some wild pigeons in a
large wicker-work cage. He greeted me in the usual
hospitable native manner, and taking some fine mats
from one of the house beams, his uncle and I seated
ourselves, whilst he went to seek his wife, to bid her
make ready an umu (earth oven). Whilst he was away,
my host and I plucked the pigeons, and also a fat wild
duck which Marisi had shot in the lake that morning.
In half an hour the young couple returned, the woman
carrying a basket of taro, and the man a bunch of
cooking bananas. Very quickly the oven of hot stones
was ready, and the game, taro and bananas covered
up with leaves.

I had crossed to Lano-to from the village of Safata
on the south side of Upolu and was on my way to
Apia The previous night I had slept in the bush on

x6x xz

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

the summit of the range. Marisi gravely told me that
I had been foolish — the mountain forest was full of
ghosts, etc.

Marisi himself lived in Apia, and he gave me two
weeks' local gossip. He and his nephew and niece
had come to remain at the lake for a few days, for they
had a commission to catch and tame ten pigeons for
some district chief, whose daughter was about to be
married

We had a delightful meal, followed by a bowl of kava
(mixed with water from the lake), and as I was not
pressed for time I accepted my host's invitation to re-
main for the night, and part of the foUowino^ day.

This was my fourth or fifth visit to this beautiful
mountain lake of Lano-to (/>., the Deep Lake), and the
oftener I came the more its beauty grew upon me.
Alas ! its sweet solitude is now disturbed by the cheap
Cockney and Yankee tourist globe-trotter who come
there in the American excursion steamers. In the
olden days only natives frequented the spot — very
rarely was a white man seen. To reach it from Apia
takes about five hours on foot, but there is now a regu-
lar road on which one can travel two-thirds of the way
on horseback.

The surface of the water, which is a little over two
hundred feet from the rugged rim of the crater, is accord-
ing to Captain Zemsch, two thousand three hundred
feet above the sea, the distance across the crater is
nearly one thousand two hundred yards. The water is
always cold, but not too cold to bathe in, and during
the rainy season — November to March — is frequented

162

" LANO-TO "

by hundreds of wild duck. All the forest about teems
with pigeons, which love the vicinity of Lano-to, on ac-
count of the numbers of masdoi trees there, on the rich
fruit of which they feed, and all day long, from dawn
to dark, their deep croo I may be heard mingling with
the plaintive cry of the ringdove.

The view from the crater is of matchless beauty — I
know of nothing to equal it, except it be Pago Pago
harbour in Tutuila, looking southwards from the moun-
tain tops. Here at Lano-to you can see the coast line
east and west for twenty miles. Westwards looms the
purple dome of Savai'i, thirty miles away. Directly be-
neath you is Apia, though you can see nothing of it ex-
cept perhaps some small black spots floating on the
smooth water inside the reef. They are ships at anchor.
Six leagues to the westward the white line of reef trends
away from the shore, makes a sharp turn, and then runs
southward. Within this bend the water is a brilliant
green, and resting upon it are two small islands. One
is Manono, a veritable garden, lined with strips of shin-
ing beaches and fringed with cocos. It is the home of
the noble families of Samoa, and most of the past great
chiefs are buried there. Beyond is the small but lofty
crater island of Apolima — a place ever impr^nable to
assault by natives. Its red, southern face starts steep-to
from the sea, the top is crowned with palms, and on the
northern side what was once the crater is now a romantic
bay, with an opening through the reef, and a tiny, happy
little village nestling under the swaying palms. "lis
one of the sweetest spots in all the wide Pacific And,
ihank Heaven, it haa but seldom beea defiled by the

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

globe-trotter. The passage is difficult even for a canoe.
One English lady, however (the Countess of Jersey), I
believe once visited it

Under the myriad stars, set in a sky of deepest blue,
Marisi and I lie outside the huts upon our sleeping mats,
and talk of the old Samoan days, till it is far into the
quiet, voiceless night

At dawn we are called inside by the woman, who
chides us for sleeping in the dew.

'* Listen," says Marisi, raising his hand.

It is the faint, musical gabble of the wild ducks, as
they swim across the lake.

** What now ? " asks the woman, as her husband looks
to his gun. " Hast no patience to sit and smoke till I
make an oven and get thee food ? The paio (ducks)
can wait And first feed the pigeons — thou lazy
fellow."

16*

CHAPTER XVII

"OMBRE CHEVALIER"

Once, after many years' wanderings in the North
and South Pacific as shore trader, supercai^o and
** recruiter" in the Kanaka labour trade, I became
home-sick and returned to my native Australia, with
a vague idea of settling down. I began the ** settling
down " by going to some newly opened gold-fields in
North Queensland, wandering about from the Charters
Towers " rush" to the Palmer River and Hodgkinson
River rushes. The party of diggers I joined were
good sterling fellows, and although we did not load
ourselves with nuggets and gold dust, we did fairly
well at times, especially in the far north of the colony
where most of the alluvial gold-fields were rich, and
new-comers especially had no trouble in getting on to
a good show. I was the youngest of the party, and
consequently the most inexperienced, but my mates
good-naturedly overlooked my shortcomings as a pro-
spector and digger, especially as I had constituted
myself the "tucker" provider when our usual rations
of salt beef ran out. I had brought with me a Win-
chester rifie, a shot gun and plenty of ammunition for

165

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH |

both, and plenty of fishing tackle. So, at such times,
instead of working at the claim, I would take my rifle
or g^n or fishing lines and sally forth at early dawn,
and would generally succeed in bringing back some-
thing to the camp to serve instead of beef. In the
summer months game, such as it was, was fairly i

plentiful, and nearly all the rivers of North Queensland
abound in fish.

In the open country we sometimes shot more plain
turkeys than we could eat. When on horseback one
could approach within a few yards of a bird before it
would take to flight, but on foot it was difficult to
get within range of one, unless a rifle was used. In
the rainy season all the water holes and lagoons
literally teemed with black duck, wood-duck, the black
and white Burdekin duck, teal, spur-winged plover,
herons and other birds, and a single shot would account
for a dozen. My mates, however, like all diggers,
believed in and wanted beef — mutton we scarcely ever
tasted, except when near a township where there was
a butcher, for sheep do not thrive in that part of the
colony and are generally brought over in mobs from
the Peak Downs District or Southern Queensland.

Our party at first numbered four, but at Townsville
(Cleveland Bay) one of our number left us to return
to New Zealand on account of the death of his father.
And we were a very happy party, and although at
times I wearied of the bush and longed for a sight of
the sea again, the gold-fever had taken possession of
me entirely and I was content

Once a party of three of us were prpspecting in the

z66

"OMBRE CHEVALIER"

vicinity of Scarr's (or Carr's) Creek, a tributary of the
Upper Burdekin River. It was in June, and the nights
were very cold, and so we were pleased to come across
a well-sheltered little pocket, a few hundred yards from
the creek, which at this part of its course ran very
swiftly between high, broken walls of granite. Timber
was abundant, and as we intended to thoroughly pros-
pect the creek up to its head, we decided to camp
at the pocket for two or three weeks, and put up a
bark hut, instead of shivering at night under a tent
without a fire. The first day we spent in stripping
bark, piled it up, and then weighted it down heavily
with logs. During the next few days, whilst my mates
were building the hut, I had to scour the country in
search of game, for our supply of meat had run out,
and although there were plenty of cattle running in
the vicinity, we did not care to shoot a beast, although

we were pretty sure that C , the owner of the

nearest cattle station, would cheerfully have given us
permission to do so had we been able to have com-
municated with him. But as his station was forty
miles away, and all our horses were in poor condition
from overwork, we had to content ourselves with a
chance kangaroo, rock wallaby, and such birds as we
could shoot, which latter were few and far between.
The country was very rough, and although the granite
ranges and boulder-covered spurs held plenty of fat
rock wallabies, it was heart-breaking work to get
within shot Still, we managed to turn in at nights
feeling satisfied with our supper, for we always man-
aged to shoot something, and fortunately had plenty

167

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

of flour, tea, sugar, and tobacco, and were very hope-
ful that we should get on to "something good'* by
careful prospecting.

On the day that we arrived at the pocket, I went
down the steep bank of the creek to get water, and
was highly pleased to see that it contained fish. At
the foot of a waterfall there was a deep pool, and in
it I saw numbers of fish, very like grayling, in fact
some Queenslanders call them grayling. Hurrying
back to the camp with the water, I got out my fishing
tackle (last used in the Burdekin River for bream), and
then arose the question of bait Taking my gun I
was starting off to look for a bird of some sort, when
one of my mates told me that a bit of wallaby was
as good as anything, and cut me off a piece from the
ham of one I had shot the previous day. The flesh
was of a very dark red hue, and looked right enough,
and as I had often caught fish in both the Upper and
Lower Burdekin with raw beef, I was very hopeful
of getting a nice change of diet for our supper.

I was not disappointed, for the fish literally jumped
at the bait, and I had a delightful half-hour, catching
enough in that time to provide us with breakfast as
well as supper. None of my catch were over half a
pound, many not half that weight, but hungry men
are not particular about the size of fish. My mates
were pleased enough, and whilst we were enjoying our
supper before a blazing fire — for night was coming on —
we heard a loud coo-e-c from down the creek, and

presently C , the owner of the cattle station, and

two of his stockmen with a black boy, rode up and

z68

"OMBRE CHEVALIER"

joined us. They had come to muster cattle in the
ranges at the head of the creek, and had come t6 our

" pocket " to camp for the night. C told us that

we need never have hesitated about killing a beast.
" It is to my interest to give prospecting parties all the
beef they want/' he said ; *' a payable gold-field about
here would suit me very well — the more diggers that
come, the more cattle I can sell, instead of sending
them to Charters Towers and Townsville. So, when
you run short of meat, knock over a beast. I won't
grumble. I'll round up the first mob we come across
to-morrow, and get you one and bring it here for you
to kill, as your horses are knocked up."

The night turned out very cold, and although we were
in a sheltered place, the wind was blowing half a gale,
and so keen that we felt it through our blankets. How-
ever it soon died away, and we were just going comfort-
ably to sleep, when a dingo began to howl near us, and
was quickly answered by another somewhere down the
creek. Although there were but two of them, they
howled enough for a whole pack, and the detestable
creatures kept us awake for the greater part of the night.
As there was a cattle camp quite near, in a sandalwood
scrub, and the cattle were very wild, we did not like to
alarm them by firing a shot or two, which would have

scared them as well as the dingoes. The latter, C

told us, were a great nuisance in this part of the run,
would not take a poisoned bait, and had an unpleasant
trick of biting off the tails of very young calves, especi-
ally if the mother was separated with her calf from a
mob of cattle.

169

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

At daylight I rose to boil a billy of tea. My feet were
icy cold, and I saw that there had been a black frost in
the night I also discovered that my string of fish for
breakfast was gone. I had hung them up to a low branch

•not thirty yards from where I had slept. C 's black

boy told me with a grin that the dogs had taken them,
and showed me the tracks of three or four through the
frosty grass. He had slept like a pig all night, and all
the dingoes in Australia would not awaken a black fellow

with a full stomach of beef, damper and tea. C

laughed at my chagrin, and told me that native dogs,

when game is scarce, will catch fish if they are hungry,

and can get nothing else. He had once seen, he told me,

two native dogs acting in a very curious manner in a

waterhole on the Etheridge River. There had been a

rather long drought, and for miles the bed of the river was

dry, except for intermittent waterholes. These were all

full of fish, many of which had died, owing to the water in

the shallower pools becoming too hot for them to exist

Dismounting, he laid himself down on the bank, and

soon saw that the dogs were catching fish, which they

chased to the edge of the pool, seized them and carried

them up on the sand to devour. They made a full

meal ; then the pair trotted across the river bed, and

lay down under a Leichhardt tree to sleep it off. The

Etheridge and Gilbert Rivers aboriginals also assured

C that their own dogs — bred from dingoes — were

very keen on catching fish, and sometimes were badly
wounded in their mouths by the serrated spur or back
fin of catfish.

C and his party went off after breakfast, and re-

170

"OMBRE CHEVALIER"

turned in the afternoon with a small mob of cattle, and
my mates, picking out an eighteen months' old heifer,
shot her, and set to work, and we soon had the animal
skinned, cleaned and hung up, ready for cutting up and
salting early on the following morning. We carefully
burnt the offal, hide and head, on account of the dingoes,
and finished up a good day's work by a necessary bathe
in the clear, but too cold water of the creek. We turned
in early, tired out, and scarcely had we rolled ourselves
in our blankets when a dismal howl made us '' say things,"
and in half an hour all the dingoes in North Queensland
seemed to have gathered around the camp to distract us.
The noise they made was something diabolical, coming
from both sides of the creek, and from the ranges. In
reality there were not more than five or six at the out-
side, but any one would imagine that there were droves
of them. Not liking to discharge our guns on account

of C 's mustering, we could only curse our tormentors

throughout the night. On the following evening, how-
ever, knowing that C had finished mustering in our

vicinity, we hung a leg bone of the heifer from the branch
of a tree on the opposite side of the creek, where we could
see it plainly by daylight from our bank — about sixty
yards distant. Again we had a harrowing night, but
stood it without firing a shot, though one brute came
within a few yards of our camp fire, attracted by the
smell of the salted meat, but he was off before any one of
us could cover him. However, in the morning we were
rewarded.

Creeping to the bank of the creek at daylight we
looked across, and saw three dogs sitting under the leg

17X

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

bone, which was purposely slung out of reach. We fired
together, and the biggest of the three dropped — ^the
other two vanished like a streak of lightning. The one
we killed was a male and had a good coat — a rather un-
usual thing for a dingo, as the skin is often covered with
sores. From that time, till we broke up camp, we were
not often troubled by their howling near us — a gun shot
would quickly silence their dismally infernal howls.

During July we got a little gold fifteen miles from
the head of the creek, but not enough to pay us for
our time and labour. However, it was a fine healthy
occupation, and our little bark hut in the lonely ranges
was a very comfortable home, especially during wet
weather, and on cold nights. A good many birds
came about towards the end of the month, and we
twice rode to the Burdekin and had a couple of days
with the bream, filling our pack bags with fish, which
cured well with salt in the dry air. Although Scarr's
creek was full of "grayling" they were too small for
salting ; but were delicious eating when fried. During
our stay we got enough opossum skins to make a fine
eight-feet square rug. Then early one morning we
said good-bye to the pocket, and mounting our horses
set our faces towards Cleveland Bay, where, with many
regrets, I had to part with my mates who were going
to try the Gulf country with other parties of diggers.
They tried hard to induce me to go with them, but
letters had come to me from old comrades in Samoa
and the Caroline Islands, tempting me to return. And,
of course, they did not tempt in vain ; for to us old
hands who have toiled by rcef and palm the isles of the

172

"OMBRE CHEVALIER'*

southern seas are for ever calling as the East called to
Kipling's soldier man. Bot another six months passed
before I left North Queensland and once more found
myself sailing out of Sydney Heads on board one of
my old ships and in my old berth as supercargo,
though, alas! with a strange skipper who knew not
Joseph, and with whom I and every one else on board
was in constant friction. However, that is another
story.

After bidding my mates farewell I returned to the
Charters Towers district and picked up a new mate —
an old and experienced digger who had found some
patches of alluvial gold on the head waters of a tribu-
tary of the Burdekin River and was returning there.
My new mate was named Giliillan. He was a hard-
working, blue-eyed Scotsman and had had many and
strange experiences in all parts of the world — had been
one of the civilian fighters in the Indian Mutiny, fur-
seal hunting on the PribilofT Islands in an American
schooner, and shooting buffaloes for their hides in the
Northern Territory of South Australia, where he had
twice been speared by the blacks.

On reaching the head waters of the creek on which
Gilfillan had washed out nearly a hundred ounces of
gold some months previously, we found to our disgust
over fifty diggers in possession of the ground, which
they had practically worked out — ^some one had dis-
covered Gilfillan's old workings and the place was at
once "rushed". My mate took matters very philo-
aophically-^did not even swear — and we decided to
make for the Don River in the Port Denison district,

173

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

where, it was rumoured, some rich patches of alluvial
gold had just been discovered.

We both had good horses and a pack horse, and as

C ^'s station lay on our route and I had a standing

invitation to pay him a visit (given to me when he
had met our party at Scarr*s Creek), I suggested that we
should go there and spell for a few days. So there we

went and C made us heartily welcome; and .he

also told us that the new rush on the Don River had
turned out a " rank duffer," and that we would only be
wearing ourselves and our horse-flesh out by going
there. He pressed us to stay for a week at least, and
as we now had no fixed plans for the ftiture we were
glad to do so. He was expecting a party of visitors
from Charters Towers, and as he wanted to give them
something additional to the usual fare of beef and
mutton, in the way of fish and game, he asked us to
join him for a day's fishing in the Burdekin River.

The station was right on the bank of the river, but
at a spot where neither game nor fish were at all plenti-
ful ; so long before sunrise on the following morning,
under a bright moon and clear sky, we started, ac-
companied by a black boy, leading a pack horse, for
the junction of the Kirk River with the Burdekin,
where there was excellent fishing, and where also we
were sure of getting teal and wood-duck.

A two hours' easy ride along the grassy, open tim-
bered high banks of the great river brought us to the
junction. The Kirk, when running along its course, is
a wide, sandy-bottomed stream, with here and there
deep rocky pools^ and its whole coarse is fringed with

"OMBRE CHEVALIER"

the everlasting and ever-green sheoaks. We unsaddled
in a delightfully picturesque spot, near the meeting of
the waters, and in a few minutes, whilst the billy was

boiling for tea, C and I were looking to our short

bamboo rods and lines, and our guns. Then, after
hobbling out the horses, and eating a breakfast of cold
beef and damper, we started to walk through the high,
dew-soaked grass to a deep, boulder-margined pool in
which the waters of both rivers mingled.

The black boy who was leading when we emerged
on the water side of the fringe of sheoaks, suddenly
halted and silently pointed ahead — ^a magnificent speci-
men of the "gigantic" crane was stalking sedately
through a shallow pool — his brilliant black and orange
plumage and scarlet legs glistening in the rays of the
early sun as he scanned the sandy bottom for fish.
We had no desire to shoot such a noble creature ; and
let him take flight in his slow, laboured manner. And,
for our reward, the next moment " Peter " the black
boy, brought down two out of three black duck,
which came flying right for his gun from across the
river.

Both rivers had long been low, and although the
streams were running in the centre of the beds of each,
there were countless isolated pools covered with blue-
flowered water-lilies, in which teal and other water-
birds were feeding. But for the time we gave them
no heed.

From one of the pools wc took our bait — small fish
the size of white-bait, with big, staring eyes, and
bodies of a transparent pink with silvery scales. They

175

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

were easily caught by running one's hand through the
weedy edges, and in ten minutes we had secured a
quart-pot full.

" Peter," who regarded our rods with contempt, was
the first to reach the boulders at the edge of the big
pool, which in the centre had a fair current; at the
sides, the water, although deep, was quiet. Squatting
down on a rock, he cast in his baited hand-line, and in
ten seconds he was nonchalantly pulling in a fine two
pound bream. He leisurely unhooked it, dropped it
into a small hole in the rocks, and then began to cut
up a pipeful of tobacco, before rebaiting I

The water was literally alive with fish, feeding on
the bottom. There were two kinds of bream — one a
rather slow-moving fish, with large, dark brown scales,
a perch-like mouth, and wide tail, and with the sides
and belly a dull white ; the other a very active game
fellow, of a more graceful shape, with a small mouth,
and very hard, bony gill plates. These latter fought
splendidly, and their mouths being so strong they
would often break the hooks and get away — as our
rods were very primitive, without reels, and only had
about twenty feet of line. Then there were the very
handsome and beautifully marked fish, like an English
grayling (some of which I had caught at Scarr's Creek) ;
they took the hook freely. The largest I have ever
seen would not weigh more than three-quarters of a
pound, but their lack of size is compensated for by
their extra delicate flavour. (In some of the North
Queensland inland rivers I have seen the aborigines net
these fish in hundreds in shallow pools.) Some busb-

Z76

"OMBRE CHEVALIER"

men persisted, so Gilfillan told me, in calling these fish
** fresh water mullet," or ** speckled mullet".

The first species of bream inhabit both clear and
muddy water ; but the second I have never seen caught
anywhere but in dear or running water, when the river
was low.

But undoubtedly the best eating fresh-water fish in
the Burdekin and other Australian rivers is the cat-fish,
or as some people call it, the Jew-fish. It is scaleless,
and almost finless, with a dangerously barbed dorsal
spine, which, if it inflicts a wound on the hand, causes
days of intense suffering. Its flesh is delicate and firm,
and with the exception of the vertebrae, has no long
bones. Rarely caught (except when small) in clear
water, it abounds when the water is muddy, and dis-
turbed through floods, and when a river becomes a
" banker," cat-fish can always be caught where the water
has reached its highest. They then come to feed liter-
ally upon the land — that is grass land, then under flood
water. A fish bait they will not take — as a rule — but
are fond of earthworms, frogs, crickets, or locusts, eta

Another very beautiful but almost useless fish met
with in the Upper Burdekin and its tributaries is the sil-
very bream, or as it is more generally called, the " hnny"
bream. They swim about in companies of some hun-
dreds, and frequent the still water of deep pools, will not
take a bait, and are only seen when the water is clear.
Then it is a delightful sight for any one to lie upon the
bank of some ti-tree-fringed creek or pool, when the
sun illumines the water and reveals the bottom, and
watch a school of these fish swimming closely and very

177 X2

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

slowly together, passing over submerged logs, roots of
trees or rocks, their scales of pure silver gleaming in
the sunlight as they make a simultaneous side move-
ment. I tried every possible bait for these fish, but
never succeeded in getting a bite, but have netted them
frequently. Their flesh, though delicate, can hardly be
eaten, owing to the thousands of tiny bones which run
through it, interlacing in the most extraordinary
manner. The blacks, however " make no bones ** about
devouring them.

By II A.M. wehad caught all the fish our pack-bags
could hold — bream, alleged grayling, and half a dozen
"gars" — the latter a beautifully shaped fish like the
sea-water garfish, but with a much flatter-sided body of
shining silver with a green back, the tail and fins tipped
with yellow.

We shot but few duck, but on our way home in the
afternoon " Peter " and Gilfillan each got a fine plain
turkey — shooting from the saddle — and almost as we
reached the station slip-rails " Peter," who had a wonder-
ful eye, got a third just as it rose out of the long dry
grass in the paddock.

And on the following day, when C 's guests ar-
rived (and after we had congratulated ourselves upon
having plenty for them to eat), they produced from their
buggies eleven turkeys, seven wood-duck, and a string
of" squatter " pigeons !

" Thought we'd better bring you some fresh tucker,

old man," said one of them to C . ** And we have

brought you a case of Tennant's ale."

" The world is very beautiful," said C , stroking

178

" OMBRE CHEVALIER "

his grey beard, and speaking in solemn tones, "and
this is a thirsty day. Come in, boys. We'll put the
Tennantfs in the water-barrels to cool."

The first occasion on which I ever saw and caught
one of the beautiful fish herein described as grayling
was on a day many months previous to our former
party camping on Scarr's Creek. We had camped on a
creek running into the Herbert River, near the foot of a
range of wild, jagged and distorted peaks and crags of
granite. Then there were several other parties of pro-
spectors camped near us, and, it being a Sunday, we
were amusing ourselves in various ways. Some had
gone shooting, others were washing clothes or bathing
in the creek, and one of my mates (a Scotsman named
Alick Longmuir) came fishing with me. Like Gilfillan,
he was a quiet, somewhat taciturn man. He had been
twenty-two years in Australia, sometimes mining, at
others following his profession of surveyor. He had
received his education in France and Grermany, and not
only spoke the languages of those countries fluently, but
was well-read in their literature. Consequently we all
stood in a certain awe of him as a man of parts ; for be-
sides being a scholar he was a splendid bushman and
rider and had a great reputation as the best wrestler in
Queensland. Even-tempered, good-natured and pos-
sessed of a fund of caustic humour, he was a great
favourite with the diggers, and when he sometimes
•* broke loose " and went on a terrific ** spree " (his only
fault) he made matters remarkably lively, poured out
his hard-earned money like water for a week or so — then

179

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

stopped suddenly, pulled himself together in an extra-
ordinary manner, and went about his work again as
usual, with a face as solemn as that of an owl.

A little distance from the camp we made our way
down through rugged, creeper-covered boulders to the
creek, to a fairly open stretch of water which ran over
its rocky bed into a series of small but deep pools. We
baited our lines with small grey grasshoppers, and cast
together.

" I wonder what we shall get here, Alick," I began,
and then came a tug and then the sweet, delightful thrill
of a game fish making a run. There is nothing like it
in all the world — the joy of it transcends the first kiss of
young lovers.

I landed my fish — a gleaming shaft of mottled grey
and silver with specks of iridescent blue on its head,
back and sides, and as I grasped its quivering form and
held it up to view my heart beat fast with delight

" Ombre chevalier / " I murmured to myself

Vanished the monotony of the Bush and the long,
weary rides over the sun-baked plains and the sound of
the pick and shovel on the gravel in the deep gullies
amid the stark, desolate ranges, and I am standing in
the doorway of a peaceful Mission House on a fair is-
land in the far South Seas — standing with a string of
fish in my hand, and before me dear old P^re Grand-
seigne with his flowing beard of snowy white and his
kindly blue eyes smiling into mine as he extends his
brown sun-burnt hand

" Ah, my dear young friend ! and so thou hast broi^ht

i8o

« OMBRE CHEVALIER"

me these fish — ombres chevaliers^ we call them in France
Are they not beautiful ! What do you call them in
England?"

" I have never been in England, Father ; so I cannot
tell you. And never before have I seen fish like these.
They are new to me."

" Ah, indeed, my son," and the old Marist smiles as
he motions me to a seat, " new to you. So ? . . . Here,
on this island, my sainted colleague Channel, who gave
up his life for Christ forty years ago under the clubs of
the savages, fished, as thou hast fished in that same
mountain stream; and his blood has sanctified its
waters. For upon its bank, as he cast his line one eve
he was slain by the poor savages to whom he had come
bearing the love of Christ and salvation. After we have
supped to-night, I shall tell thee the story."

And after the Angelus bells had called, and as the
cocos swayed and rustled to the night breeze and the
surf beat upon the reef in Singavi Bay, we sat together
on the verandah of the quiet Mission House on the hill
above, which the martyred Channel had named " Cal-
vary," and I listened to the old man's story of his
beloved comrade's death.

As Longmuir and I lay on our blankets under the
starlit sky of the far north of Queensland that night,
and the horse-bells tinkled and our mates slept, we
talked.

" Aye, lad," he said, sleepily, " the auld padre gave
them the Breton name — ombre chevalier In Scotland
and England — if ever ye hae the good luck to go there

i8z

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

— ye will hear talk of grayUn*. Aye, the bonny gray-
h'n* ... an' the purple heather ... an' the cry o' the
whaups. . . . Lad, ye hae much to see an' hear yet, for
all the cruising ye hae done. . . . Aye, the graylin', an*
the white mantle o' the mountain mist ... an' the
voices o* the night . . . Lad, it's just gran'.'

.» »i

Sleep, and then again the tinkle of the horse-bells at
dawn.

X82

CHAPTER XVIII

A RECLUSE OF THE BUSH

The bank of the tidal river was very, very quiet as I
walked down to it throi^h the tall spear grass and sat
down upon the smooth, weather-worn bole of a great
blackbutt tree, cast up by the river when in flood long
years agone. Before me the water swirled and eddied
and bubbled past on its way to mingle with the ocean
waves, as they were sweeping in across the wide and
shallow bar, two miles away.

The sun had dropped behind the rugged line of purple
mountains to the west, and, as I watched by its after
glow five black swans floating towards me upon the
swiftly-flowing water, a footstep sounded near me, and a
man with a gun and a bundle on his shoulder bade me
** good-evening," and then asked me if I had come from
Port (a little township five miles away).

Yes, I replied, I had.

" Is the steamer in from Sydney ? "

*' No. I heard that she is not expected in for a couple
of days yet. There has been bad weather on the coast"

The man uttered an exclamation of annoyance, and

183

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

laying down his gun, sat beside me, pulled out and lit
his pipe, and gazed meditatively across the darkening
river. He was a tall, bearded fellow, and dressed in
the usual style aflfected by the timber-getters and other
bushmen of the district Presently he began to talk.

" Are you going back to Port to-night, mister ? "

he asked, civilly.

" No," and I pointed to my gun, bag, and billy can,
" I have just come from there. I am waiting here till
the tide is low enough for me to cross to the other side.
I am going to the Warra Swamp for a couple of days'
shooting and fishing, and to-night TU camp over there
in the wild apple scrub," pointing to a dark line of
timber on the opposite side.

" Do you mind my coming with you ? "

** Certainly not — glad of your company. Where are
you going ? "

" Well, I was going to Port , to sell these platy-
pus skins to the skipper of the steamer; but I don't
want to loaf about the town for a couple o' days for the
sake of getting two pounds five shillings for fifteen skins.
So ril get back to my humphy. It's four miles the
other side o' Warra."

"Then by all means come and camp with me to-
night," I said " I've plenty of tea and sugar and tucker,
and after we get to the apple scrub over there we'll have
supper. Then in the morning we'll make an early start
It is only ten miles from there to Warra Swamp, and I'm
in no hurry to get there."

The stranger nodded, and then, seeking out a suit-
able tree, tied his bundle of skins to a high branch, so

184

A RECLUSE OF THE BUSH

that it should be out of the reach of dingoes, and said
they would be safe enough until his return on his way
to the Port Half an hour later, the tide being low
enough, we crossed the river, and under the bright light
of myriad stars made our way along the spit of sand to
the scrub. Here we lit our camp fire under the trees,
boiled our billy of tea, and ate our cold beef and bread.
Then we lay down upon the soft, sweet-smelling carpet
of dead leaves, and yarned for a couple of hours before
sleeping.

By the light of the fire I saw that my companion was
a man of about forty years of age, although he looked
much older, his long untrimmed brown beard and un-
kept hair being thickly streaked with grey. He was
quiet in manner and speech, and the latter was entirely
free from the Great Australian Adjective. His story,
as far as he told it to me, was a simple one, yet with an
element of tragedy in it.

Fifteen years before, he and his brother had taken up
a selection on the Brunswick River, near the Queens-
land border, and were doing fairly well. One day they
felled a big gum tree to split for fencing rails. As it
crashed towards the ground, it struck a dead limb of an-
other great tree, which was sent flying towards where
the brothers stood ; it struck the elder one on the head,
and killed him instantly. There were no neighbours
nearer than thirty miles, so alone the survivor buried
his brother. Then came two months of utter loneliness,
and Joyce abandoned his selection to the bush, selling
his few head of cattle and horses to his nearest neigh-
bour for a small sum, keeping only one horse for himself

Z85

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

Then for two or three years he worked as a " hatter "
(ie.y single-handed) in various tin-mining districts of
the New England district

One day during his many solitary prospecting trips,
he came across a long-abandoned selection and house,
near the Warra Swamp (I knew the spot well)L He
took a fancy to the place, and settled down there, and
for many years had lived there all alone, quite content

Sometimes he would obtain a few weeks' work on
the cattle stations in the district, when mustering and
branding was going on, by which he would earn a few
pounds, but he was always glad to get back to his
lonely home again. He had made a little money also,
he said, by trapping platypus, which were plentiful, and
sometimes, too, he would prospect the head waters of
the creeks, and get a little fine gold.

" Tm comfortable enough, you see," he added ; " lots
to eat and drink, and putting by a little cash as well.
Then I haven't to depend upon the storekeepers at

Port for anything, except powder and shot, flour,

salt, tea and sugar. There's lots of game and fish all
about me, and when I want a bit of fresh beef and
some more to salt down, I can get it without breaking
the law, or paying for it"

" How is that ? " I inquired.

** There are any amount of wild cattle running in
the ranges — all clean-skins " (unbranded), " and no one
claims them. One squatter once tried to get some
of them down into his run in the open country — he
might as well have tried to yard a mob of dingoes."

" Then how do you manage to get a beast ? "

i86

A RECLUSE OF THE BUSH

"Easy enough. I have an old poh'ce rifle, and
every three months or so, when my stock of beef is
low, I saddle my old pack moke, and start off to the
ranges. I know all the cattle tracks leading to the
camping and drinking places, and generally manage
to kill my beast at or near a waterhole. Then I cut
off the best parts only, and leave the rest for the
hawks and dingoes. I camp there for the night, and
get back with my load of fresh beef the next day.
Some I dry-salt, some I put in brine."

Early in the morning we started on our ten miles*
tramp through the coastal scrub, or rather forest. Our
course led us away from the sea, and nearly parallel
to the river, and I thoroughly enjoyed the walk, and
my companion's interesting talk. He had a wonderful
knowledge of the bush, and of the habits of wild
animals and birds, much of which he had acquired from
the aborigines of the Brunswick River district. As
we were walking along, I inquired how he managed
to get platypus without shooting them. He hesitated,
and half smiled, and I at once apologised, and said
I didn't intend to be inquisitive. He nodded, and said
no more ; but he afterwards told me he caught them
by netting sections of the river at night

After we had made about five miles we came to the
first crossing above the bar. This my acquaintance

always used when he visited Port (taking the track

along the bank on the other side), for the bar was only
crossable at especially low tides. Here, although the
water was brackish, we saw swarms of " block-headed "
mullet and grey bream swimming close in to the sandy

187

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

bank, and, had we cared to do so, could have caught
a bagful in a few minutes But we pushed on for
another two miles, and on our way shot three '' bronze
wing " pigeons.

We reached the Warra Swamp at noon, and camped
for dinner in a shady ** bangalow " grove, so as not to
disturb the ducks, whose delightful gabble and piping
was plainly audible. We grilled our birds, and made
our tea. Whilst we were having a smoke, a truly
magnificent white-headed fish eagle lit on the top of
a dead tree, three hundred yards away — a splendid
shot for a rifle. It remained for some minutes, then
rose and went off seaward. Joyce told me that the
bird and its mate were very familiar to him for a year
past, but that he *^ hadn't the heart to take a shot at
them " — for which he deserved to be commended.

Presently, seeing me cutting some young supplejack
vines, my new acquaintance asked me their purpose. I
told him that I meant to make a light raft out of dead
timber to save me from swimming after any ducks that
I might shoot, and that the supplejack was for lashing.
Then, to my surprise and pleasure, he proposed that I
should go on to his " humphy," and camp there for the
night, and he would return to the swamp with me in
the morning, join me in a day's shooting and fishing,
and then come on with me to the township on the
following day.

Gladly accepting his offer, two hours' easy walking
brought us to his home — a roughly-built slab shanty
with a bark roof, enclosed in a good-sized paddock, in
which his old pack horse, several goats and a cow and

z88

A RECLUSE OF THE BUSH

calf were feeding. At the side of the house was a
small but well-tended vegetable garden, in which were
also some huge water-melons^-quite ripe, and just the
very thing after our fourteen miles' walk. One-half of
the house and roof was covered with scarlet runner bean
plants, all in full bearing, and altogether the exterior of
the place was very pleasing. Before we reached the
door two dc^s, which were inside, began a terrific din
— they knew their master's step. The interior of the
house — which was of two rooms — was clean and orderly,
the walls of slabs being papered from top to bottom
with pictures from illustrated papers, and the floor was
of hardened clay. Two or three rough chairs, a bench
and a table comprised the furniture, and y^t the place
had a home-like look.

My host asked me if I could " do " with a drink of
bottled-beer; I suggested a slice of water-melon.

"Ah, you're right But those outside are too hot
Here's a cool one," and going into the other room he
produced a monster. It was delicious I

After a bathe in the creek near by, we had a hearty
supper, and then sat outside yarning and smoking till
turn-in time.

Soon after a sunrise breakfast, we started for the
swamp, taking the old packhorse with us, my host
leaving food and water for the dogs, who howled dis-
consolately as we went off.

At the swamp we had a glorious day's sport, al-
though there were altogether too many black snakes
about for my taste. We camped there that night,
and returned to the port next day with a heavy load

189

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

of black duck, some " whistlers," and a few brace of
pigeons.

I bade farewell to my good-natured host with a feel-
ing of regret Some years later, on my next visit to
Australia, I heard that he had returned to his boyhood's
home — Gippsland in Victoria — and had married and
settled down. He was one of the most contented men
I ever met, and a good sportsman.

190

CHAPTER XIX

TE-BARI, THE OUTLAW

The Island of Upolu, in the Samoan group, averages
less than fifteen miles in width, and it is a delightful
experience to cross from Apia, or any other town on
the north, to the south side. The view to be obtained
from the summit of the range that traverses the island
from east to west is incomparably beautiful — I have
never seen anything to equal it an}nvhere in the Pacific
Isles.

A few years after the Germans had begun cotton
planting in Samoa, I brought to Apia ninety native
labourers from the Solomon Islands to work on the
big plantation at Mulifanua. I also brought with me
something I would gladly have left behind — the effects
of a very severe attack of malarial fever.

A week or so after I had reached Apia I gave myself
a few days' leave, intending to walk across the island to
the town of Siumu, where I had many native friends,
and try and work some of the fever poison out of my
system.

Starting long before sunrise, I was well past Vailima

191

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

Mountain — the destined future home of Stevenson — by
six o'clock. After resting for an hour at each of the
bush villages of Magiagi and Tanumamanono — soon to
be the scene of a cruel massacre in the civil war then
raging — I began the long, gradual ascent from the lit-
toral to the main range, inhaling deeply of the cool
morning air, and listening to the melodious croo I croo I
of the great blue pigeons, and the plaintive cry of the
ringdoves, so well termed manu-tagi (the weeping bird)
by the imaginative Samoans.

Walking but slowly, for I was not strong enough for
rapid exercise, I reached the summit of the first spur,
and again spelled, resting upon a thick carpet of cool,
dead leaves. With me was a boy from Tanumamanono
named Suisuega-le-moni (The Seeker after Truth), who
carried a basket containing some cooked food, and fifty
cartridges for my gun. *'Sui," as he was called for
brevity, was an old acquaintance of mine and one of
the most unmitigated young imps that ever ate taro^ as
handsome " as a picture," and a most notorious scandal-
monger and spy. He was only thirteen years of age,
and was of rebel blood, and, child as he was, he knew
that his head stood very insecurely upon his shoulders,
and that it would be promptly removed therefrom if
any of King Malietoa's troops could catch him spying
in flagrante delicto. Two years before, he had attached
himself to me, and had made a voyage with me to the
Caroline Islands, during which he had acquired an
enormous vocabulary of sailors' bad language. This
gave him great local kudos.

Sui was to accompany me to the top of the range,

192

TE-BARI, THE OUTLAW

and then return, as otherwise he would be in hostile
territory.

By four o'clock in the afternoon we had gained a
clear spot on the crest of the range, from where we had
a most glorious view of the south coast imaginable.
Three thousand feet below us were the russet-hued
thatched roofs of the houses of Siumu Village ; beyond,
the pale green water that lay between the barrier reef
and the mainland, then the long curving line of the reef
itself with its seething surf, and, beyond that again, the
deep, deep blue of the Pacific, sparkling brightly in the
westering sun.

Leaning my gun against one of the many buttresses
of a mighty masdoi tree, I was drinking in the beauty
of the scene, when we heard the shrill, cackling scream
of a mountain cock, evidently quite near. Giving the
boy my gun, I told him to go and shoot it ; then sitting
down on the carpet of leaves, I awaited his return with
the bird, half-resolved to spend the night where I was,
for I was very tired and began to feel the premonitory
chills of an attack of ague.

In ten minutes the sound of a gun-shot reverberated
through the forest aisles, and presently I heard Sui re-
turning. He was running, and holding by its neck one
of the biggest mountain cocks I ever saw. As he ran,
he kept glancing back over his shoulder, and when he
reached me and threw down gun and bird, I saw that
he was trembling from head to foot.

" What is the matter ? " I asked ; " hast seen an aitu
vao (evil spirit of the forest) ? "

**Aye, truly," he said shudderingly, "I have seen a

193 *3

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

devil indeed, and the marrow in my bones has gone —
I have seen Te-bari, the Tafito." ^

I sprang to my feet and seized him by the wrist

" Where was he ? " I asked.

" Quite near me. I had just shot the wild moa vao
(mountain cock) and had picked it up when I heard a
voice say in Samoan — but thickly as foreigners speak :
* It was a brave shot, boy*. Then I looked up and
saw Te-barl He was standing against the bole of a
masdoi tree, leaning on his rifle. Round his earless
head was bound a strip of ie mumu (red Turkey twill),
and as I stood and trembled he laughed, and his great
white teeth gleamed, and my heart died within me,
and "

I do not want to disgust my readers, but truth com-
pels me to say that the boy there and then became vio-
lently sick ; then he began to sob with terror, stopping
every now and then to glance around at the now
darkening forest aisles of grey-barked, ghostly and
moss-covered trees.

"Sui," I said, "go back to your home. I have no
fear of Te-bari."

In two seconds the boy, who had faced rifle fire time
and time again, fled homewards. Te-bari the outlaw
was too much for him.

Personally I had no reason to fear meeting the man.
In the first place I was an^ Englishman, and Te-bari
was known to profess a liking for Englishmen, though
he would eagerly cut the throat of a German or a
Samoan if he could get his brawny hands upon it ; in

1 The Samoans tenn all the natives of the Equatorial Islands '* Tafito *'.

194

TE-BARI, THE OUTLAW

the second place, although I had never seen the man, I
was sure that he would have heard of me from some of
his fellow islanders on the plantations, for during my
three years' " recruiting " in the Kingsmill and Gilbert
Groups, I have brought many hundreds of them to
Samoa, Fiji and Tahiti.

Something of his story was known to me. He was
a native of the great square-shaped atoll of Maiana, and
went to sea in a whaler when he was quite a lad, and
soon rose to be boat-steerer. One day a Portuguese
harpooner struck him in the face and drew blood — a
deadly insult to a Line Islander. Te-bari plunged his
knife into the man's heart. He was ironed, and put in
the sail-locker ; during the night three of the Portuguese
sprang in upon him and cut off his ears. A few days
later when the ship was at anchor at the Bonin Islands,
Te-bari freed himself of his handcuffs and swam on
shore Early on the following morning one of the
boats was getting fresh water. She was in charge of
the fourth mate — a Portuguese black. Suddenly a
nude figure leapt among the men, and clove the officer's
head in twain with a tomahawk.

One day Te-bari reappeared among his people at
Maiana and took service with a white trader, who always
spoke of him as a quiet, hardworking young man, but
with a dangerous temper when roused by a fancied
wrong. In due time Te-bari took a wife — took her in a
very literal sense, by killing her husband and escaping
with her to the neighbouring island of Taputeauea
(Drummond's Island). She was a pretty, graceful
creature of sixteen years of age. Then one day there

195

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

came along the German labour brig Adolph^ seeking
" blackbirds " for Samoa, and Te-bari and his pretty wife
with fifty other "Tafitos" were landed at one of the
plantations in Upolu.

Young Madame Te-bari was not as good as she ought
to have been, and one day the watchful husband saw
one of the German overseers give her a thick necklace
of fine red beads. Te-bari tore them from her neck,
and threw them into the German's face. For this he re-
ceived a flogging and was mercilessly kicked into insen-
sibility as well When he recovered he was transferred
to another plantation — minus the naughty Nireeungo,
who became " Mrs." Peter Clausen. A month passed,
and it was rumoured " on the beach " that " No-Ears," as
Te-bari was called, had escaped and taken to the bush
with a brand-new Snider carbine, and as many cartridges
as he could carry, and Mr. Peter Clausen was advised
to look out for himself! He snorted contemptuously.

Two young Samoan "bucks" were sent out to cap-
ture Te-bari, and bring him back, dead or alive, and re-
ceive therefor one hundred bright new Chile dollars.
They never returned, and when their bodies were found
in a deep mountain gully, it was known that the earless
one was the richer by a sixteen-shot Winchester with
fifty cartridges, and a Swiss Vetterli rifle, together with
some twist tobacco, and the two long nifa oti^ or
"death knives," with which these valorous, but mis-
guided young men intended to remove the earless head
of the " Tafito pig " from his brawny, muscular shoulders.

Te-bari made his way, encumbered as he was with
his armoury, along the crest of the mountain range, till

196

TE-BARI, THE OUTLAW

he was within striking distance of his enemy, Clausen,
and the alleged Frau Clausen — nie Nireeungo. He hid
on the outskirts of the plantation, and soon got in touch
with some of his former comrades. They gave him
food, and much useful information.

One night, during heavy rain, when every one was
asleep on the plantation, Te-bari entered the overseer's
house by the window. A lamp was burning, and by its
light he saw his faithless spouse sleeping alone. Clausen
— lucky Clausen — had been sent into Apia an hour before
to get some medicine for one of the manager's childrea
Te-bari was keenly disappointed. He would only have
half of his revenge. He crept up to the sleeper, and
made one swift blow with the heavy nifa oti. Then he
became very busy for a few minutes, and a few hours
later was back in the mountains, smoking Clausen's
tobacco, and drinking some of Clausen's com schnapps.

When Clausen rode up to his house at three o'clock
in the morning, he found the lamp was burning
brightly. Nireeungo was lying on the bed, covered
over with a quilt of navy blue. He called to her, but
she made no answer, and Clausen called her a sleepy
little pig. Then he turned to the side table to take a
drink of schnapps — on the edge of it was Nireeungo's
head with its two long plaits of jet-black hair hanging
down, and dripping an ensanguined stream upon the
matted floor.

Clausen cleared out of Samoa the very next day.
Te-bari had got upon his nerves.

The forest was dark by the time I had lit a Are

«97

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

between two of the wide buttresses of the great tree,
and I was shaking from head to foot with ague. The
attack, however, only lasted an hour, and then came the
usual delicious after-glow of warmth as the blood be-
gan to course riotously through one's veins and g^ve
that temporary and fictitious strength accompanied
by hunger, that is one of the features of malarial
fever.

Sitting up, I began to pluck the mountain cock, in-
tending to grill the chest part as soon as the fire was
fit. Then I heard a footstep on the leaves, and looking
up I saw Te-bari standing before me.

" Ti'd ka po " (good evening), I said quietly, in his
own language, " will you eat with me ? "

He came over to me, still grasping his rifle, and
peered into my face. Then he put out his hand, and
sat down quietly in front of me. Except for a girdle of
dracasna leaves around his waist he was naked, but he
seemed well-nourished, and, in fact, fat

" Will you smoke ? " I said presently, passing him a
plug of tobacco and my sheath knife, for I saw that a
wooden pipe was stuck in his girdle of leaves. He
accepted it eagerly.

" Do you know me, white man ? " he asked abruptly,
speaking in the Line Islands tongue.

I nodded. " You are Te-bari of Maiana. The boy
was frightened of you and ran away."

He showed his gleaming white teeth in a semi-mirth-
ful, semi-tigerish grin. ** Yes, he was afraid. I would
have shot him ; but I did not because he was with you.
What is your name, white man ? "

198

TE-BARI, THE OUTLAW

I told him.

" Ah, I have heard of yon You were with Kapitan
Ebba (Captain Ever) in the Leota!^

He filled his pipe, lit it, and then extended his hand
to me for the half -plucked bird, and said he would finish
it Then he looked at me inquiringly.

"You have the shaking sickness of the western is-
lands. It is not good for you to lie here on the leaves.
Come with me. I shall give you good food to eat, and
coco-nut toddy to drink."

I asked him where he got his toddy from, as there
were no coco-nut trees growing so high up in the moun-
tains. He laughed.

" I have a sweetheart in Siumu. She brings it to
me. You shall see her to-night. Come."

Stooping down, he lifted me up on his right shoulder
as if I were a child, and then, with his own rifle and my
gun and bag and the mountain cock tucked under his
left arm, he set off at a rapid pace towards one of the
higher spurs of the range. Nearly an hour later I
found myself in a cave, overlooking the sea. On the
floor were a number of fine Samoan mats and a well-
carved aluga (bamboo pillow).

I stretched myself out upon the mats, again shivering
with ague, and Te-bari covered me over with a thick
lappa cloth. Then he lit a fire just outside the cave,
and came back to me.

" You are hungry," he said, as he expanded his big
mouth and grinned pleasantly. Then from the roof of
the cave he took down a basket containing cold baked
pigeons, fish and yam&

199

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

I ate greedily and soon after fell asleep. When I
awoke it seemed to be daylight — in reality it was only
a little past midnight, but a full bright moon was shin-
ing into the cave. Seated near me were my host and
a young woman — the "sweetheart". I recognised her
at once as Sa Laea, the widow of a man killed in the
fighting a few months prevously. She was about five
and twenty years of age, very handsome, and quiet in
her demeanour. As far as I knew she had an excellent
reputation, and I was astonished at her consorting with
an outlawed murderer. She came over and shook
hands, asked if I felt better, and should she "lomi-
lomi " (massage) me. I thanked her and gladly ac-
cepted her offer.

An hour before dawn she bade me good-bye, urging
me to remain, and rest with her earless lover for a day
or two, instead of coming on to Siumu, where there was
an outbreak of measles

" When I come to-morrow night," she said, " I will
bring a piece of kava root and make kava for you."

The news about the measles decided me. I resolved
to at least spend another day and night with my host
He was pleased

Soon after breakfast he showed me around. His re-
treat was practically impr^nable. One man with a
supply of breech-loading ammunition could beat off a
hundred foes. On the roof of the cave was a hole large
enough to let a man pass through, and from the top it-
self there was a most glorious view. A mile away on
the starboard hand, and showing through the forest
green, was a curving streak of bright red — it was the road,

200

TE-BARI, THE OUTLAW

or rather track, that led to Siumu. We filled our pipes,
sat down and talked.

How long had he lived there ? I asked. Five months.
He had found the cave one day when in chase of a wild
sow and her litter. Afraid of being shot by the Siumu
people ? No, he was on good terms with them. Very
often he would shoot a wild pig and carry it to a certain
spot on the road, and leave it for the villagers. But he
could not go into the village itself. It was too risky —
some one might be tempted to get those hundred Chile
dollars from the Germans. Food ? There was plenty.
Hundreds of wild pigs in the mountains, and thousands
of pigeons. The pigs he shot with his Snider, the
pigeons he snared, for he had no shot gun, and would
very much like to have one. Twice every week Sa Laea
brought him food. Tobacco too, sometimes, when she
could buy it or beg it from the trader at Siuma Some-
times he would cross over to the northern watershed and
catch a basketful of the big speckled trout which teem
in the mountain pools. Some of these he would send by
Sa Laea to the chief of Siumu, who would send him in
return a piece of kava, and some young drinking coco-
nuts as a token of good-will. Once when he went to
fish he found a young Samoan and two girls about to
net a pool. The man fired at him with his pigeon g^un
and the pellets struck him in the chest. Then he (Te-
bari) shot the man through the chest with his Winchester.
No, he did not harm the girls — he let them run away.

Sa Laea was a very good girl. Whenever he trapped
a manu-mea (the rare DidunculuSy or tooth-billed
pigeon) she would take it to Apia and sell it for five

20I

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

dollars — sometimes ten. He was saving this money.
When he had forty dollars he and Sa Laea were going
to leave Samoa and go to Maiana. Kapitan Cameron
had promised Sa Laea to take them there when they
had forty dollars. Perhaps when his schooner next
came to Siumu they would have enough money, etc

During the day I shot a number of pigeons, and when
Sa Laea appeared soon after sunset we had them cooked
and ready. We made a delicious meal, but before eating
the lady offered up the usual evening prayer in Samoan,
and Te-bari the Earless sat with closed eyes like a
saint, and gave forth a sonorous A-mene I when his lady-
love ceased.

I left my outlaw friend next morning. Sa Laea came
with me, for I had promised to buy him a pigeon gun
(costing ten dollars), a bag of shot, powder and caps. I
fulfilled my promise and the woman bade me farewell
with protestations of gratitude.

A few months later Te-bari and Sa Laea left the
island in Captain Cameron's schooner, the Manahiki,
I trust they " lived happily ever afterwards ".

202

CHAPTER XX

" THE DANDIEST BOY THAT EVER STOOD UP IN A

BOAT "

Nine years had come and gone since I had last seen
Nukutavake and its amiable brown^kinned people, and
now as I again stepped on shore and scanned the faces
of those assembled on the beach to meet me, I missed
many that I had loved in the old, bright days when I
was trading in the Paumotus. For Death, in the hide-
ous shape of small-pox, had been busy, taking the young
and strong and passing by the old and feeble.

It was a Sunday, and the little isle was quiet — as quiet
as the ocean of shining silver on which our schooner lay
becalmed, eight miles beyond th^ foaming surf of the
I barrier reef.

Teveiva, the old native pastor, was the first one to
greet me, and the tears rolled down his cheeks as he
spoke to me in his native Tahitian, bade me welcome,
and asked me had I come to sojourn with " we of Nuku-
tavake, for a little while ".

** Would that it were so, old friend. But I have only
come on shore for a few hours, whilst the ship is be-
calmed — to greet old friends dear to my heart, and never

2K>3

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

forgotten since the days I lived among ye, nigh upon a
half-score years ago. But, alas, it grieves me that many
are gone."

A low sob came from the people, as they pressed
around their friend of bygone years, some clasping my
hands and some pressing their faces to mine And so,
hand in hand, and followed by the people, the old teacher
and I walked slowly along the shady path of drooping
palms, and came to and entered the quiet mission house,
through the open windows of which came the sigh of the
surf, and the faint call of sea-birds.

Some women, low-voiced and gentle, brought food,
and young drinking nuts upon platters of leaf, and
silently placed them before the White Man, who touched
the food with his hand and drank a little of a coco-nut,
and then tumed to Teveiva and said : —

" O friend, I cannot eat because of the sorrow that
hath come upon thee. Tell me how it befel."

Speaking slowly, and with many tears, the old teacher
told of how a ship from Tahiti had brought the dread
disease to the island, and how in a little less than two
months one in every three of the three hundred and ten
people had died, and of the long drought that followed
upon the sickness, when for a whole year the sky was
as brass, and the hot sun beat down upon the land, and
withered up the coco-palms and pandanus trees; and
only for the night dews all that was green would have
perished. And now because of the long drought men
were weak, and sickening, and women and children were
faint from want of food.

'* It is as if God hath deserted us," said the old man.

204

THE DANDIEST BOY

" Nay," I assured him, " have no fear. Rain is near.
It will come from the westward as it has come to many
islands which for a year have been eaten up with drought
and hunger like this land of Nukutavake. Have no
fear, I say. Wind and much heavy rain will soon come
from the west."

Then I wrote a few lines to the skipper.

" Send this letter to the ship by my boat," I said to
Teveiva, " and the captain will fill the boat with food.
It is the ship's gift to the people."

And then for the first time since the island had been
smitten, the poor women and children laughed joyously,
and the men sprang to their feet, and with loud shouts
ran to the boat with the messenger who carried the
letter.

" Come, old friend," I said to the teacher, " walk with
me round the island. I would once more look upon the
lagoon and sit with you a little while as we have sat
many times before, under the great toa tree that grows
upon the point on the weather side."

And so we two passed out of the mission house, and
hand in hand, like children, went into the quiet village
and along the sandy path that wound through the
vista of serried, grey-boled palms, till we came to the
white, inner beach of the calm lagoon, which shone and
glistened like burnished silver. On the beach were
some canoes.

Half a cable length from the shore, a tiny, palm-
dad islet floated on that shining lake, and the drooping
fronds of the palms cast their shadows upon the cry-
stal water. Between the red- brown boles of the trees

205

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

there showed something white. The old man pointed
to it and said : —

"Wilt come and look at the white man's grave?
'Tis well kept — as we promised his mother should be
done."

Teveiva launched a canoe and we paddled gently
over to the isle, which was barely half an acre in extent
From the beach there ran a narrow path, neatly grav-
elled and bordered with many-hued crotons ; it led to
a low square enclosure of coral stone cemented with
lime Within the walls bright crotons grew thickly,
and in the centre stood a plain slab of marble on which
was carved : —

Walter Tallis,

boat-steerer of the ship asia.

Died, December 25, 1869, aged 21.

Erected by his Mother.

I sat on the wall, and looked thoughtfully at the
marble slab.

" Tis twelve years since, Teveiva."

" Aye, since last Christmas Day. And every year
his mother sends a letter and asks, * Is my boy's grave
well kept ? ' and I write and say, * It is well tended.
One day in every week the women and girls come and
weed the path, and see that the plants thrive. This
have we always done since thou sent the marble slab.'
She sends her letters to the English missionary at
Papeite, and he sends mine to her in far away Beretania
(Britain)."

** Poor fellow," I thought ; '* it was just such a day

206

THE DANDIEST BOY

as this — ^hot and calm — when we laid him here under
the palms/*

On that day, twelve years before, the Asia lay be-
calmed oflf the island, and the skipper lowered his boat
and came on shore to buy some fresh provisions He
was a cheery old fellow, with snow-white hair, and was
brimming over with good spirits, for the Asia had had
extraordinary good luck.

" Over a thousand barrels of sparm oil under hatches
already, and the Asia not out nine months," he said
to me, " and we haven't lost a boat, nor any whale we
fastened to yet And this boy here," and he turned
and clapped his hand on the shoulder of a young,
handsome and stalwart youth, who had come with him,
" is my boat-steerer, Walter Tallis, and the dandiest lad
with an iron that ever stood up in a boat's bow.
Forty-two years have I been fishin*, and until Walter
here shipped on the old Asia^ thought that the Al-
mighty never made a good boat-steerer or boat-header
outer eny one but a Yankee or a Portugee — or maybe
a Walker Injun. But Walter, though he is a Britisher,
was bom fer whale-killin' — and thet's a fact"

I shook hands with the young man, who laughed
as he said : —

"Captain Allen is always buttering me up. But
there are as good, and better men than me with an
iron on board the Asia, But I certainly have had
wonderful luck — for a Britisher," and he smiled slyly
at his captain.

Suddenly, we were chatting and smoking on the

207

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

verandah, there came a thrilh'ng cry from the crew of
the whaleboat, lying on the beach fifty yards away.

And from the throats of three hundred natives came
a roar " Tefolau I Ufolau I " (" A whale ! a whale I ">

The skipper and his boat-steerer sprang to their feet
and looked seaward, and there, less than a mile from
the shore, was a mighty bull cachalot, leisurely making
his way through the glassy sea, swimming with head
up, and lazily rolling from side to side as if his one
hundred tons of bulk were as light as the weight of a
flying-fish.

** Now, mister, you shall see what Walter and I can
do with that fish," cried the skipper to me. "And
when we've settled him, and the other boats are towing
him off to the ship, Walter and I will come on shore
again and hev something to eat — if you will invite ua"

The boat flashed out from the beach, swept out of
the passage through the reef, and in twenty minutes
was within striking distance of the mighty cetacean.
And, watching from the verandah, I saw the young
harpooner stand up and bury his first harpoon to the
socket, following it instantly with a second. Then
slowly sank the huge head, and up came the vast flukes
in the air, and Leviathan sounded into the ocean
depths as the line spun through the stem notch, and
the boat sped over the mirror-like sea In ten minutes
she was hidden from view by a point of land, and the
last that we on the shore saw was ''the dandiest lad
that ever stood up in a boat's bow " going aft to the
steer-oar, and the old white-headed skipper taking his

ao8

mmmmt^

THE DANDIEST BOY

place to use the deadly lance. And then at the same
time that the captain's boat disappeared from view,
I noticed that the Asia had lowered her four other
boats, which were pulling with furious speed in the
direction which the "fast" boat had taken.

''Something must have gone wrong with the cap-
tain's boat," I thought.

Something had gone wrong, for half an hour later
one of the four " loose" boats pulled into the beach, and
the old skipper, with tears streaming down his rugged
cheeks, stepped out, trembling from head to foot.

"My dandy boy, my poor boatsteerer," he said
huskily to me — "that darned whale fluked us, and
near cut him in half. Poor lad, he didn't suffer ; for
death came sudden. An' . he is the only son of his
mother. Can I bring him to your house?"

Very tenderly and slowly the whaleboat's crew car-
ried the crushed and mutilated form of the *' dandiest
boy" to the house, and whilst I helped the Asia's cooper
make a coffin, Teveiva sat outside with the heart-
broken old skipper, and spoke to him in his broken
English of the Life Beyond. And so Walter Tallis,
the last of an old Dorset family, was laid to rest in the
little isle in the quiet lagoon.

For two days our schooner lay in sight of the island ;
and then, as midnight came, the blue sky became black,
and the ship was snugged down for the coming storm.
The skipper sent up a rocket so that it might be seen
by the people on shore — to verify my prophecy about
a change in the weather.

209 14

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

Came then the wind and the sweet, blessed rain, and
as the schooner, under reefed canvas, plunged to the
rising sea, the folk of Nukutavake, I felt certain, stood
outside their houses, and let the cooling Heaven-sent
streams drench their smooth, copper-coloured skins,
whilst good old Teveiva gave thanks to God

2ZO

CHAPTER XXI

THE PIT OF MAOTA

For the Samoans I have always had a great admiration
and affection. Pracffcally I began my island career in
Samoa. More than a score of years before Robert
Louis Stevenson went to die on the verdured slopes of
Vailima Mountain, where he now rests, I was gaining
my living by running a small trading cutter between
the beautiful islands of Upolu, Savai'i, and Tutuila, and
the people ever had my strong sympathies in their
struggle against Germany for independence. Even so
far back as 1865, German agents were at work through-
out the group, sowing the seeds of discord, encouraging
the chiefs of King Malietoa to rebel, so that they could
set up a German puppet in his place. And unfortu-
nately they have succeeded only too well, and Samoa,
with the exception of the Island of Tutuila, is now
German territory. But it is as well, for the people are
kindly treated by their new masters.

The Samoans were always a warlike race. When
not unitedly repelling invasion by the all-conquering
Tongans who sent fleet after fleet to subjugate the
country, they were warring among themselves upon
various pretexts — successions to chiefly titles, land

21 z

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

disputes, abuse of neutral territory, and often upon the
most trivial pretexts. In my own time I witnessed a
sanguinary naval encounter between the people of the
island of Manono, and a war-party of ten great canoes
from the district of Lepa on the island of Upolu. I
saw sixteen decapitated heads brought on shore, and
personally attended many of the wounded. ^ And all
this occurred through the Lepa people having at a
dance in their village sung a song in which a satirical
allusion was made to the Manono people having once
been reduced to eating shell-fish. The result was an
immediate challenge from Manono, and in all nearly
one hundred men lost their lives, villages were burnt,
canoes destroyed, and thousands of coco-nut and
bread-fruit trees cut down and plantations ruined.

Sometimes in battle the Samoans were extremely
chivalrous, at others they were demons incarnate, as
merciless, cold-blooded, and cruel as the Russian police
who slaughter women and children in the streets of
the capital of the Great White Czar, and I shall now
endeavour to describe one such terrible act, which after
many years is still spoken of with bated breath, and
even amidst the suppressed sobs and falling tears of
the descendants of those who suffered.

On the north coast of Upolu there is a populous
town and district named Fasito'otai. It is part of the
A'ana division of Upolu, and is noted, even in Samoa,
a paradise of Nature, for its extraordinary fertility and
beauty.

The A'ana people at this time were suffering from
the tyranny of Manono, a small island which boasted of

2X2

THE PIT OF MAOTA

the fact of its being the birthplace and home of nearly
all the ruling chiefs of Samoa, and the extraordinary
respect with which people of chiefly lineage are treated
by Samoans, generally led them to suffer the greatest
indignities and oppressions by the haughty and war-
like Manonoans, who exacted under threats a continu-
ous tribute of food, fine mats and canoes. Finally, a
valorous young chief named Tausaga — ^though himself
connected with Manono — revolted, and he and his
people refused to pay further tribute to Manono, and a
bloody struggle was entered upon.

For some months the war continued. No mercy was
shown on either side to the vanquished, and there is
now a song which tells of how Palu, a girl of seventeen,
with a spear thrust half through her bosom by her
brother-in-law, a chief of Manono, shot him through
the chest with a horse pistol, and then breaking off" the
spear, knelt beside the dying man, kissed him as her
** brother" and then decapitated him, threw the head to
her people with a cry of triumph — and died

At first the A'ana people were victorious, and the
haughty Manonoans were driven off* into their fleets of
war canoes time and time again. Then Manono made
alliance with other powerful chiefs of Savai'i and Upolu
against A'ana, and two thousand of them, after great
slaughter, occupied the town of Fasito'otai, and the
A'ana people retired to inland fortresses, resolved to
fight to the very last Among the leaders of the de-
feated people were two white men — an Englishman
and an American — whose valour was so much admired,
even by the Manono people, that they were openly

az3

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

solidted to desert the A'ana people, and come over to
the other side, where great honours and gifts of lands
awaited them. To their credit, these two unknown
men rejected the offer with scorn, and announced their
intention to die with the people with whom they had
lived for so many years. At their instance, many of
the Manono warriors who had been captured had been
spared, and kept prisoners, instead of being ruthlessly
decapitated in the usual Samoan fashion, and their
heads exhibited, with much ignominy, from one village
to another, as trophies.

For two years the struggle continued, the Manonoans
generally proving victorious in many bloody battles.
Then Fasito'otai was surprised in the night, and two-
thirds of its defenders, including many women and
children, slaughtered. Among those who flied were
the two white men. They fell with thirty young men,
who covered the retreat of the survivors of the defend-
ing force.

The extraordinary valour which the A*ana people
had displayed, exasperated the Manono warriors to
deeds of unnamable violence to whatever prisoners
fell into their cruel hands. One man — an old Manono
chief — ^who had taken part in the struggle, told me with
shame that he saw babies impaled on bayonets and
spears carried exultingly from one village to another.

Broken and disorganised, the beaten Aana people
dispersed in parties large and small. Some sought
refuge in the mountain forests, others put to sea in frail
canoes, and mostly all perished, but one party of seven-
teen in three canoes succeeded in reaching Uea (Wallis

214

THE PIT OF MAOTA

Island), three hundred miles to the westward of Samoa
Among them was a boy of seven years of age, who
afterwards sailed with me in a labour vessel. He well
remembered the horrors of that awful voyage, and told
me of his seeing his father " take a knife and open a
vein in his arm sb that a baby girl, who was dying of
hunger, could drink ".

Re'entless in their hate of the vanquished foe, the
Manono warriors established a cordon around them from
the mountain range that traverses the centre of Upolu
to the sea, and at last, after many engagements, drove
them to the beach, where a final battle was fought.
Exhausted, famine-stricken, and utterly disheartened
by their continuous reverses, the unfortumte A'ana
people were easily overcome, and the fighting survivors
surrendered, appealing to their enemies to at least
spare the lives of their women and children.

But no mercy was shown. As night began to fall,
the Manonoans began to dig a huge pit at a village
named Maota, a mile from the scene of the battle, and
as some dug, others carried an enormous quantity of
dead logs of timber to the spot. By midnight the
dreadful funeral pyre was completed.

In case that it might be thought by my readers that
I am exaggerating the horrors of ** The Pit of Maota,"
I will not here relate what I, personally, was told by
people who were present at the awful deed, but repeat
the words of Mr. Stair, an English missionary of the
London Missionary Society, whose book, entitled 0/d
Samoay tells the story in quiet, yet dramatic language,
and although in regard to some minor details he was

215

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

misinformed, his account on the whole is correct, and
is the same as was told to me by men who had actually
participated in the tragedy.

The awful preparations were completed, and then
the victors, seizing those of their captives who were
bound on account of their strength and had a few hours
previously surrendered, hurried them to the fatal pit, in
which the huge pile of timber had been lit. And as
the flames roared and ascended, and the darkness of
the surrounding forest was made as light as day, the
first ten victims of four hundred and sixty-two were
cast in to bum, amid the howls and yells of their savage
captors.

Mr. Stair says: "This dreadful butchery was con-
tinued during one or two days and nights, fresh timber
being heaped on from time to time, as it was with diffi-
culty that the fire could be kept burning, from the
number of victims who were ruthlessly sacrificed there.

** The captives from Fasito*otai were selected for the
first offerings, and after them followed others in quick
succession, night and day, early and late, until the last
wretched victim had been consumed. Most heart-
rending were the descriptions I received from persons
who had actually looked on the fearful scenes enacted
there.

" Innocent children skipped joyfully along the path-
way by the side of their conductors and murderers,^
deceived by the cruel lie that they were to be spared,
and were then on their way to bathe ; when suddenly

^I was told that the poor children were led away as they thought to
be given si nua ai vela — *' something hot " (to eat). — [L.B.]

2X6

THE PIT OF MAOTA

the blazing pile (in the Pit of Noata) with the horrid
sight of their companions and friends being thrown
alive into the midst, told them the dreadful truth ;
whilst their terror was increased by the yells of savage
triumph of the murderers, or the fearful cries of the
tortured victims which reached their ears."

When I first saw the dreadful Tito (pit) of Moata, it
was at the close of a calm, windless day. I had been
pigeon-shooting in the mountain forest, and was accom-
panied by a stalwart young Samoan warrior. As we
were returning to Fasito'otai, he asked me if I would
come a little out of the way and look at the " Tito," a
place he said '* that is to our hearts, and is, holy
ground". He spoke so reverently that I was much
impressed.

Following a winding path we suddenly came in view
of the pit The sides were almost covered with many
beautiful varieties of crotons, planted there by loving
hands, and it was very evident to me that the place
was indeed holy ground. At the bottom of the pit
was a dreadful reminder of the past — a large circle of
black charcoal running round the sides, and enclosing
in the centre a large space which at first I thought was
snow-white sand, but on descending into the pit with
uncovered head, and looking closer, found it was com-
posed of tiny white coral pebbles. Hardly a single leaf
or twig marred the purity of the whiteness of the cover
under which lay the ashes of nearly five hundred
human beings. Every Saturday the women and chil-
dren of Fasito'otai and the adjacent villages visited
the place, and reverently removed every bit of dibrisy

3X7

-»!

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

and the layer of stones, carefully selected of an equal
size, was renewed two or three times a year as they be-
came discoloured by the action of the rain. Encom-
passing the wooded margin of the pit were numbers of
orange, lime and banana trees, all in full fruit. These
were never touched — to do so would have been sacri-
lege, for they were sacred to the dead. All around us
were hundreds of wood-doves and pigeons, and their
peaceful notes filled the forest with saddening melody.
" No one ever fires a gun here," said my companion
softly, " it is forbidden. And it is to my mind that the
birds know that it is a sacred place and holy ground."

ai8

CHAPTER XXII

VANAKI. THE STRONG SWIMMER

On the afternoon of the 4th of June, 1885, the Hawaiian
labour schooner Mana, of which I was " recruiter/* was
beating through Apoh'ma Straits, which divide the is-
lands of Upolu and Savai'i. The south-east trade was
blowing very strongly and a three-knot current setting
against the wind had raised a short, confused sea, and
our decks were continually flooded. But we had to
thrash through it with all the sail we could possibly carry,
for among the sixty-two Gilbert Islands ** recruits " I
had on board three had developed symptoms of what
we feared was small-pox, and we were anxious to reach
the anchorage off the town of Mulifanua at the west end
of Upolu before dark. At Mulifanua there was a largo.
Grerman cotton plantation, employing four hundred " re-
cruited " labourers, and on the staff of European em-
ployes was a resident doctor. In the ordinary course
of things we should have gone on to Apia, which was
twenty miles farther on, and our port of destination,
and handed over my cargo of " recruits " to the manager
of the German firm there : but as Mulifanua Plantation
was also owned by them, and my "recruits" would

219

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

probably be sent there eventually, the captain and I de-
cided to land the entire lot at that place, instead of tak-
ing them to Apia, where the European community would
be very rough upon us if the disease on board did turn
out to be small-pox.

As the skipper and I were standing aft, watching the
showers of spray that flew over the schooner every time
a head sea smacked her in the face, one of the hands
shouted out that there was a man in the water, close to
on the weather bow. Hauling our head sheets to wind-
ward we head-reached towards him, and in a few minutes
the man, who was swimming in the most gallant fashion,
was alongside, and clambered on board. He was a
rather dark-skinned Polynesian, young, and of extremely
powerful physique.

" Thanks, good friends," he said, speaking in halting
Samoan. "Tis a high sea in which to swim. Yet,"
and here he glanced aroimd him at the land on both
sides, " I was half-way across."

" Come below," I said, " and take food and drink, and
I will give you a lava-lava (waistcloth)." (He was nude.)

He thanked me, and then again his keen dark eyes
were fixed upon Savai'i — three miles distant

" Art bound to Savai'i ? " he asked quickly.

"Nay. We beat against the wind. To-night we
anchor at Mulifanua."

** Ah 1 '* and his face changed, " then I must leave,
for it is to Savai*i I go," and he was about to go over
the rail when we held him back.

*' Wait, friend. In a little time the ship will be close
in to the passage through the reef at Saleleloga " (a town

220

VANAKI, THE STRONG SWIMMER

of Savafi), and then as we put the ship about, thou canst
go on thy way. Why swim two leagues and tempt the
sharks when there is no need. Come below and eat and
drink, and have no fear. We shall take thee as near to
the passage as we caa"

The skipper came below with us, and after providing
our visitor with a navy blue waistcloth, we gave him a
stiff tumbler of rum, and some bread and meat. He
ate quickly and then asked for a smoke, and in a few
minutes more we asked him who he was, and why he
was swimming across the straits. We spoke in Samoan.
** Friends," he said, " I will tell the truth. I am one of
the kau galuega (labourers) on Mulifanua Plantation.
Yesterday being the Sabbath, and there being no work,
I went into the lands of the Samoan village to steal
young nuts and taro, I had thrown down and husked
a score, and was creeping back to my quarters by a side
path through the grove, when I was set upon by three
young Samoan manata (bloods) who began beating me
with clubs — seeking to murder me. We fought, and I,
knowing that death was upon me, killed one man with
a blow of my tori nui^ (husking stick) of iron-wood, and
then drove it deep into the chest of another. Then I
fled, and gaining the beach, ran into the sea so that I
might swim to Savai'i, for there will I be safe from pur-
suit"
"'Tis a long swim, man — 'tis five leagues."
He laughed and expanded his brawny chest
" What is that to me ? I have swam ten leagues many
times."

^ A heavy, pointed stick of hardwood, used for husking co€o>nuts.

a2X

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

** Where do you belong ? " asked the skipper in Eng-
lish.

He answered partly in the same language and partly
in his curious Samoan.

" I am of Anuda.^ My name is Vanaki. Two years
ago I came to Samoa in a German labour ship to work
on the plantations, for I wanted to see other places, and
earn money, and then return to Anuda and speak of the
things I had seen. It was a foolish thing of me. The
German suis (overseers) are harsh men. I worked very
hard on little food. It was for that I had to steal And
I am but one man from Anuda, and there are four
hundred others from many islands — black-skinned, man-
eating, woolly-haired pigs from the Solomon and New
Hebrides, and fierce fellows like these Tafito * men from
the Gilbert Islands such as I now see here on this ship.
No one of them can speak my tongue of Anuda. And
now I am a free man.''

" You are a plucky fellow," said the captain, " and de-
serve good luck. Here, take this dollar, and tie it up in
the comer of your waistcloth. You can buy yourself
some tobacco from the white trader at Salelelc^o,"

" Ah, yes, indeed. But '* (and here he dropped into
Samoan again, and turned to me) *' I would that the
good captain would take me as a sailor for his next
voyage. I was for five years with Captain Macleod of
Noumea. And I am a good man — honest, and no
boaster."

^ Anuda or Cherry Island is an outlier of the Santa Cruz Group, in
the South Pacific. The natives are more of the Polynesian than the
Melanesian type, and are a fine, stalwart race.

' Tafitos — natives of the Pacific Equatorial Islands such as the Gil-
bert Group.

222

VANAKI, THE STRONG SWIMMER

I shook my head. *' It cannot be. From Mulifanua
we go to Apia. And there will be news there of what
thou hast done yesterday, and we cannot hide a man on
this small ship." And then I asked the captain what
he thought of the request

'*We ought to try and work it," said the skipper.
" If he was five years with Jock Macleod he's all right"

We questioned him further, and he satisfied us as to
his bona-fides^ giving us the names of many men — cap-
tains and traders — known to us intimately.

"Vanaki," I said, "this is what may be done, but
you must be quick, for presently we shall be close to the
passage off Saleleloga, and must go about When you
land, go to Miti-loa the chief, and talk to him privately.
There is bad blood between his people and those of
Mulifanua "

" I know it It has been so for two years past"

" Now, listen. Miti-loa and the captain here and I
are good friends. Tell him that you have seen us.
Hide nothing from him of yesterday. He is a strong
maa"

*' I know it Who does not, in this part of Samoa
know of Miti-loa ? " ^

"That is true. And Miti knows us two papalagi^
well Stay with him, work for him, and do all that he
may ask. He will ask but little — perhaps nothing. In
twenty days from now, this ship will be at Apia ready
for sea again. We go to the Tokelaus " (Gilbert Islands)

» Miti-loa—" Long Dream ".
* White men— foreigners.

223

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

'* or else to the Solomons, and if thou comest on board
in the night who is to know of it but Miti*loa and thy-
self?"

The mate put his head under the flap of the skylight
" Close on to the reef, sir. Time to go about"

" All right, Carey. Put her round Now Vanaki, up
on deck, and over you go."

Vanaki nodded and smiled, and followed us. Then
quickly he took oflf his lava-lava^ deftly wrapped it
about his head like an Indian turban, and held out his
hand in farewell, and every one on board cheered as he
leapt over the side, and b^an his swim to the land.
From the cross-trees I watched him through my glasses,
saw him enter the passage into smooth water, and dis-
daining to rest on any of the exposed and isolated pro-
jections of reef which lined the passage, continue his
course towards the village. Then a rain squall hid him
from view, but we knew that he was safe.

That evening we landed our " recruits " at Mulifanua,
and after thoroughly disinfecting the ship, we sailed a
few days later for Apia. Here we were again chartered
to proceed to the New Hebrides and Solomon Islands
for another cruise.

As we were refitting, I received a letter from Miti-
loa, telling me that Vanaki was safe, and would be with
us in a few days. When he did arrive, he came with
Miti-loa himself in his taumalua (native boat) and a
score of his people. Vanaki was so well made-up as a
Samoan that when he stepped on deck the skipper and
I did not recognise him. We sent him below, and told
him to keep quiet until we were well under way.

224

VANAKI, THE STRONG SWIMMER

" Ah," said Miti-loa to us, " what a man is he ! Such
a swimmer was never before seen. My young men
have made much of him, and I would he would stay
with me."

Vanaki turned out an acquisition to our ship's com-
pany, and soon became a ^vourite with every one. He
was highly delighted when he was placed on the articles
at the usual rate of wages paid to native seamen — £3
per month. Our crew were natives from all parts of
Polynesia, but English was the language used by them
generally to each other. Like all vessels in the labour
trade we carried a double crew — one to man the boats
when recruiting, and one to work the ship when lying
" off and on " at any island where we could not anchor,
and Vanaki was greatly pleased when I told him that
he should have a place in my boat, instead of being put
in the " covering " ^ boat

We made a splendid run down to the Solomons from
Samoa, and when in sight of San Cristoval, spoke a
French labour vessel from Noumea, recruiting for the
French New Hebrides Company. Her captain and his
" recruiter " (both Englishmen) paid us a visit. They
were old acquaintances of our captain and myself, and
as they came alongside in their smart whaleboat and
Vanaki saw their faces, he gave a weird yell of delight,
and rubbed noses with them the moment they stepped
on deck.

"Hallo, Vanaki, my lad," said the skipper of La

^ The " covering " boat is that which stands by to open fire if the
" landing " boat is attacked.

225 15

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

Metise, shaking his hand, " how are you ? " Then turn-
ing to us he said : " Vanaki was with me when I was
mate with Captain Macleod, in the old Aurore of
Noum&i. He's a rattling good fellow for a native, and
I wish I had him with me now. Wherever did you
pick him up ? "

We told him, and Houston laughed when I narrated
the story of Vanaki's swim.

" Oh, that's nothing for him to do. Why, the beggar
once swam from the Banks Group across to the Torres
Islands. Has he never told you about it ? "

"No, And I would hardly believe him if he did.
Why, the two groups are fifty miles apart."

" No, from Tog in the Torres Islands to Ureparapara
in the Banks Group is a little over forty miles. But
you must wheedle the yam out of him. He's a bit sen-
sitive of talking about it, on account of his at first being
told he was a liar by several people. But Macleod, two
traders who were passengers with us, and all the crew
of the Aurore know the story to be true. We sent an
account of it to the Sydney papera"

" I'll get him to tell me some day," I said ** I once
heard of a native woman swimming from Nanomaga
in the EUice Group to Nanomea — thirty-five miles —
but never believed it for a long time."

After spending half an hour with us, our friends went
back to their ship, each having shaken hands warmly
with Vanaki, and wished him good luck.

It was some days before the captain and I had time
to hear Vanaki's story, which I relate as nearly as pos-
sible in his own words.

226

VANAKI, THE STRONG SWIMMER

First of all, however, I must mention that Urepara-
para or Bligh Island is a well-wooded, fertile spot,
about sixteen miles in circumference, and is an extinct
crater. It is now the seat of a successful mission. Tog
is much smaller, well-wooded, and inhabited, and about
nine hundred feet high. At certain times of the year a
strong current sets in a northerly and westerly direction,
and it is due to this fact that Vanaki accomplished his
swim. Now for his story,

• •••••••«

" I was in the port watch of the Aurore, We came
to Ureparapara in the month of June to ' recruit ' and
got four men. Whilst we were there. Captain Houston
(who was then mate of the Aurore) asked me if I would
dive under the ship and look at her copper ; for a week
before we had touched a reef. So I dived, and found
that five sheets of copper were gone from the port side
about half a fathom from the keeL So the captain
took five new sheets of copper, and punched the nail
holes, and gave me one sheet at a time, and I nailed
them on securely. In three hours it was done, ftw" the
ship was in quiet, clear water, and I knew what to do.
The captain then said to me laughingly that he feared
I had but tacked on the sheets loosely, and that they
would come off. My heart was sore at this, and so I
asked Mr. Houston, who is a good diver, to go and look.
And he dived and looked, and then five other of the
crew — ^natives — dived and looked, and they all said
that the work was well and truly done — all the nails
driven home, and the sheets smooth, and without a
crinkle. This pleased the captain greatly, and he gave

237

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

me a small gold piece, and told me that I could go on
shore, and spend it at the white trader's store.

"Now I did a foolish thit^, I bought from the
trader two bottles of strange gn^ called arrak. It
was very strong — stroi^r than rum — and soon I and
two others who drank it became very drunk, and lay
on the ground like pigs. Mr. Houston came and found
me, and broi^ht mc on board, and I was laid on the
after-deck under the awning.

" At sunset the ship sailed. I was still asleep, and
heard nothing, though in a little while it began to
blow, and much rain fell. The captain let me lie on
the lee side, so that the rain mig^t beat upon me, and
bring me to life again.

" When four bells struck I a
Waiting until the wheel was rel
deck unseen, for it was very d
top of the top-gallant fo'c'stle
The ship was running before i
reefed sails, and the sea was so
heavily every now and then, i
over the iaows. This did me g
to feel able to go below and
Then presently, as I was about
a great plunge, and a mighty

I was swept away. No one s :

knew that I was there, and th<
dark.

"When I came to the surfao
lights, and cried out, but no one heard me, for the wind
and sea made a great noise ; and then, too, there was

VANAKI, THE STRONG SWIMMER

sweeping raia In a little while the lights were gone,
and I was alone.

" * Now/ I said to myself, * Vanaki, thou art a fool,
and will go into the belly of a shark because of becom-
ing drunk.' And then my heart came back to me, and
I swam on easily over the sea, hoping that I would be
missed, and the ship heave-to, and send a boat. But
I looked in vain.

** By-and-by the sky cleared, and the stars came out,
but the wind still blew fiercely, and the seas swept me
along so quickly that I knew it would be folly for me to
try and face them, and try to swim back to Ureparapara.

" * I will swim to Tog,' I said ; * if the sharks spare me
I can do it.' For now that the sky was clear, and I
could see the stars my fear died away ; and so I turned
a little, and swam to the west a little by the north.

" There was a strong current with me, and hour by
hour as I swam the wind became less, and the sea died
away.

" When daylight came I was not tired, and rested on
my back. And as I rested, two green turtle rose near
me. They looked at me, and I was glad, for I knew
that where turtle were there would be no sharks. I
am not afraid of sharks, but what is a man to do with
a shark in the open sea without a knife ?

** Towards noon there came raia I lay on my back
and put my hollowed hands together, and caught
enough to satisfy my great thirst. The rain did not
last long.

"A little after noon I saw the land — the island of
Tog. It was but three leagues away,

aag

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

" Then I swam into a great and swift tide-rip, which
carried me to the eastward. It was so strong that I
feared it would take me away from the island, but
soon it turned and swept me to the westward. And
then I saw the land becoming nearer and nearer.

"When the sun was nearly touching the sea-rim, I
was so close to the south-end of Tog, that I could see
the spars of a ship lying at anchor in the bay called
Pao. And then when the sun had set I could see
the lights of many canoes catching flying-fish by
torchlight.

"I swam on and came to the ship. It was the
Aurore.

" I clambered up the side-ladder, and stood on deck,
and the man who was on anchor watch — an ignorant
Tokelau — shouted out in fear, and ran to tell the
captain, and Mr. Houston.

" They brought me below and made much of me,
and gave me something to drink which made me sleep
for many hours.

** When I awakened I was strong and well, but my
eyes were malai (bloodshot). That is all."

230

CHAPTER XXIII

TWO PACIFIC ISLANDS BIRDS

The South Sea Corncrake and the Tooth-billed Piobon

Although I had often heard of the " corncrake " or
landrail of the British Isles, I did not see one until a
few years ago, on my first visit to Ireland, when a
field labourer in County Louth brought me a couple,
which he had killed in a field of oats. I looked at
them with interest, and at once recognised a striking
likeness in shape, markings and plumage to an old
acquaintance — ^the shy and rather rare " banana-bird "
of some of the Polynesian and Melanesian Islands.
I had frequently when in Ireland heard at night,
during the summer months, the repeated and harsh
"crake, crake," of many of these birds, issuing from
the fields of growing com, and was very curious to see
one, for the unmelodious cry was exactly like that of
the kili vaOy or " banana-bird " of the Pacific Islands.
And when I saw the two corncrakes I found them to
be practically the same bird, though but half the size
of the kili vao,

Kili vao in native means bush-snipe, as distinct from
kili fusi^ swamp snipe. It feeds upon ripe bananas,
and papaws (mamee apples), and such other sweet
fruit, that when over-ripe fall to the ground. It is

231

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

very seldom seen in the day-time, when the sun is
strong, though its hoarse frog-like note may often be
heard in cultivated banana plantations, or on the moun-
tain sides, where the wild banana thrives. At early
dawn, or towards sunset, however, they come out from
their retreats, and search for fallen bananas, papaws
or guavas, and I have spent many a delightful half-
hour watching them from my own hiding-place. Al-
though they have such thick, long and clumsy l^s,
and coarse splay feet they run to and fro with marvel-
ous speed, continually uttering their insistent croak.
Usually they were in pairs, male and female, although
I once saw a male and three female birds together.
The former can easily be recognised, for it is consider-
ably larger than its mate, and the coloration of the
plumage on the back and about the eyes is more pro-
nounced, and the beautiful quail-like semi-circular belly
markings are more clearly defined. When disturbed,
and if unable to run into hiding among the dead
banana leaves, they rise and present a ludicrous ap-
pearance, for their legs hang down almost straight, and
their flight is slow, clumsy and laborious, and seldom
extends more than fifty yards.

The natives of the Banks and Santa Cruz Groups
(north of the New Hebrides) assert that the ii/i is a
ventriloquist, and delights to " fool " any one attempt-
ing to capture it. " If you hear it call from the right,
it is hiding to the left; and its mate is perhaps only
two fathoms away from you, hiding under the fallen
banana leaves, and pretending to be dead. And you
will never find either, unless it is a dark night, and

232

TWO PACIFIC ISLANDS BIRDS

you suddenly light a big torch of dried coco-nut leaves ;
then they become dazed and stupid, and will let you
catch them with your hand."

Whilst one cannot accept the ventriloquial theory,
there can be no doubt of the extraordinary cunning in
hiding, and noiseless speed on foot of these birds when
disturbed. One afternoon, near sunset, I was return-
ing from pigeon-shooting on Ureparapara (Banks
Group) when in walking along the margin of a taro-
swamp, which was surrounded by banana trees, a big
kilt rose right in front of me, and before I could bring
my gun to shoulder, my native boy hurled his shoulder-
stick at it and brought it down, dead. Then he called
to me to be ready for a shot at the mate, which, he
said, was close by in hiding.

Walking very gently, he carefully scanned the dead
leaves at the foot of the banana trees, and silently
pointed to a heap which was soddened by rain.

" It is underneath there," he whispered, then flung
himself upon the heap of leaves, and in a few seconds
dragged out the prize — ^a fine full-grown female bird,
beautifully marked. I put her in my game-bag.
During our two-mile walk to the village she behaved in
a disgusting manner, and so befouled herself (after the
manner of a young Australian curlew when captured)
that she presented a repellent appearance, and had such
a disgusting odour that I was at first inclined to throw
her — game-bag and all — away. However, my native
boy washed her, and then we put her in a native
pigeon cage. In the morning she was quite clean and
dry, but persistently hid her head when any one ap-

233

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

proached, refused to take food and died two days later,
although I kept the cage in a dark place.

These birds are excellent eating when not too fat ;
but when the papaws are ripe they become grossly un-
wieldy, and the whole body is covered with thick
yellow fat, and the flesh has the strong sweet taste of
the papaw. At this time, so the natives say, they are
actually unable to rise for flight, and are easily captured
by the women and children at work in the banana and
taro plantations.

(Apropos of this common tendency of the flesh of
birds to acquire the taste of their principal article of
food, I may mention that in those Melanesian Islands
where the small Chili pepper grows wild, the pigeons
at certain times of the year feed almost exclusively
upon the ripe berries, and their flesh is so pungent as
to be almost uneatable. At one place on the littoral
of New Britain, there is a patch of country covered
with pepper trees, and it is visited by thousands of
pigeons, who devour the berries, although their ordin-
ary food of sweet berries was available in profusion in
the mountain forests.)

On some of the Melanesian islands there is a variety
of the banana-bird which frequents the yam and sweet
potato plantation, digs into the hillocks with its power-
ful feet, and feeds upon the tubers, as does the rare
toothed-billed pigeon.

One day, when I was residing in the Caroline
Islands, a pair of live birds were brought to me by the
natives, who had snared them. They were in beautiful
plumage, and I determined to try and keep them.

^34

TWO PACIFIC ISLANDS BIRDS

The natives quickly made me an enclosure about
twenty feet square of bamboo slats about an inch or
two apart, driving them into the ground, and making
a "roof" of the same material, sufficiently high to
permit of three young banana trees being planted
therein. Then we quickly covered the ground with
dead banana leaves, small sticks and other dibris^ and
after making it as ^* natural" as possible, laid down
some ripe bananas, and turned the birds into the en-
closure. In ten seconds they had disappeared under
the heap of leaves as silently as a beaver or a platypus
takes to the water.

During the night I listened carefully outside the en-
closure, but the captives made neither sound nor ap-
pearance. They were still ** foxing," or as my Samoan
servant called it, k toga-fiti e mate (pretending to be
dead).

All the following day there was not the slightest
movement of the leaves, but an hour after sunset, when
I was on my verandah, smoking and chatting with a
fellow trader, a native boy came to us, grinning with
pleasure, and told us that the birds were feeding. I
had a torch of dried coco-nut leaves all in readiness. It
was lit, and as the bright flame burst out, and illumin-
ated the enclosure, I felt a thrill of delight — both birds
were vigorously feeding upon a very ripe and " squashy "
custard apple, disregarding the bananas. The light
quite dazed them, and they at once ceased eating, and
sat down in a terriffed manner, with their necks out-
stretched, and their bills on the ground. We at once
withdrew. In the morning, I was charmed to hear

335

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

them " craking/' and from that time forward they fed
well, and afforded me many a happy hour in watching
their antics. I was in great hopes of their breeding,
for they had made a great pile of cUbris between the
banana trees, into which in the day-time they would
always scamper when any one passed, and my natives
told me that the end of the rainy season was the incu-
bating period. As it was within a few weeks of that
time, I was filled with pleasurable anticipations, and
counted the days. Alas, for my hopes I One night, a
predatory village pig, smelling the fruit which was
always placed in the enclosure daily, rooted a huge
hole underneath the bambods, and in the morning my
pets were gone, and nevermore did I hear their hoarse
crake ! crake I — ever pleasing to me during the night

The Tooth-billed Pxqeon op Samoa — (Didunculus

Strigirostris)

The recent volcanic outburst on the island of Savai'i
in the Samoan Group, after a period of quiescence of
about two hundred years, has, so a Califomian paper
states, revealed the fact that one of the rarest and most
interesting birds in the world, and long supposed to be
peculiar to the Samoan Islands, and all but extinct, is
by no means so in the latter respect, for the convulsion
in the centre of the island, where the volcanic mountain
stands nearly 4,000 feet high, has driven quite a number
of the birds to the littoral of the south coast. So at
least it was reported to the San Francisco journal by a
white trader residing on the south side of Savai'i during
the outbreak.

236

TWO PACIFIC ISLANDS BIRDS

For quite a week before the first tremors and groan-
ing^ of the mountain were felt and heard, the natives
said that they had seen Manu Mea (tooth-billed
pigeons) making their way down to the coast. Several
were killed and eaten by children.

Before entering into my own experiences and know-
ledge of this extraordinary bird, gained during a seven
years' residence in Samoa, principally on the island of
Upolu, I cannot do better than quote from Dr. Stair's
book, Old Samoa^ his description of the bird. Very
happily, his work was sent to me some years ago, and I
was delighted to find in it an account of the Manu Mea
(red bird) and its habits. In some respects he was
misinformed, notably in that in which he was told that
the Didunculus was peculiar to the Samoan Islands ;
for the bird certainly is known in some of the Solomon
Islands, and also in the Admiralty Group — two thousand
miles to the north-west of Samoa. Here, however, is
what Dr. Stair remarks : —

*' One of the curiosities of Samoan natural history is
Le Manu Mea^ or red bird of the natives, the tooth-
billed pigeon {Didunculus StrigirostriSy Peale), and is
peculiar to the Samoan Islands. This remarkable bird,
so long a puzzle to the scientific worlds is only found in
Samoa, and even there it has become so scarce that it
is rapidly becoming extinct, as it falls an easy prey to
the numerous wild cats ranging the forests. It was first
described and made known to the scientific world by Sir
William Jardine, in 1845, under the name of Gnathodon
StrigirostriSj from a specimen purchased by Lady
Hervey in Edinburgh, amongst a number of Australian

337

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

skins. Its appearance excited great interest and curios-
ity, but its true habitat was unknown until some time
after, when it was annoimced by Mr. Strickland before
the British Association at York, that Mr. Titian Peale,
of the United States Exploring Expedition, had dis-
covered a new bird allied to the dodo, which he pro-
posed to name Didunculus Strigirostris, From the
specimen in Sir William Jardine's possession the bird was
figured by Mr. Grould in his Birds of Australia^ and
its distinctive characteristics shown; but nothing was
known of its habitat. At that time the only specimens
known to exist out of Samoa were the two in the United
States, taken there by Commodore Wilkes, and the one
in the collection of Sir William Jardine, in Edinburgh.
The history of this last bird is singular, and may be
alluded to here.

" To residents in Samoa the Manu Mea^ or red bird,
was well known by repute, but as far as I know, no
specimen had ever been obtained by any resident on the
islands until the year 1843, when two fine birds, male
and female, were brought to me by a native who had
captured them on the nest I was delighted with my
prize, and kept them carefully, but could get no infor-
mation whatever as to what class they belonged. After
a time one was unfortunately killed, and not being able
to gain any knowledge respecting the bird, I sent the
surviving one to Sydney, by a friend, in 1843, hoping it
would be recognised and described; but nothing was
known of it there, and my friend lefl it with a bird dealer
in Sydney, and returned to report his want of success.
It died in Sydney, and the skin was subsequently sent

238

TWO PACIFIC ISLANDS BIRDS

to England with other skins for sale, including the skin
of an Apteryx, from Samoa. Later on the skin of the
Manu Mea was purchased by Lady Hervey, and subse-
quently it came into the possession of Sir William Jar-
dine, by whom it was described. Still nothing was
known of its habitat — but this bird which I had origin-
ally sent to Sydney from Samoa was the means of bring-
ing it under the notice of the scientific world, and thus
in some indirect manner of obtaining the object I had
in view.

" After my return to England, in 1 846, the late Dr.
Gray, of the British Museum, showed me a drawing of
the bird, which I at once recognised ; as also a drawing
of a species of Apteryx which had been purchased in
the same lot of skins. A native of Samoa, who was with
me, at once recognised both birds. Dr. Gray and Mr.
Mitchell (of the Zoological Gardens in London) were
much interested in the descriptions I gave them, and
urged that strong efforts should be made to procure liv-
ing specimens. But no steps were taken to obtain the
bird until fourteen years after, when, having returned
to Australia, I was surprised to see a notice in the Mel-
bourne Argils^ of August 3, 1862, to the effect that
the then Governor of Victoria, Sir Henry Barkley,
had received a communication from the Zoological
Society, London, soliciting his co-operation in endeavour-
ing to ascertain further particulars as to the habitat of a
bird they were desirous of obtaining ; forwarding draw-
ings and particulars as far as known at the same time ;
offering a large sum for living specimens or skins de-
livered in London. I at once recc^ised that the bird

339

<;^

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

sought after was the Manu Mea^ and gave the desired
information and addresses of friends in Samoa, through
whose instrumentality a living specimen was safely
received in London, via Sydney, on April lo, 1864,
the Secretary of the Zoological Society subsequently
writing to Dr. Bennett of Sydney, saying, 'The La
Hogue arrived on April 10, and I am delighted to be
able to tell you that the Didunculus is now alive, and in
good health in the gardens, and Mr. Bartlett assures
me is likely to do well *.

*' In appearance the bird may be described as about
the size of a large wood-pigeon, with similar legs and
feet, but the form of its body more nearly resembles
that of the partridge. The remarkable feature of the
bird is that whilst its 1^^ are those of a pigeon, the
beak is that of the parrot family, the upper mandible
being hooked like the parrot's, the under one being
deeply serrated ; hence the name, tooth-billed pigeon.
This peculiar formation of the beak very materially
assists the bird in feeding on the potato-loke root, or
rather fruit, of the soiy or wild yam, of which it is fond.
The bird holds the tuber firmly with its feet, and then
rasps it upwards with its parrot-like beak, the lower
mandible of which is deeply grooved. It is a very shy
bird, being seldom found except in the retired parts of
the forest, away from the coast settlements. It has
great power of wing, and when flying makes a noise,
which, as heard in the distance, closely resembles
distant thunder, for which I have on several occasions
mistaken it. It both roosts and feeds on the ground, as
also on stumps or low bushes, and hence becomes an

240

TWO PACIFIC ISLANDS BIRDS

easy prey to the wild cats of the forest These birds
also build their nests on low bushes or stumps, and are
thus easily captured. During the breeding season the
male and female relieve each other with great r^fularity,
and guard their nests so carefully that they fall an easy
prey to the fowler; as in the case of one bird being
taken its companion is sure to be found there shortly
after. They were also captured with birdlime, or shot
with arrows, the fowler concealing himself near an open
space, on which some sot^ their favourite food, had been
scattered.

" The plumage of the bird may be thus described.
The head, neck, breast, and upper part of the back is of
greenish black. The back, wings, tail, and under tail
coverts of a chocolate red. The legs and feet are of
bright scarlet ; the mandibles, orange red, shaded off
near the tips with bright yellow."

Less than twenty years ago I was residing on the
eastern end of Upolu (Samoa), and during my shooting
excursions on the range of mountains that traverses the
island from east to west, saw several Didunculi^ and, I
regret to say, shot two. For I had no omitholc^ical
knowledge whatever, and although I knew that the
Samoans regarded the Manu Mea as a rare bird, I
had no idea that European savants and museums would
be glad to obtain even a stuffed specimen. The late
Earl of Pembroke, to whom I wrote on the subject from
Australia, strongly urged me to endeavour to secure at
least one living specimen ; so also did Sir George Grey.
But although I — ^like Mr. Stair — wrote to many native

%i,^ i6

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

friends in Samoa, offering a h^h price for a bird, I
had no success ; civil war had broken out, and the people
had other matters to think of beside bird-catching. I
was, however, told a year later that two fine specimens
had been taken on the north-west coast of Upolu, that
one had been so injured in trapping that it died, and
the other was liberated by a mischievous child.

I have never heard one of these birds sound a note,
but a native teacher on Tutuila told me that in the
mating season they utter a short, husky hoot, more like
a coi^h than the cry of a bird.

A full month after I first landed in Samoa, I was
shooting in the mountains at the back of the village of
Tiavea in Upolu, when a large, and to me unknown,
bird rose from the leaf-strewn ground quite near me,
making almost as much noise in its flight as a hombill.
A native who was with me, fired at the same time as I
did, and the bird fell. Scarcely had the native stooped
to pick it up, exclaiming that it was a Manu Mea^ when
a second appeared, half-running, half-flying along the
ground. This, alas I I also killed. They were male
and female, and my companion and I made a search of
an hour to discover their resting place (it was not the
breeding season), but the native said that the Manu Mea
scooped out a retreat in a rotten tree or among loose
stones, covered with dty moss. But we searched in
vain, nor did we even see any wild yams growing about,
so evidently the pair were some distance from their
home, or were making a journey in search of food.

During one of my trips on foot across Upolu, with a
party of natives, we sat down to rest on the side of a

a^3

TWO PACIFIC ISLANDS BIRDS

steep mountain path leading to the village of Siuma
Some hundreds of feet below us was a comparatively
open patch of ground — an abandoned yam plantation,
and just as we were about to resume our journey, we
saw two Manu Mea appear. Keeping perfectly quiet,
we watched them moving about, scratching up the
leaves, and picking at the ground in an aimless, per-
functory sort of manner with their heavy, thick bills.
The natives told me that they were searching, not for
yams, but for a sweet berry called masa'oi^ upon which
the wild pigeons feed.

In a few minutes the birds must have become aware
of our presence, for they suddenly vanished.

I have always regretted in connection with the two
birds I shot, that not only was I unaware of their value,
even when dead, but that there was then living in Apia
a Dr. Forbes, medical officer to the staff of the German
factory. Had I sent them to him, he could have cured
the skins at least, for he was, I believe, an ardent
naturalist.

a43

CHAPTER XXIV

A NIGHT RUN ACROSS FAGALOA BAY

When I was supercargo of the brig Palestine^ we were
one day beating along the eastern shore of the great
island of Tombara (New Ireland) or» as it is now called
by its German possessors, Neu Mecklenburg, when an
accident happened to one of our hands — a smart young
A.B. named Rogers. The brig was "going about" in
a stiff squall, when the jib-sheet block caught poor
Rogers in the side, and broke three of his ribs.

There were then no white men living on the east
coast of New Ireland, or we should have landed him
there to recover, and picked him up again on our return
from the Caroline Islands, so we decided to run down
to Gerrit Denys Island, where we had heard there was
a German doctor living. He was a naturalist, and
had been established there for over a }^ear, although the
natives were as savage and warlike a lot as could be
round an3nvhere in Melanesia.

We reached the island, anchored, and the naturalist
came on board. He was not a professional-looking
man. Here is my description, of him, written fifteen
years Z!gp : —

A NIGHT RUN ACROSS FAGALOA BAY

'* He was bootless, and his pants and many-pocketed
jumper of coarse dungaree were exceedingly dirty, and
looked as if they had been cut out with a knife and fork
instead of scissors, they were so marvellously ill-fitting.
His head-gear was an ancient Panama hat, which
flopped about, and almost concealed his red-bearded
face, as if trying to apologise for the rest of his ap-
parel; and the thin gold-rimmed spectacles he wore
made a curious contrast to his bare and sun-burnt feet,
which were as brown as those of a native. His manner,
however, was that of a man perfectly at ease with him-
self and his clear, steely blue eyes, showed an infinite
courage and resolution."

At first he was very reluctant to have Rogers brought
on shore, but finally 3aelded, being at heart a good-
natured man. So we bade Rogers good-bye, made the
doctor a present of some provisions, and a few cases of
beer, and told him we should be back in six weeks.

When we returned, Rogers came on board with the
German. He was quite recovered, and he and his host
were evidently on very friendly terms, and bade fare-
well to each other with some show of feeling.

After we had left the island. Refers came afl, and
told us his experiences with the German doctor.

" He's a right good sort of a chap, and treated me
well, and did all he could for me, sirs — but although he
is a nice cove, Fm glad to get away from him, and be
aboard the brig again. For I can hardly believe that I
haven't had a horrid, blarsted nightmare for the past
six weeks."

And then he shuddered.

245

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

"What was wrong with him, Rogers?" asked the
skipper.

"Why, he ain't no naturalist — I mean like them
butterfly-hunting coves like you see in the East Indies.
He's a head-hunter — buys heads — afresh 'uns by prefer-
ence, an' smokes an' cures 'em hisself, and sells 'em
to the museums in Europe. So help me God, sirs, I've
seen him put fresh human heads into a barrel of pickle,
then he takes 'em out after a week or so, and cleans out
the brains, and smokes the heads, and sorter varnishes
and embalms 'em like. An' when he wasn't a picklin'
or embalmin' or vamishin', he was a-wridng in half a
dozen 1<^ books. I never knew what he was a-doin'
until one day I went into his workshop — as he called
it — and saw him bargaining with some niggers for a
fresh cut-off head, which he said was not worth much
because the skull was badly fractured, and would not
set up well

" He was pretty mad with me at first for comin' in
upon him, and surprisin' him like, but after a while he
took me into his confidence, and said as how he was
engaged in a perfeckly l^itimate business, and as the
heads was dead he was not hurtin' 'em by preparing 'em
for museums and scientific purposes. And he says to me,
* You English peoples have got many peautiful preserved
heads of the New Zealand Maories in your museums,
but ach, Gott, there is not in England such peautiful
heads as I haf mineself brebared here on dis islandt
And already I haf send me away fifty-seven, and in
two months I shall haf brebared sixteen more, for
which I shall get me five hundred marks'each.' "

246

A NIGHT RUN ACROSS FAGALOA BAY

Rogers told us that when he one day expressed his
horror at his host's "business," the German retorted
that it was only forty or fifty years since that many
Ei^lish officials in the Australian colonies did a
remarkably good business in buying smoked Maori
heads, and selling them to the Continental museums.
(This was true enough.) Rogers furthermore told us
that the doctor " cured " his heads in a smoke-box, and
had " a regular chemist's shop " in which were a number
of large bottles of pyroligneous acid, prepared by a
London firm.

This distinguished savant left Gerrit Denys Island
about a year later in a schooner bound for Sii^pore.
She was found floating bottom up off the Admiralty
Group, and a Hong-Kong newspaper, in recording the
event, mentioned that ''the unfortunate gentleman (Dr.
Ludwig S ) had with him an interesting and ex-
tremely valuable ethnographical collection ".

Rogers's horrible story had a great interest for me ;
for it had been my lot to see many human heads just
severed from the body, and I was always fascinated
by the peculiar expression of the features of those un-
fortunates who had been decapitated suddenly by one
swift blow. ** Death," " Peace," ** Immortality," say the
closed eyelids and the calm, quiet lips to the beholder.

I little imagined that within two years I should have
a rather similar experience to that of Rogers, though in
my case it was a very brief one. Yet it was all too long
for me, and I shall always remember it as the weirdest
experience of my life.

247

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

I have elsewhere in this volume spoken of the
affectionate regard I have always had for the Samoan
people, with whom I passed some of the happiest years
of my life. I have lived among them in peace and in
war, have witnessed many chivalrous and heroic deeds,
and yet have seen acts of the most terrible cruelty to
the living, the mutilation and dishonouring of the dead
killed in combat, and other deeds that filled me with
horror and repulsion. And yet the perpetrators were
all professing Christians — either Protestant or Roman
Catholic — ^and would no more think of omitting daily
morning and evening prayer, and attending service in
church or chapel every Sunday, than they would their
daily bathe in sea or river.

Always shall I remember one incident that occurred
during the civil war between King Malietoa and his
rebel subjects at the town of Saluafata. The oloy or
trenches, of the king's troops had been carried by the
rebels, among whom was a young warrior who had
often distinguished himself by his reckless bravery.
At the time of the assault I was in the rebel lines, for I
was on very friendly terms with both sides, and each
knew that I would not betray the secrets of the other,
and that my only object was to render aid to the
wounded. *

This young man, Tolu, told me, before joining in the
assault, that he had a brother, a cousin, and an uncle in
the enemy's trenches, and that he trusted he should not
meet any one of them, for he feared that he might turn
paid at (coward) and not "do his duty". He was a
Roman Catholic, and had been educated by the Marist

248

A NIGHT RUN ACROSS FAGALOA BAY

Brothers, but all his relatives, with the exception of
one sister, were Protestants — members of the Church
established by the London Missionary Society.

An American trader named Farter and I watched
the assault, and saw the place carried by the rebels,
and went in after them. Among the dead was Tolu,
and we were told that he had shot himself in grief at
having cut down his brother, whom he did not recog-
nise.

Now as to my own weird experience.

There had been severe fighting in the Fagaloa
district of the Island of Upolu, and many villages
were in flames when I left the Fort of Tiavea in my
boat for Fagaloa Bay, a few miles along the shore. I
was then engaged in making a trip along the north
coast, visiting almost every village, and making arrange-
ments for the purchase of the coming crop of copra
(dried coco-nut). I was everywhere well received
by both Malietoa's people and the rebels, but did
but little business. The natives were too occupied in
fighting to devote much time to husking and drying
coco-nuts, except when they wanted to get money
to buy arms and ammunitioa

My boat's crew consisted of four natives of Savage
Island (Niu^), many of whom are settled in Samoa,
where they have ample employment as boatmen and
seamen. They did not at all relish the sound of
bullets whizzing over the boat, as we sometimes could
not help crossing the line of fire, and they had a horror
of travelling at night-time, imploring me not to run the
risk of being slaughtered by a volley from the shore —

249

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

as how could the natives know in the darkness that we
were not enemies.

Fagaloa Bay is deep, narrow and very beautiful.
Small villages a few miles apart may be seen standing
in the midst of groves of coco-nut palms, and orange,
banana and bread-fruit trees, and everywhere bright
mountain streams of crystal water debouch into the
lovely bay.

On Sunday afternoon I sailed into the bay and
landed at the village of Samamea on the east side, in-
tendii^ to remain for the night We found the people
plunged in grief — a party of rebels had surprised a vil-
lage two miles inland, and ruthlessly slaughtered all
the inhabitants as well as a party of nearly a score of
visitors from the town of Salimu, on the west side of
the bay. So sudden was the onslaught of the rebels
that no one in the doomed village escaped except a
boy of ten years of age. After being decapitated, the
bodies of the victims were thrown into the houses, and
the village set on iire.

The people of Samamea hurriedly set out to pursue
the raiding rebels, and an engagement ensued, in which
the latter were badly beaten, and fled so hurriedly that
they had to abandon all the heads they had taken the
previous day in order to save their own.

The chief of Samamea, in whose house I had my
supper, gave me many details of the fighting, and then
afterwards asked me if I would come and look at the
heads that had been recovered from the enemy. They
were in the "town house" and were covered over with
sheets of navy blue cloth, or matting. A number of

250

A NIGHT RUN ACROSS FAGALOA BAY

natives were seated round the house, conversing in
whispers, or weeping silently.

" These," said the chief to me, pointing to a number
of heads placed apart from the others, " are the heads
of the Salimu people — seventeen in all, men, women
and three children. We have sent word to Salimu to
the relatives to come for them. I cannot send them
myself, for no men can be spared, and we have our
own dead to attend to as well, and may ourselves be
attacked at any time."*

A few hours later messengers arrived from Salimu.
They had walked along the shore, for the bay was very
rough — it had been blowing hard for two days — and,
the wind being right ahead, they would not launch a
canoe — it would only have been swamped.

Taken to see the heads of their relatives and friends,
the messengers gave way to most uncontrollable grief,
and^their cries were so distressing that I went for a walk
on the beach — to be out of hearing.

When I returned to the vill^e I found the visitors
from Salimu and the chief of Samamea awaiting to inter-
view me. The chief, acting as their spokeman, asked me
if I would lend them my boat to take the heads of their
people to Salima He had not a single canoe he could
spare, except very small ones, which would be useless
in such weather, whereas my whaleboat would make
nothing of it

I could not refuse their request — it would have
been ungracious of me, and it only meant a half-
hour's run across the bay, for Salimu was exactly
abreast of Samamea* So I said I would gladly sail

251

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

them over in my boat at sunset, when I should be
ready.

The heads were placed in baskets, and reverently
carried down to the beach, and placed in the boat, and
with our lug-sail close reefed we pushed off just after
dark.

There were nine persons in the boat — ^the four Salimu
people, my crew of four and mysel£ The night was
starlight and rather cold, for every now and then a
chilly rain squall would sweep down from the mountains.

As we spun along before the breeze no one spoke,
except in low tones. Our dreadful cargo was amidships,
each basket being covered from view, but every now
and then the boat would ship some water, and when I
told one of my men to bale out, he did so with shudder-
ing horror, for the water was much blood-stained.

When we were more than half-way across, and could
see the lights and fires of Salimu, a rain squall overtook
us, and at the same moment the boat struck some float-
ing object with a crash, and then slid over it, and as it
passed astern I saw what was either a log or plank
about twenty feet long.

"Boat is stove in, forward ! " cried one of my men, and
indeed that was very evident, for the water was pouring
in — ^she had carried away her stem, and started all the
forward timber ends.

To have attempted to stop the inrush of water effectu-
ally would have been waste, of time, but I called to my
men to come aft as far as they could, so as to let the
boat's head lift; and whikttwoof them kept on baling,
the others shook out the reef in our lug, and the boat

252

A NIGHT RUN ACROSS FAGALOA BAY

went along at a great speed, half full of water as she
was, and down by the stem. The water still rushed in,
and I told the Samoans to move the baskets of heads
farther aft, so that the men could bale out quicker.

" We'll be all right in ten minutes, boys/' I cried to my
men, as I steered ; '* I'll run her slap up on the beach
by the church."

Presently one of the Samoans touched my arm, and
said in a whisper that we were surrounded by a swarm
of sharks. He had noticed them, he said, before the
boat struck.

" They smell the bloodied water," he muttered.

A glance over the side filled me with terror. There
were literally scores of sharks, racing along on both sides
of the boat, some almost on the surface, others some
feet down, and the phosphorescence of tiie water added
to the horror of the scene. At first I was in hopes that
they were harmless porpoises, but they were so close
that some of them could have been touched with one's
hand. Most fortunately I was steering with a rudder,
and not a steer oar. The latter would have been torn
out of my hands by the brutes — ^the boat have broached-
to and we all have met with a horrible death. Pre-
sently one of the weeping women noticed them, and
uttered a scream of terror.

''Lemalie, U maHeV' ("The sharks, the sharks!")
she cried.

My crew then became terribly frightened, and urged
me to let them throw the baskets of heads overboard,
but the Samoans became frantic at the suggestion, all
of them weeping.

ass

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

So we kept on, the boat making good progress,
although we could only keep her afloat by continuous
baling of the ensanguined water. In five minutes more
my heart leapt with joy — ^we were in shallow water, only
a cable length from Salimu beach, and then in another
blinding rain squall we ran on shore, and our broken
bows ploughed into the sand, amid the cries of some hun-
dreds of natives, many of whom held lighted torches.

All of us in the boat were so overwroi^ht that for
some minutes we were unable to speak, and it took a
full bottle of brandy to steady the nerves of my crew
and myself I shall never forget that night run across
Fagaloa Bay.

«54

CHAPTER XXV

A BIT OP GOOD LUCK

Between the southern end of the great island of New
Guinea and the Solomon Group there is a cluster of
islands marked on the chart as '^Woodlark Islands,"
but the native name is Mayu. Practically they were
not discovered until 1836, when the master of the
Sydney sandal-wooding barque Woodlark made a survey
of the group. The southern part of the cluster consists
of a number of small well-wooded islands, all inhabited
by a race of Papuans, who, said Captain Grimes of the
Woodlark^ had certainly never before seen a white man,
although they had long years before seen ships in the
far distance.

It was on these islands that I met with the most
profitable bit of trading that ever befel me during more
than a quarter of a century's experience in the South
Seas.

Nearly thirty years passed since Grimes's visit without
the natives seeing more than half a dozen ships. These
were American or Hobart Town whalers, and none of
them came to an anchor — they laid off and on, and
bartered with the natives for fresh provisions, but from

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

the many inquiries I made» I am sure that no one from
these ships put foot on shore ; for the inhabitants were
not to be trusted, being warlike, savage and treacherous.

The master of one of these ships was told by the
natives — or rather made to understand, for no one of
them knew a word of English — that about twelve
months previously a large vessel had run on shore one
wild night on the south side of the group and that all
on board had perished. Fourteen bodies had been
washed on shore at a little island named Elaue, all
dreadfully battered about, and the ship herself had
disappeared and nothing remained of her but pieces of
wreckage. She had evidently struck on the reef near
Elaue with tremendous violence, then slipped off and
sunk. The natives asked the captain to come on shore
and be shown the spot where the men had been buried,
but he was too cautious a man to trust himself among
them.

On his reporting the matter to the colonial shipping
authorities at Sydney, he learned that two vessels were
missing — one a Dutch barque of seven hundred tons
which left Sydney for Dutch New Guinea, and the
other a full-rigged English ship bound to Shanghai.
No tidings had been heard of them for over eighteen
months, and it was concluded that the vessel lost on
Woodlark Island was one or the other, as that island
lay in the course both would have taken.

In 1868-69 there was a great outburst of trading
operations in the North- West Pacific Islands — then in
most instances a terra incognita^ and there was a keen
rivalry between the English and German trading firms

356

A BIT OF GOOD LUCK

to get a footing on such new islands as promised them
a lucrative return for their ventures. Scores of adven-
turous white men lost their lives in a few months, some
by the deadly malarial fever, others by the treach-
erous and cannibalistic savages. But others quickly
took their places — nothing daunted — for the coco-nut
oil trade, the then staple industry of the North- West
Pacific, was very profitable and men made fortunes
rapidly. What mattered it if every returning ship
brought news of some bloody tragedy — such and such
a brig or schooner having been cut off and all hands
murdered, cooked and eaten, the vessel plundered and
then burnt? Such things occur in the North- West
Pacific in the present times, but the outside world now
hears of them through the press and also of the puni-
tive expeditions by war-ships of England, France or
Germany.

Then in those old days we traders would merely say
to one another that " So-and-So * had gone ' ". He and
his ship's company had been cut off at such-and-such a
place, and the matter, in the eager rush for wealth,
would be forgotten.

At that time I was in Levuka — the old capital of Fiji
— ^supercargo of a little topsail schooner of seventy-five
tons. She was owned and sailed by a man named
White, an extremely adventurous and daring fellow,
though very quiet — almost solemn — in his manner.

We had been trading among the windward islands of
the Fiji Group for six months and had not done at all
well. White was greatly dissatisfied and wanted to
break new ground. Every few weeks a vessel would

257 x7

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

sail into the little port of Levuka with a valuable cargo
of coco-nut oil in casks, dunnaged with ivory-nuts, the
latter worth in those days £^o a ton. And both oil and
ivory-nuts had been secured from the wild savages of
the North- West in exchange for rubbishy hoop-iron
knives, old "Tower" muskets with ball and cheap
powder, common beads and other worthless articles on
which there was a profit of thousands per cent. (In
fact, I well remember one instance in which the master
of the Sydney brig E. K. Bateson^ after four months'
absence, returned with a cargo which was sold for
;fS,ooo. His expenses (including the value of the
trade goods he had bartered) his crew's wages, pro-
visions, and the wear and tear of the ship's gear, came
to under ;f 400.)

White, who was a very wide-awake energetic man,
despite his solemnity, one day came on board and told
me that he had made up his mind to join in the rush
to the islands to the North- West between New Guinea
and the Solomons.

" I have," he said, ** just been talking to the skipper of
that French missionary brig, the Anonyme. He has
just come back from the North- West, and told me that
he had landed a French priest^ at Mayu (Woodlark
Island). He — the priest — remained on shore some
days to establish a mission, and told Rabalau, the skipper
of the brig, that the natives were very friendly and said
that they would be glad to have a resident missionary,
but that they wanted a trader still more. Furthermore,

^This was Monseigneur d'Anthipelles the head of the Marist
Brothers in Oceania.

358

A BIT OF GOOD LUCK

they have been making oil for over a year in expecta-
tion of a ship coming, but none had come. And
Rabalau says that they have over a hundred tuns of oil,
and can't make any more as they have nothing to put it
ia Some of it is in old canoes, some in thousands of
big bamboos, and some in hoUowed-out trees. And they
have whips of ivory nuts and are just dying to get
muskets, tobacco and beads. And not a soul in Levuka
except Rabalau and I know it You see, I lent him
twenty bolts of canvas and a lot of running gear last
year, and now he wants to do me a good turn. Now, I
say that Woodlark is the place for u& Anyway, I've
bought all the oil casks I could get, and a lot more in
shooksy and so let us bustle and get ready to be out of
this unholy Levuka at daylight"

We did " bustle ". In twenty-four hours we were clear
of Levuka reef and spinning along to the W.N. W. before
the strong south-east trade, for our run of i,6oo miles.
'Day and night the little schooner raced over the seas at
a great rate, and we made the passage in seven days,
dropping anchor off the largest village in the island —
Guasap.

In ten minutes our decks were literally packed with
excited natives, all armed, but friendly. Had they
chosen to kill us and seize the schooner, it would have
been an easy task, for we numbered only eight persons
—captain, mate, bos'un, four native seamen, and my-
self.

We learned from the natives that two months previ-
ously there had been a terrible hurricane which lasted

359

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

for three days and devastated two-thirds of the islands.
Thousands of coco-nut trees had been blown down, and
the sea had swept away many villages on the coast. So
violent was the surf that the wreck of the sunken ship
on Elaue Island had been cast up in fragments on the
reef, and the natives had secured a quantity of iron work,
copper, and Muntz metal bolts. These articles I at once
bai^ined for, after I had seen the collection, and for two
old Tower muskets, value five shillings each, obtained the
lot— worth £2 so.

I had arranged with the chief and his head men to
buy their oil in the morning. And White and I found
it hard to keep our countenances when they joyfully
accepted to fill every cask we had on the ship each for
twenty sticks of twist tobacco, a cupful of fine red beads
and a fathom of red Turkey twill I Or for five casks I
would give a musket, a tin of powder, twenty bullets,
and twenty caps !

In ten minutes I had secured eighty tuns of oil (worth
£$0 a tun) for trade goods that cost White less than
;f 20. And the beauty of it was that the natives were
so impressed by the liberality of my terms that they
said they would supply the ship with all the fresh pro-
visions — pigs, fowls, turtle and v^etables that I asked
for, without payment

As White and I, after our palaver with the head men,
were about to return on board, we noticed two children
who were wearing a number of silver coins, strung on
cinnet (coir) fibre, around their necka We called them

■

to us, looked at the coins and found that they were
rupees and English fiv&-shilling pieces.

a6o

A BIT OF GOOD LUCK

I asked one of our Fijian seamen, who acted as inter-
preter, to ask the children from where they got the coins.

" On the reef," they replied, " there are thousands of
them cast up with the wreckage of the ship that sank a
long time ago. Most of them are like these " — showing
a five-shilling piece ; ** but there are much more smaller
ones like these," — showing a rupee.

** Are there any santa satna (yellow) ones ? " I asked.

No, they said, they had not found any satna sama
ones. But they could bring me basketfuls of those like
which they showed me.

White's usually solemn eyes were now gleaming with
excitement I drew him and the Fiji man aside, and said
to the latter quietly : —

'* Sam, don't let these people think that these coins
are of any more value than the copper bolts. Tell them
that for every one hundred pieces they bring on board
— no matter what size they may be — I will give them
a cupful of fine red beads — full measure. Or, if they
do not care for beads, I will give two sticks of tobacco,
or a six-inch butcher knife of good, hard steel."

(The three last words made White smile — and
whisper to me, '* * A good, hard steal ' some people would
say — but not me ".)

" And Sam," I went on, ** you shall have an akfa
(present) of two hundred dollars if you manage this
carefully, and don't let these people think that we parti-
cularly care about these pieces of soft white metal. We
came to Mayu for oil — understand ? "

Sam did understand : and in a few minutes every boy
and girl in Guasap were out on the reef picking up

a6z

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

the money. That day they brought us over ;f 200 in
English and Indian silver, together with about ;^I2 in
Dutch coins. (From this latter circumstance White and
I concluded that the wrecked vessel was the missing
Dutch barque.)

On the following morning the reef at low tide pre-
sented an extraordinary spectacle. Every woman, boy
and girl from Guasap and the adjacent villages were
searching for the coins, and their clamour was terrific.
Whilst all this was going on, White, and the mate, and
crew were receiving the oil from the shore, putting it
into our casks, driving the hoops, and stowing them in
the hold, working in such a state of suppressed excite-
ment that we were unable to exchange a word with each
other, for as each cask was filled I, on the after-deck,
paid for it, shunted off the seller, and took another one
in hand.

At four o'clock in the afternoon we ceased work on
board and went on shore to "buy money*'.

The village square was crowded with women and
children, every one of whom had money — mostly in
English five-shilling pieces. Some of these coins were
bent and twisted into the most curious shape, some
were imbedded in lumps of coral, and nearly all gave
evidence of the terrific fury of the seas which had cast
them up upon the reef from a depth of seven fathoms
of water. Many were merely round lumps, having
been rolled over and over among the sand and coral.
These I demurred to accepting on the terms agreed
upon for undamaged coins, and the natives cheerfully
agreed to my decision.

263

A BIT OF GOOD LUCK

That day we bought silver coin, damaged and un-
damaged, to the value of £3S^> f^^ trade goods worth
about £17 or ;f 18.

And for the following two weeks, whilst White and
our crew were hammering and coopering away at the
oil casks, and stowing them under hatches, I was pay-
ing out the trade goods for the oil, and "buying
money".

We remained at Mayu for a month, until there was
no more money to be found — except a few coins (or
rather what had once been coins) ; and then with a ship
full of oil, and with ;£'2,ioo worth of money, we left
and sailed for Sydney.

White sold the money en bloc to the Sydney mint
for ;6'i,850. The oil realised ;f 2,400, and the copper,
etc., ;^25o. My share came to over ;f 400— exclusive
of four months' wages — making nearly ;f500. This
was the best bit of trading luck that I ever met with.

I must add that even up to 1895 silver coins from
the Dutch barque were still being found by the natives
of Woodlark Islands.

263

CHAPTER XXVI

MODERN PIRATES

Piracy, as most people are aware, is not yet quite
extinct in Chinese and East Indian waters, despite
the efforts that have been made to utterly stamp it
out But it is not generally known that along the
shores of Dutch New Guinea, on both sides of the
great island, there are still vigorous communities of
native pirates, who will not hesitate to attack even
armed trading vessels. These savages combine the
business of head-hunting with piracy, and although
they do not possess modem firearms, and their crafts
are simply huge canoes, they show the most determined
courage, even when attacking a vessel manned by
Europeans.

The annual reports of the Governors of Dutch,
German and British New Guinea, detailing the murder-
ous doings of these head-hunting pirates, are as inter-
esting reading as the tales of Rajah Brooke and Stam-
ford RafHes, and the practical suppression of piracy in
the East Indian Archipelago, but seldom attract more
than a few lines of comment in the public press.

In writing of pirates of the present day, I shall not

264

MODERN PIRATES

go beyond my own beat of the North and South
Pacific, and speak only of events within my own
personal knowledge and observation. Before entering
into an account of some of the doings of the New
Guinea ''Tugeri/' or head-hunter pirates, I shall tell
the story of two notable acts of piracy committed by
white men in the South Pacific, less than ten years
ago. The English newspapers gave some attention
to one case, for the two principal criminals concerned
were tried at Brest, and the case was known as the
" Rorique tragedy". Much comment was made on
the statement that the King of the Belgians went to
France, after the prisoners had been sentenced to
death (they were Belgian), to personally intercede for
them. The French press stigmatised His Majesty's
action as a scandal (one journal suggesting that
perhaps the pirates were pretty women in men's garb) ;
but no doubt King Leopold is a very tender-hearted
man, despite the remarks of unkind English people
on the subject of the eccentricities of the Belgian
officers in the Congo Free Stale — such as cutting off the
hands of a few thousands of stupid negroes who failed
to bring in sufficient rubber. There are even people
who openly state that the Sultan of Turkey dislikes
Armenians, and has caused some of them to be hurt.

But I am getting away from my subject.

The story of the Roriques, and the tragedy of the
Niuroahiti^ which was the name of the vessel they
seized, is one of the many grisly episodes with which
the history of the South Seas is so prolific. Briefly it
is as follows : —

265

THE CALL .OF THE SOUTH

About the end of 1891 the two brothers arrived
at Papeite, the capital of Tahiti, from the Paumotu
Group, where, it was subsequently learned, they had
been put on shore by the captain of an island trader,
who strongly suspected them of plotting with the crew
to murder him and seize the ship. Nothing of this
incident, however, was known at Tahiti among the
white residents with whom they soon ingratiated them-
selves ; they were exceedingly agreeable-mannered men,
and the elder brother, who was a remarkably handsome
man of about thirty-five, was an excellent linguist,
speaking German, French, Italian, English, Dutch,
Spanish and Zulu fluently. Although they had with
them no property beyond firearms, their bonhomie and
the generally accepted belief that they were men of
means, made them the recipients of much hospitality
and kindness. Eventually the younger man was given
a position as a trader on one of the pearl-shell lagoon
islands in the Paumotu Group, while the other took
the berth of mate in the schooner Niuroahiii, a smart
little native-built vessel owned by a Tahitian prince.
The schooner was under the command of a half-caste,
and her complement consisted, besides the captain,
of Mr. William Gibson, the supercargo, Rorique the
first mate, a second mate, four Society Island natives,
and the cook, a Frenchman named Hippolyte Miret.
The Niuroahiti traded between Tahiti and the Paumo-
tus, and when she sailed on her last voyage she was
bound to the Island of Kaukura, where the younger
Rorique was stationed as trader. She never returned,
but it was ascertained that she had called at Kaukura,

266

MODERN PIRATES

and then left again with the second brother Rorique
as passenger.

Long, long months passed, and the Australian rela-
tives and friends of young Gibson, a cheery, adventurous
young fellow, began to think, with the owner of the
Niuroahitty that she had met a fate common enough in
the South Sea trade — turned turtle in a squall, and gone
to the bottom with all hands.

About this time I was on a trading cruise in the
Caroline Islands, and one day we spoke a Fiji schooner.
I went on board for a chat with the skipper, and told
him of the Niuroahiti affair, of which I had heard a
month before.

** By Jove," he exclaimed, " I met a schooner exactly
like her about ten days ago. She was going to the
W.N.W. — Ponap6 way — and showed French colours.
I bore up to speak her, but she evidently didn't want
it, hoisted her squaresail and stood away."

From this I was sure that the vessel was the Niuroa-
httif and therefore sent a letter to the Spanish governor
at Ponap6, relating the affair. It reached him just in
time.

The Niuroahiti was then lying in Jakoits harbour
in Ponap6, and was to sail on the following day for
Macao. She was promptly seized, and the brothers
Rorique put in irons, and taken on board the Spanish
cruiser Le Gaspi for conveyance to Manila Hippolyte
Miret, the cook, confessed to the Spanish authorities
that the brothers Rorique had shot dead in their sleep
the captain, Mr. Gibson, the second mate, and the four
native sailors,

267

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

The trial was a long one, but the evidence was most
damning and convincing, although the brothers passion-
ately declared that Miret's story was a pure invention.
Sentence of death was passed, but was afterwards com-
muted to imprisonment for life, and the Roriques are
now in chains in Cayenne.

The second case was of a very dreadful character,
and has an additional interest from the fact that out of
all the participators — ^the pirates and their victims —
only one was left alive to tell the tale, and he was found
in a dying condition on one of the Galapagos Islands,
and only lived a few days. The story was told to me
by the captain of the brigantine Istuu RevelSy of San
Francisco, who put into the Galapagos to repair his
ship, which had started a butt-end and was leaking
seriously. He had just anchored between Narborough
and Albemarle Islands when he saw a man sitting on
the shore, and waving his hands to the ship. A boat
was lowered, and the man broi^ht on board. He was
in a ravenous state of hunger, and half-demented ; but
after he had been carefully attended to he was able to
give some account of himself. He was a young Colom-
bian Indian, could speak no English, and only a mongrel,
halting kind of Spanish. The Portuguese cook of the
Isaac Revelsy however, understood him. This was his
story : —

He was one of the peons of a wealthy Ecuadorian
gentleman, who with another equally rich friend sailed
from Guayaquil for the Galapagos Islands (which belong
to Ecuador), and the largest of which, Albemarle Island,

268

MODERN PIRATES

they had leased from that Government for sheep and
cattle-breeding. They took with them a few thousand
silver dollars, which the peon saw placed in '* an iron
box" (safe).

One of the merchants had with him his two young
daughters. The vessel was a small brig, and the cap-
tain and crew mostly Chilenos. One night, when the
brig was half-way across to the Galapagos (600 miles
from Ecuador) the peon, who was on deck asleep, was
suddenly seized, pitched down into the fo'c'stle, and the
scuttle closed. Here he was left alone until dawn, and
then ordered on deck, aft. The captain pointed a
pistol at his head, and threatened to shoot him dead if
he ever spoke of what had happened in the night.
The man — although he knew nothing of what had
happened — promised to be secret, and was then given
fifty dollars, and put in the mate's watch. He saw
numerous blood-stains on the after-deck, and soon
after was told by one of the hands that all the four
passengers had been murdered, and thrown overboard.
The captain, mate and four men, it appeared, had first
made ready a boat, provisioned, and lowered it They
made some noise, which aroused the male passengers,
one of whom came on deck to see what was the matter.
He was at onoe seized, but being a very powerful m2m,
made a most determined fight. His friend rushed up
from below with a revolver in his hand, and shot two
of the assailants dead, and wounded the mate. But
they were assailed on all sides — shot at and struck with
various weapons, and then thrown overboard to drown.
Then the pirates, after a hurried consultation, went

•69

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

below, and forcing open the girls* cabin door, ruthlessly
shot them, carried them on deck, and cast them over
the side. It had been their intention to have sent all
four away in the boat, but the resistance made so en-
r^ed them that they murdered them instead.

For some days the pirates kept on a due west
course towards the Galapagos. A barrel of spirits
was broached, and night and day captain and crew
were drunk. When Albemarle Island . was sighted,
every one except the peon and a boy was more or less
intoxicated. A boat had been lowered, and was tow-
ing astern — for what purpose the peon did not know.
At night it fell a dead calm, and a strong current set
the brig dangerously close in shore. The captain
ordered some of the hands into her to tow the brig out
of danger; they refused, and shots were exchanged,
but after a while peace was restored. The peon and
the boy were then told to get into the boat, and bale
her out, as she was leaky. They did so, and whilst so
engaged a sudden squall struck the brig, and the boat's
towline either parted, or was purposely cast off.

When the squall cleared, the peon and boy in the
drifting boat could see nothing whatever of the brig —
she had probably capsized — and the two unfortimate
beings soon after daylight found themselves so close to
the breakers on Narborough Island that they were
unable to pull her dear — she being very heavy. She
soon struck, and was roiled over and over, and the
Chileno boy drowned. The peon also received internal
injuries, but managed to reach the shore.

The people on board the Isaac Revels did all they

270

MODERN PIRATES

could for the poor fellow, but he only survived a few
days.

In another article in this volume I have told of my
fruitless efforts to induce some of the Rook Island
cannibals to ** recruit " with me. It was on that voyage
I first saw a party of New Guinea head-hunting pirates,
and I shall never forget the experience.

After leaving Rook Island, we stood over to the
coast of German New Guinea, and sailed along it for
three hundred miles to the Dutch boundary (longitude
141 east of Greenwich) for we were in hopes of getting
a full cargo of native labourers from some of the many
islands which stud the coast. No other "labour" ship
had ever been so far north, and Morel (the skipper) and
I were keenly anxious to find a new ground. We had
a fine vessel, with a high freeboard, a well-armed and
splendid crew, and had no fear of being cut off by the
natives. (I may here mention that I was grievously dis-
appointed, for owing to the lack of a competent inter-
preter I failed to get a single recruit But in other
respects the voyage was a success, for I did some very
satisfactory trading business)

After visiting many of the islands, we anchored in
what is now named in the German charts Krauel Bay,
on the mainland. There were a few scattered vil-
lages on the shore, and some of the natives boarded
u& They were all well-armed, with their usual weapons,
but were very shy, distrustful and nervous.

Early one morning five large canoes appeared in the
offing — evidently having come from the Schouten
Islands group, about ten miles to the eastward. The

271

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

moment they were seen by the natives on shore, the
villages were abandoned^ and the people fled into the
bush.

In a most gallant style the five canoes came straight
into the bay, and brought-to within a few hundred
fathoms of our ship, and the first thing we noticed was
a number of decapitated heads hanging over the sides
of each craft, as boat-fenders are hung over the gunwale
of a boat. This was intended to impress the White
Men.

We certainly were impressed, but were yet quite
ready to make short work of our visitors if they at-
tempted mischief. Our ship's high freeboard alone
would have made it very difficult for them to rush us,
and the crew were so well-armed that, although we
numbered but twenty-eight, we could have wiped out
over five hundred possible assailants with ease had they
attempted to board and capture the ship.

Some of the leaders of this party of pirates came on
board our vessel, and Morel and I soon established very
friendly relations with them. They told us that they
had been two months out from their own territory (in
Dutch New Guinea) had raided over thirty villages, and
taken two hundred and fif^ieen beads, and were now re-
turning home — well satisfied.

Morel and I went on board one of the great canoes,
and were received in a very friendly manner, and shown
many heads — some partly dried, some too fresh, and
unpleasant-looking.

These head-hunting pirates were not cannibals, and
behaved in an extremely decorous manner when they

27a

MODERN PIRATES

visited our ship. A finer, more stalwart, proud, self-
possessed, and dignified lot of savages-^if they could be
so termed — I had never before seen.

They left Krauel bay two days later, without inter-
fering with the people on shore, and Morel and I shook
hands, and rubbed noses with the leading head-hunters,
when we said farewell.

273 18

CHAPTER XXVII
pautSe

** Please, good White Man, wilt have me for tavini
(servant) ? "

Marsh, the trader, and the Reverend Harry Copley,
the resident missionary cm Motumoe, first looked at the
speaker, then at each other, and then laughed hilari-
ously.

A native girl, about thirteen years of age, was stand-
ing in the trader's doorway, clad only in a girdle of many-
hued dracsna leaves. Her long, glossy black hair fell
about her smooth red-brown shoulders like a mantle, and
her big, deer-like eyes were filled with an eager expect-
ancy.

*^ Come hither, Pautoe,"said the missionaty, speaking
to the g^rl in the bastard Samoan dialect of the island.
'* And so thou dost want to become servant to Marsi ? "

Pautoe's eyes sparkled.

" A)^," she replied, " I would be second tavini to him.
No wages do I want, only let him give me my food,
and a mat upon which to sleep, and I shall do much work
for him — truly, much work."

The missionary drew her to him and patted her
shoulder.

274

PAUTOE

" Dost like sardines, Pautoe ? "

She clasped her hands over her bosom, and looked
at him demurely from underneath her beautiful long-
lashed eyes, and then her red lips parted and she
showed her even, pearly teeth as she smiled

'' Give her a tin of sardines, and a biscuit or two,
Marsh,'* said the parson, ** she's one of my pupils at the
Mission House. You remember Bret Harte's story,
TA€ Right Eye of the Spanish Cotnmandery and the
little Indian maid Paquita? Well, this youngster is
my Paquita. She's a most intelligent girl." He paused
a moment and then added regretfully : '^ Unfortunately
my wife dislikes her intensely — thinks she's too for-
ward. As a matter of fact a more lovable child never
breathed"

Marsh nodded. He was not surprised at Mrs.
Copley disliking the child, for she — a thin, sharp-vis-
aged and austere lady of forty years of age — was child-
less, and older than her cheerful, kind-hearted husband
by twelve years. The natives bore her no love, and
had given her the contemptuous nickname of Le Matua
moa e lefua — " the eggless old hen "•

Marsh himself told me this story. He and I had
been shipmates together in many cruises until he tired
of the sea, and, having saved a little money, started
business as a trader among the Equatorial Islands —
and I lost a good comrade and friend.

'' I wish you would take the child. Marsh," said the
missionary presently. " She is an orphan, and ^

" I'll take her, of course. She can help Leota, I
daresay, and I'll give her a few dollars a month. But

275

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

why isn't she dressed in the usual flaming style of your
other pupils — skirt, blouse, brown paper-soled boots,
and a sixpenny poke bonnet with artificial flowers, and
otherwise made up as one of the ' brands plucked from
the burning' whose photographs glorify the parish
magazines in the old country ? "

Copley's blue-grey eyes twinkled. "Ah, that's the
rub with my wife. Pautoe won't *put 'em on'. She
is not a native of this island, as you can no doubt see.
Look at her now — almost straight nose, but Semitic,
thin nostrils, long silky hair, small hands and feet.
Where do you think she hails from ? "

"Somewhere to the eastward — Marquesas Group,
perhaps."

" That is my idea, too. Do you know her story? "

"No. Who is she?"

"Ah, that no one knowa Early one morning
twelve or thirteen years ago — long before I came here
— the natives saw a small topsail-schooner becalmed off
the island. Several canoes put off, and the people, as
they drew near the vessel, were surprised and alarmed
to see a number of armed men on deck, one of whom
hailed them, and told them not to come on board,
but that one canoe only might come alongside. But
the natives hesitated, till the man stooped down and
then held up a baby girl about a year old, and
said : —

" * If you will take this child on shore and care for it
I will give you a case of tobacco, a bag of bullets, two
muskets and a keg of powder, some knives, axes and
two fifty-pound tins of ship biscuit. The child's

276

PAUTOE

mother is dead, and there is no woman on board to
care for it/

'^ For humanity's sake alone the natives would have
taken the infant, and said so, but at the same time
they did not refuse the offer of the presents. So one
of the canoes went alongside, the babe was passed
down, and then the presents. Then the people were
told to shove off. A few hours later a breeze sprang
up, and the schooner stood away to the westward.
That was how the youngster came here."

" I wonder what had occurred ? "

** A tragedy of some sort — piracy and murder most
likely. One of the natives named Rahili who went out
to the vessel, was an ex-sailor, who spoke and could
also read and write English well, and he noticed that
although the schooner was much weather-worn as if
she had been a long while at sea, there was a newly-
painted name on her stern — Meta, That in itself was
suspicious. I sent an account of the affair to the
colonial papers, but nothing was known of any vessel
named the Meta, Since then the child had lived first
with one family, and then another. As I have said,
she is extremely intelligent, but has a curiously inde-
pendent spirit — * refractory ' my wife calls it — and does
not associate with the other native girls. One day,
not long ago, she got into serious trouble through her
temper getting the better of her. Lisa, my native as-
sistant's daughter is, as I daresay you know, a very
conceited, domineering young lady, and puts on very
grand airs — ^all these native teachers and their wives
and daughters are alike with regard to the * side ' they

277

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

put on — and my wife has made so much of her that
the girl has become a perfect female prig. Well, it
seems that Pautoe refused to attend my wife's sewing
class (which Lisa bosses) saying that she was going out
on the reef to get crayfish. Thereupon Lisa called
her a laakau tafea (a log of wood that had drifted on
shore) and Pautoe, resenting the insult and the jeers
and laughter of the other children, seized Mademoiselle
Lisa by the hair, tore her blouse off her and called her
* a fat-faced, pig-eyed monster *.*

Marsh laughed. " Description terse, but correct"

'* The deacons expelled her from school, and ordered
hef a whipping, but the chief and I interfered, and
stopped it."

The trader nodded approval. '* Of course you did,
Copley ; just what any one who knows you would ex-
pect you to do. But although I am quite willing to
give the child a home, I can't be a schoolmaster to her."

**Of course not You are doing more than any
other man would do for her."

Twelve months had passed, and Marsh had never
had reason to regret his kindness to the orphan. To
him she was wonderfully gentle and obedient, and from
the very first had acceded to his wish to dress herself
in semi-European fashion. The trader's household
consisted of himself and his two servants, a Samoan
man named AH (Harry) and his wife, Leota. For
some years they had followed his fortunes as a trader
in the South Seas, and both were intensely devoted to
him. A childless couple. Marsh at first had feared

278

PAUTOE

that they would resent the intrusion of Pautoe into his
home But he was mistaken ; for both AH and Leota
had but one motive for existence, and that was to
please him — the now grown man, who eleven years
before, when he was a mere youth, had run away from
his ship in Samoa, and they had hidden him from pur-
suit And then when "Tikki" (Dick) Marsh, by his
industrious habits, was enabled to begin life as a
trader, they had come with him, sharing his good and
his bad luck with him, and serving him loyally and de-
votedly in his wanderings throughout the Isles of the
Pacific. So, when Pautoe came they took her to
themselves as a matter of duty ; then, as they began to
know the girl, and saw the intense admiration she had
for Marsh, they loved her, and took her deep into their
warm hearts. And Pautoe would sometimes tell them
that she knew not whom she loved most — " Tikki " or
themselves.

Matters, from a business point of view, had not for
two years prospered with Marsh on Motumoe. Suc-
cessive seasons of drought had destroyed the cocoanut
crop, and so one day he told Copley, who keenly sym-
pathised with him, that he must leave the island. This
was a twelvemonth after Pautoe had come to stay with
him«

** I shall miss you very much. Marsh/' said the mis-
sionary, " miss you more than you can imagine. My
monthly visits to you here have been a great solace and
pleasure to me. I have often wished that, instead of
being thirty miles apart, we were but two or three, so
that I could have come and seen you every few days."

279

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

Then he added : ** Poor little Pautoe will break her heart
over your going away '\

" But I have no intention of leaving her behind, Cop-
ley. I am not so hard pressed that I cannot keep the
youngster. I am thinking of putting her to school in
Samoa for a few years."

•* That is very generous of you, Marsh. I would have
much liked to have taken her into my own house, but —
my wife, you know."

Two weeks later Marsh left the island in an Ameri-
can whaleship, which was to touch at Samoa There he
intended to buy a small cutter, and then proceed to the
Western Pacific, where he hoped to better his fortunes
by trading throughout the various islands of the wild
New Hebrides and Solomon Groups.

During the voyage to Samoa he one day asked Pautoe
if she would not like to go to school in Samoa with
white and half-<:aste girls, some of her own age, and
others older.

Such an extraordinary change came over the poor
child's face that Marsh was astounded. For some
seconds she did not speak, but breathed quickly and
spasmodically as if she were physically exhausted, then
her whole frame trembled violently. Then a sob broke
from her.

"Be not angry with me, Tikki, . . . but I would
rather die than stay in Samoa, . . . away from thee
and Ali and Leota. Oh, master " she ceased speak-
ing and sobbed so unrestrainedly that Marsh was moved.
He waited till she had somewhat calmed herself, and
then said gravely : —

280

PAUTOE

" 'Twill be a great thing for thee, Pautoe, this school.
Thou wilt be taught much that is good, and the English
lady who has the school will be kind **

" Nay, nay, Tikki," she cried brokenly, " send me not
away, I beseech thee. Let me go with thee, and Ali
and Leota, to those new, wild lands. Oh, cast me
not away from thee. Where thou goest, let me go."

Marsh smiled. " Thou art another Ruth, little one.
In such words did Ruth speak to Naomi when she went
to another country. Dost know the story ? "

" Aye, I know the story, and I have no fear of wild
lands. Only have I fear of seeing no more all those I
love if thou dost leave me to die in Samoa."

Again the trader smiled as he bade her dry her
tears.

" Thou shalt come with us, little one. Now, go tell
Leota."

For many months Marsh remained in Apia, unable
to find a suitable vessel. Then, not caring to remain in
such a noisy and expensive port — ^he rented a native
house at a charmingly situated village called Laulii,
about ten miles from Apia, and standing at the head
of a tiny bay, almost landlocked by verdant hills. So
much was he pleased with the place, that he half formed
a resolution to settle there permanently, or at least for a
year or two.

Ali and Leota were delighted to learn this, for
although they were willing to go anywhere in the world
with their beloved " Tikki," they, like all Samoans, were
passionately fond of their own beautiful land, with its
lofty mountains and forests, and clear running streams.

281

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

And Pautoe, too, was intensely happy, for to her Samoa
was a dream-land of light and beauty. Never before
had she seen mountains, except in pictures shown her
by Mr. Copley or Marsh, and never before had she
seen a stream of running water. For Motumoe, where
she had lived all her young life, was an atoll — low, flat,
and sandy, and although densely covered with coco
palms, there were but few other trees of any height
And now, in Samoa, she was never tired of wandering
alone in the deep, silent forest, treading with ecstasy the
thick carpet of fallen leaves, gazing upwards at the
canopy of branches, and listening with a thrilled delight
to the booming notes of the great blue-plumaged, red-
breasted pigeons, and the plaintive answering cries of
the ring-doves. Then, too, in the forest at the back of
the village were ruins of ancient dwellings of stone,
build by> hands unknown, preserved from decay by a
binding net-work of ivy-like creepers and vines, and the
haunt and resting-place of the wild boar and his mate,
and their savage, quick-footed progeny. And some-
times she would hear the shrill, cackling scream of a
wild mountain cock, and see the great, fierce-eyed bird,
half-running, half-flying over the leaf-strewn ground.
And to her the forest became a deep and holy mystery,
to adore and to love.

Quite near to Laulii was another village — Lautonga,
in which there lived a young American trader named
Lester Meredith — like Marsh, an ex-sailor. He was an
extremely reserved, quiet man, but he and Marsh soon
became friends, and they exchanged almost daily visits.
Meredith, like Marsh, was an unmarried man, and one

28a

PAUTOE

day the local chief of the district jocularly reproached
them.

" Thou, Tikki, art near to two-score years, and yet
hast no wife, and thou, Lesta, art one score and five and
yet live alone. Why is it so ? Ye are both fine, hand-
some men, and pleasing to the eyes of womea"

Marsh laughed. "O Tofia, thou would-be match-
maker! I am no marrying man. Once, indeed, I gave
my heart to a woman in mine own country of England,
but although she loved me, her people were both rich
and proud, and I was poor. So she became wife to
another man."

Pautoe, who was listening intently to the men's talk,
set her white teeth, and clenched her shapely little hands,
and then said slowly :—

" Didst kill the other man, Tikki ? *'

Marsh and Meredith both laughed, and the former
shook his head, and then Tofia turned to Meredith : —

'' Lesta, hast never thought of Mah'ea, the daughter of
Tonu ? There is no handsomer girl in Samoa, and she
is of good family. And she would like to marry thee."

Meredith smiled, and then said jestingly, '* Nay, Tofia,
I care not for Maliea. I shall wait for Pautoe. Wilt
have me, little one ? "

The girl looked at him steadily, and then answered
gravely : —

" Aye, if Tikki is willing that I should. But yet I
will not be separated from hint"

" Then you and I will have to become partners, Mere-
dith," said Marsh, his eyes twinkling with amusement

a83

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

A few days after this Meredith returned from a visit
to Apia.

" Marsh," he said to his friend, " I think it would be
a good thing for us both if we really did go into partner-
ship, and put our little capitals together. Are you so
disposed?"

** Quite. There is nothing I should like better."

'* Good. Well, now I have some news. I have just
been looking at a little schooner in Apia harbour. She
arrived a few days ago, leaking, and the owner will sell
her for $i ,8oo. She will suit us very well. I overhauled
her, and except that she is old and leaks badly, from
having been ashore, she is well worth the money. You
and I can easily put her on the beach here, get at the
leak, and recopper her at a cost of a few hundred dollars.
We can have her ready for sea in three weeks. You,
All and myself can do all the work ourselvea"

Marsh was delighted, and in less than an hour the
two men, accompanied by Ali and Tofia, were on the
way to Apia, much to the wonder of Leota and Pautoe,
who were not then let into the secret — the newly-made
partners intending to give them a pleasant surprise.

On boarding the little craft, Marsh was much pleased
with her, and during the day the business of transfer-
ring the vessel to her new owners was completed at the
American Consulate, the money paid over, and the
partners put in possession.

The same evening, Ali, a splendid diver, succeeded
in finding and partly stopping the main leak, which was
on the bilge on the port side, and preparations were
made to sail early in the morning for Laulii.

a84

PAUTOE

The partners were seated in the little cabin, smoking,
and talking over their plans for the future, when the
former master and owner of the schooner came on board
to see, as he said, " how they were getting on ".

He was a good-natured, intelligent old man, and had
had a life-long experience in the South Seas. By birth
he was a Genoese, but he was intensely proud of being
a naturalised British subject, and, from his youth, hav-
ing sailed under the red ensign of Old England. Marsh
and Meredith made him very welcome, and he, being
mightily pleased at having sold The Dove (as the
schooner was called), and also having dined exceedingly
well at the one hotel then in Apia, became very
talkative.

" I can tell you, gentlemen, that The Dave, although
she is not a new ship, is as strong and sound as if she
were only just built. I have had her now for nearly
thirteen years, and have made my little fortune by her,
and I could kiss her, from the end of her jibboom to the
upper rudder gudgeon. But I am an old man now,
and want to go back to my own country to die
among my people — or else " — and here he twisted his
long moustaches and laughed hilariously — *' settle down
in England, and become a grand man like old General
Rosas of South America, and die pious, and have a
bishop and a mile-long procession at my funeral."

The partners joined the old sailor in his laugh, and
then Marsh said casually, and to make conversation : —

"By-the-way, Captain, where did you buy The
Dave?'*

" I didn't buy her, my bold breezy lads. And I didn't

385

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

steal her, as many a ship is stolen in the South Seas. I
came by her honestly enough."

" A present ? " said Meredith interrc^atively.

" Wrong, my lad — ^neither was she a present" Then
the ancient squared his broad shoulders, helped him-
self to some refreshment (more than was needed for
his good) and clapping Marsh on the shoulder, said :
" rU tell you the yzm, my lads — ^for you are only
lads, aren't you ? Well, here it is : —

"About twelve or thirteen years ago I was mate of
a San Francisco trading brig, the Lola Montez, and one
afternoon, when we were running down the east coast
of New Caledonia, we sighted a vessel drifting in shore
— ^this very same schooner. The skipper of the brig
sent me with a boat's crew to take possession of her —
for we could see that no one was on board.

" I boarded her and found that her decks had been
swept by a heavy sea — which, I suppose, had carried
away every one on board. I overhauled the cabin, but
could not find her papers, but her name was on the
stem — Meta.'*

Marsh started, and was about to speak, but the old
skipper went on : —

" During the night heavy weather came on, and the
Lola Montez and the Meta parted company. The Lola
was never heard of again — she was old and as rotten as
an over-ripe pear, and I suppose her seams opened,
and she went down.

" So I stuck to the MetOy brought her to Sydney, and
re-named her The Dove . And she's a bully little ship,
I can tell you. I think that she was built in the

aS6

PAUTOE

Marquesas Islands, for all her knees and stringers are
of ngiia wood (lignum vitae) cut in the Marquesan
fashion, and set so closely tc^ether that any one would
think she was meant for a Greenland whaler. Then
there is another thing about her that you will notice,
and which makes me feel sure that she was built by a
whaleman, and that is the carvings of whales on each
end of the windlass barrel, and on every deck stanchion
there are the same, although you can hardly see them
now — ^they are so much covered up by yearly coatings
of paint for over a dozen years."

Meredith rose suddenly from his seat.
** You'll excuse me, but I feel tired, and must turn in."
The visitor took the hint, and did not stay. Wishing
the partners good luck, he got into his boat, and pushed
off for the shore.
Then Meredith turned to Marsh, and said quietly : —
'' Marsh, I know that you can trust Ali, but what of
Tofia ? "

•* He's all right, I think. But what is the matter ? "
"1*11 let you know presently. But first tell Tofia
that he had better go on shore to sleep. You and I
are going to have a quiet talk, and then do a little
overhauling of this cabin."

Wondering what possibly was afoot. Marsh got rid of
the friendly chief by asking him to go on shore and
buy some fresh provisions, but not to trouble about
bringing them off until daylight, as he and his partner
were tired, and wanted to turn in.

Leaving Ali on deck to keep watch, the two men
went below, and sat down at the cabin table

387

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

" Marsh," began the young American, " I have a
mighty queer yam to tell you — I know that this
schooner, once the MetUy and now The Dove^ was
originally the Juliette^ and was built by my father at
Nukahiva in the Marquesas. Now, I'll get through
the story as quickly as possible, but as I don't want to
be interrupted I'll ask Ali not to let any chance
visitor come aboard to-night"

He went on deck, and on returning first filled and
lit his pipe in his cool, leisurely manner, and resumed
his story.

" My father, as I one day told you, was a whaling
skipper, and was lost at sea about thirteen years ago —
that is all I ever did say about him, I think. He was
a hard old man, and there was no love between us, so
that is why I have not spoken of him. He used me
very roughly, and when my mother died I left him
after a stormy scene. That was eighteen or nineteen
years ago, and I never saw him again.

" When my poor mother died, he sold his ship and
went to the Marquesas Islands, and opened a business
there as a trader. He had made a lot of money at
sperm whaling ; and, I suppose, thought that as I had
lefl him, swearing I never wished to see him again,
that he would spend the rest of his days in the South
Seas — money grubbing to the last

" Sometimes I heard of him as being very prosperous.
Once, when I was told that he had been badly hurt by
a gun accident, I wrote to him and asked if he would
care for me to come and stay with him. This I did
for the sake of my dead mother. Nearly a year and a

288

PAUTOE

half passed before I got an answer — ^an answer that cut
me to 'the quick : —

'' ' I want no undutiful son near me. I do well by
myself.

** Several 3^ears went by, and then when I was mate
of a trading schooner in the Fijis I was handed a letter
by the American Consul. It was two years old, and
was from my father — a long, long letter, written in such
a kindly manner, and with such affectionate expressions
that I forgave the old man all the savage and unmerited
thrashings he had given me when I sailed with him as
a lad.

** In this letter he told me that he wanted to see me
^ain — that made me feel good — and that he had built
a schooner which he had named Juliette after my
mother, who was a French Canadienne. He described
the labour and trouble he had taken over her, the knees
and stringers of ngita wood, and the carvings of sperm
whales he had had cut on the windlass butts and stan-
chions. Then he went on to say that he had been
having a lot of trouble with the French naval authorities,
who wanted to drive all Englishmen and Americans
out of the group, and had made up his mind to leave
the Marquesas and settle down again either in Samoa
or Tonga, where he hoped I would join him and forget
how hardly he had used me in the past.

" The gun accident, he wrote, had rendered him all
but blind, and he had engaged a man named Krause,
a German, as mate, and to navigate the Juliette to
Tonga or Samoa. Krause, he said, was a man he did
not like, nor trust ; but as iie was a good sailor-man

289 19

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

and could navigate, he had engaged him, as he could
get no one else at Nukahiva.

" With my father were a party of Marquesan natives
— a chief and his wife and her infant, and two young
men. The schooner's crew were four Dagoes — deserters
from some ship. He did not care about taking them,
but had no choice.

"Some ten days before the German and the crew
came on board, my father secretly took all his money
— S8,ooo in gold — ^and, aided by the Marquesan chief,
made a secure hiding-place for it by removing the skin
in the transoms, and then packing it in oakum and
wedging each package in between the timbers. Then
he carefully relaid the skin, and repainted the whole.
He said, * If any thing happens to me through treachery,
no one will ever discover that money, although they
will get a couple of thousand of Mexican silver dollars
in my chest \

" Well, the/ulieUe sailed, and was never again heard of.

" That brings my story to an end, and if this is the
Juliette^ and the money has not been taken, it is within
six feet of us — there," and he pointed calmly to the
transoms.

Marsh was greatly excited

" We shall soon see, Meredith. But first let me say
that I am sure that this is your father's missing schooner,
and that she is the vessel that thirteen years ago called
at Motumoe, and those who sailed her sent Pautoe on
shore when she was an infant."

Then he hurriedly related the story as told to him
by Mr. Copley.

290

PAUTOE

Meredith nodded. "No doubt the missionary was
right and my father's fears were well-founded. I sup-
pose the German and the Dagoes murdered him and
the four Marquesans. Krause, of course, would know
that my poor father had money on board. And I
daresay that the Dagoes spared the child out of piety —
their Holy Roman consciences wouldn't let 'em cut
the throat of a probably unbaptised child. Now,
Marsh, if you'll clear away the cushions and all the
other gear from the transoms, I'll get an auger and
an axe, and we'll investigate."

Rising from his seat in his usual leisurely manner,
he went on deck, and returned in a few minutes with
a couple of augers, an axe, two wedges, and a heavy
hammer.

Marsh had cleared away the cushions and some
boxes of provisions, and was eagerly awaiting him.

Meredith, first of all, took the axe, and, with the
back of the head, struck the casing of the transoms.

" It's all right. Marsh. Either the money, or some-
thing else is there right enough, I believe. Bore away
on your side."

The two augers were quickly biting away through
the hard wood of the casing, and in less than two
minutes Marsh felt the point of his break through the
inner skin, and then enter something soft; then it
clc^ged, and finally stuck. Reversing the auger, he
withdrew it, and saw that on the end were some threads
of oakum and canvas, which he excitedly showed to
his partner, who nodded, and went on boring in an
unmoved manner, until the point of his auger pene^

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THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

trated the planking, stuck, and then came a sound of
it striking loose metal. The wedges were then driven
in between the planking, and one strip prised off,
and there before them was the money in small canvas
bs^s, each bag parcelled round with oakum, which was
also packed tightly between the skin and timbers,
forming a compact mass.

Removing one bag only, Marsh placed it aside, then
they replaced the plank, plugged the auger holes, and
hid the marks from view by stacking the provision
cases along the transoms.

AH was called below, and told of the discovery.
He, of course, was highly delighted, and his eyes
gleamed when Meredith unfastened the bag, and
poured out a stream of gold coin upon the cabin table.

That night the partners did not sleep. They talked
over their plans for the future, and decided to take
the schooner to San Francisco, sell her, and buy a
larger vessel and a cargo of trade goods. Meredith
was to command, and Tahiti in the Society Group
was to be their headquarters. Here Marsh (with the
faithful Ali and Leota, and, of course, Pautoe) was
to buy land and form a trading station, whilst the
vessel was to cruise throughout the South Seas, trading
for oil, pearl-shell and other island produce.

Soon after daylight the anchor of the Juliette was
lifted and she sailed out of Apia harbour, and by noon,
Leota and Pautoe were astonished to see the little craft
bring-to abreast of Laulii village, and Marsh and Mere-
dith come on shore.

Later on in the day, when the house was free of

^ 292

PAUTOE

the kindly, but somewhat intrusive native visitors, the
partners told the strange story of the Juliette to Leota
and Pautoe, and of their plans for the future.

" Pautoe," said Meredith, " in three years' time will
you marry me, and sail with me in the new ship ? "

" Aye, that will I, Lesta. Did I not say so before ? "

893

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING

The Man Who Knew Everything came to Samoa in
November, when dark days were on the land, and the
nearing Christmas time seemed likely to be as that of
the preceding one, when burning villages and the crackle
of musketry, and the battle cries of opposing factions,
engaged in slaughtering one another, turned the once
restful and beautiful Samoa into a hell of evil passions,
misery and suffering. For the poor King Malietoa was
making a game fight with his scanty and ill-armed
troops against the better-armed rebel forces, who were
supplied, sub rosa, with all the arms and ammunition
they desired by the German commercial agents of
Bismarck, who had impressed upon that statesman the
necessity of making Samoa the base of German trading
enterprise in the South Seas by stirring up rebellion
throughout the group to such an extent that Germany,
under the plea of humanity, would intervene — buy out
the British and American interests, and force the natives
to accept a Grerman protectorate.

At this time the white population of Apia numbered
about two hundred, of whom one half were Germans —

THE MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING

the rest were principally English and Americans. For
two years past a very bitter feeling had existed between
the staff of the great German trading firm, and the
British and American community. The latter had their
places of business in Apia, afid the suburb of Matautu,
the Germans occupied the suburb of Matafele, and
although there was a business intercourse between the
people of the three nationalities, there was absolutely
none of a social character. The British and American
traders and residents were supporters of King Malietoa,
the Germans backed up the rebel party, and the natives
themselves were equally divided into pro-British, and
pro-Germans.

At this time — when the Man Who Knew Everything
arrived in Samoa from New Zealand — I was living on
shore. The vessel in which I was employed as " re-
cruiter" in the Kanaka labour trade was laid up in
Apia harbour. Two months previously we had brought
a cargo of native labourers from the Gilbert Islands to
be indentured to the cotton planters in Samoa, and
finding the country in such a disturbed state, with busi-
ness paralysed, and no further demand for a fresh cargo
of Kanaka " recruits," we decided to pay off most of the
ship's company, and let the brigantine lie up till the
end of the rainy and bad weather season — from the end
of November till March, The skipper and a few of the
native crew remained on board, but I took up my
quarters on shore, at a little Samoan village named
Lelepa — two miles from Apia. Here I was the " pay-
ing guest " of our boatswain — a stalwart native of the
island of Rarotonga. He had sailed with me on several

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THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

vessels during a period of some years ; and on one of
our visits to Apia had married a Samoan girl of a good
family.

Having much spare time on my hands I occupied it
in deep-sea fishing and shooting, and in making boat
voys^es along the coast, visiting a number of native
villages, where I was well-known to the people, who
always made me and my boat's crew very welcome —
for the Samoans are naturally a most hospitable race,
and love visiting and social intercourse. On these ex-
cursions Marama(the native boatswain) and some other
of the ship's crew sometimes came with me ; on other oc-
casions my party would be made up of the two half-caste
sons of the American Consul, two or three Samoans and
myself.

Towards the end of November there arrived from
Auckland (N.Z.) the trading schooner Dauntless. She
brought one passenger whose acquaintance I soon made,
and whom I will call Marchmont. He was a fine, wdl-
set-up young fellow of about five and twenty years of age,
and I was delighted to find that he was a good all-round
sportsman — I could never induce any of the white traders
or merchants of Apia to join me in any of my many
delightful trips. Marchmont was making a tour through
the Pacific Islands, partly on business, and partly on
pleasure. He was visiting the various groups on behalf
of a Liverpool firm, who were buying up land suitable
for cotton-growing, and was to spend two months in
Samoa.

He and I soon made arrangements for a series of
fishing and shooting trips along the south coast of Upolu,

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THE MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING

where the country was quiet, and as yet undisturbed by
the war. But, although Marchmont was a most estim-
able and companionable man in many respects, he had
some serious defects in his character, which, from a
sportsman's point of view, were most objectionable, and
were soon to bring him into trouble. One was that he
was most intensely self-opinionated, and angrily resented
being contradicted — even when he knew he was in the
wrong ; another was his bad temper — ^whenever he did
anything particularly foolish he would not stand a little
good-natured " chaflF" — he either flew into a violent rage
and "said things" or sulked like a boy of ten years of
age. Then, too, another regrettable feature about him
was the fact that he, being a young man of wealth, had
the idea that he should always be deferred to, never
ai^ed with upon any subject, and his advice sought upon
everything pertaining to sport. These unpromising
traits in his character soon got him into hot water, and
before he had been a week in Samoa he was nicknamed
by both whites and natives " Misi Ulu Poto— masani
mea uma," — " Mr. Wise Head — the Man Who Knows
Everything". The term stuck — and Marchmont took
it quite seriously, as a well-deserved compliment to his
abilities.

My new acquaintance, I must mention, had a most ex-
tensive and costly sporting outfit — all of it was certainly
good, but much of it quite useless for such places as
Samoa and other Polynesian Islands. Of rifles and guns
he had about a dozen, with an enormous quantity of
ammunition and fittings, bags, water-proofing, tents,
fishing-boots, spirit stoves, hatchets in leather covers,

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

hunting knives, etc., etc. ; and his fishing gear alone must
have run into a tidy sum of money. This latter especi-
ally interested me, but there was nothing in it that I
would have exchanged for any of my own — that is, for
deep-sea fishing, a sport in which I was always very keen
during a past residence of fifteen years in the South Seas.
When I showed my gear to Marchmont he criticised it
with great cheerfulness and freedom, and somewhat irri-
tated me by frequently ejaculating " Bosh ! " when I ex-
plained why in fishing at a depth of lOO to 1 50 fathoms
for a certain species of Ruvettus (a nocturnal-feeding fish
that attains a weight of over 100 lb.) a heavy wooden
hook was always used by the natives in preference to a
steel hook of European manufacture. I saw that it was
impossible to convince him, so dropped the subject ; and
showed him other gear of mine — flying-fish tackle, barb-
less pearl-shell hooks for bonito, etc., etc He '* bosh-ed ' *
nearly everything, and wound up by saying that he
wondered why people of sense accepted the dicta of
natives in sporting matters generally.

''But I imagine that they do know a little about
such things," I observed.

" Bosh ! — they pretend to, that's alL Now, Fve never
yet met a Kanaka who could show me anything, and
I've been to Tonga, Fiji and Tahiti."

Early one morning, I sent off my whaleboat with
Marama in charge to proceed round the south end of
Upolu, and meet Marchmont and me at a village on the
lee side of the island named Siumu, which is about
eighteen miles distant from, and almost opposite to

298

THE MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING

Apia, across the range that traverses the island. An
hour or so later Marchmont and I set out, accompanied
by two boys to carry our game bags, provisions, etc.
Each of them wore suspended from his neck a large
white cowrie shell — the Samoan badge of neutrality —
for we had to pass first through King Malietoa's lines,
and then through those of the besieging rebel forces.

It was a lovely day, and in half an hour we were in the
delightful gloom of the sweet-smelling mountain forest.
In passing through King Malietoa's trenches, the local
chief of Apia, Se'u Manu, who was in command, re-
quested me to stay and drink kava with him. Politeness
required consent, and we were delayed an hour ; this
made the Man Who Knew Everything very cross and
rather rude, and the stalwart chief (afterwards to become
famous for his magnanimous conduct to his German
foes, when their squadron was destroyed in the great
Calliope gale of March, 1889) looked at him with mild
surprise, wondering at his discourtesy. However, his
temper balanced itself a little while after leaving the
lines, when he brought down a brace of fine pigeons
with a right and left shot, and a few minutes later
knocked over a mountain cock with my Winchester.
It was a very clever shot—for the wild cock of Samoa,
the descendant of the domestic rooster, is a hard bird to
shoot even with a shot gun — and my friend was much
elated. He really was a first-class shot with either
gun or rifle, though he had had but little experience
with the latter.

A few miles farther brought us to the little mountain
village of Tagiamamanono. It was occupied by the

299

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

rebel troops from the Island of Savai'L Their chiefs
were very courteous, and, of course, we were asked to
'^ stay and rest and drink kava ". To refuse would have
been looked upon as boorish and insulting, so I cheer*
fully acquiesced, and Marchmont and I were escorted to
a large house, where I formally presented him to our
hosts as a traveller from ** Peretania," whom I was
" showing around Samoa ". Any man of fine physique
attracts the Samoans, and a number of pretty girls
who were preparing the kava cast many admiring
glances at my friend, and commented audibly on his
good looks.

Presently, as we were all smoking and exchanging
compliments in the high-flown, stilted Samoan style,
there entered the house a strapping young warrior,
carrying a wickerwork cage, in which were two of the
rare and famous Manu Mea (red-bird) of Samoa — the
Didunculus or tooth-billed pigeoa These were the
property of the young chief commanding the rebel
troops, and had simply been brought into the house as
a mark of respect and attention to Marchmont and me.
Money cannot always buy these birds, and the rebel
chief looked upon them as mascottes. No lone but
himself, or the young man who was their custodian,
dared touch them, for a Samoan chiefs property — ^like
his person — is sacred and inviolate from touch except
by persons of higher rank than himself. I hurriedly
and quietly explained this to Marchmont

<' Bosh 1 Look here I You tell him that I want to
buy those birds, and will give him a sovere^ each for
them."

300

THE MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING

'* I shall do no such thing. I know what I am talk-
ing about, and you don't Fifty sovereigns would not
buy those birds — so don't say anything more on the
subject. If you do, you will give offence — and these
Samoans are very touchy."

"Bah — that's all bosh, my dear fellow. Any way,
I'll give five pounds for the pair," and to my horror,
and before I could stay him, he took out five sove-
reigns, and *' skidded " them along the matted floor to-
wards the chief, a particularly irascible young man
named Asi (Sandalwood).

" There, my friend, are five good English sovereigns
for your birds. I suppose I can trust you to send
them to the English Consul at Apia for me. Eh?"

There was a dead silence. Asi spoke English per-
fectly, but hitherto, out of politeness, had only ad-
dressed me in Samoan. His eyes flashed with quick
anger at Marchmont, then he looked at me reproach-
fully, made a sign to the custodian of the birds, and
rising proudly to his feet, said to me in Samoan : —

" I will drink kava with you alone, friend. Will you
come to my own house," and he motioned me to pre-
cede him. Never before had I seen a naturally pas-
sionate man exhibit such a sense of dignity and self-
restraint under what was, to him, a stupid insult.

I turned to Marchmont: "Look what you have
done, confound you for an ass ! If you are beginning
this way in Samoa you will get yourself into no end of
trouble. Have you no sense ? "

*' I have sense enough to see that you are making a
lot of fuss over nothing. Tell the beastly savage that

301

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

he can keep his wretched birds. I would only have
wrung their necks and had them cooked."

The young warrior who held the cage, set it down,
and striding up beside the Man Who Knew Every-
thing dealt him an open-handed back-hand blow on
the side of the head — a favourite trick of Samoan
wrestlers and fighters — ^and Marchmont went down
upon the matted floor with a smash. I thought he
was killed — he lay so motionless — and in an instant
there flashed ^across my memory a story told to me by
a medical missionary in Samoa, of how one of these
terrific back-handed " smacks " dealt by a native had
broken a man's neck.

However, in a few minutes, Marchmont recovered,
and rose to his feet, spoiling for a fight The natives
regarded him with a sullen but assumed indifference,
and drew back, looking at me inquiringly. The matter
might have ended seriously, but for two things —
Marchmont was at heart a gentleman, and in response
to my urgent request to him to apologise for the gross
affront he had put upon our host — did so frankly by
first extending his hand to the man who had knocked
him down. And then, as he never did things by
halves, he came with me to Asi and said, as he shook
hands with him : —

" By Jove, Mr. Asi, that man of yours could knock
down a bullock. I never had such a thundering smack
in my life."

The chief smiled, then said gravely, in English, that
he was sorry that such an unpleasant incident had oc-
curred. Then, after — with its many attendant cere-

30JJ

THE MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING

monies — we had drunk our bowls of kava, and were
smoking and chatting, Asi asked Marchmont to let him
examine his gun and rifle (Marchmont had a Soper rifle
and one of Manton's best make of guns; I had my
Winchester and a fairly good gun). The moment Asi
saw the Soper rifle his eyes lit up, and he produced
another from one of the house beams overhead, and said
r^retfuUy that he had no cartridges left, and was using
a Snider instead. Marchmont promptly offered to give
him fifty.

" You must not do that," I said, " it will get us into
serious trouble. Asi" — and I turned to the chief —
" will understand why we must not give him cartridges
to be used for warfare. It would be a great breach
of faith for us to do so — would it not? "

Keenly anxious as he was to obtain possession of
the ammunition, the chief, with a sigh of regret, ac-
quiesced, but Marchmont sulked, and for quite two hours
after we had left the rebel village did not exchange a
word with me.

After getting over the range, and whilst we were de-
scending the slope to the southern littoral, some mongrel
curs that belonged to our carriers, and' had gone on
ahead of us^ put up a wild sow with seven suckers, and
at once started off" in pursuit. The old, razor-backed
sow doubled and came flying past us, with her nimble-
footed and striped progeny following. Marchmont and
I both fired simultaneously — at the sow. I missed her,
but my charge of No 3 shot tumbled over one of the
piglets, I which was at < her heels, and Marchmonfs Soper
bullet took her in the belly, and passed clean through

303

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

her. But although she went down for a few moments she
was up again like a Jack-in-the-box, and with an angry
squeal scurried along the thick carpet of dead leaves,
and then darted into the buttressed recesses of a great
masdoi (cedar) tree, which was evidently her home,
followed by two or three game mongrels.

Dropping his rifle, Marchmont ran to the trees, seized
the nearest cur by the tail, and slung it away down the
side of the slope, then he kicked the others out of his
way, and kneeling down peered into the dark recess
formed by two of the buttresses.

" Come out of that," I shouted, " you'll get bitten if
you go near her. What are you trying to do? Get
out, and give the dogs a chance to turn her out."

'' Bosh ! Mind your own business. I know what I'm
about. She's lying inside, as dead as a brickbat I'll
have her out in a jiffy," and then his head and shoulders
disappeared — then came a wild, blood-curdling yell of
rage and pain, and the Man Who Knew Everything
backed out with the infuriated sow's teeth deeply im-
bedded into both sides of his right hand ; his left gripped
her by the loose and pendulous skin of her throat One
of the native boys darted to his aid, and with one blow
of his hatchet split open the animal's skulL

" Well, of all the bom idiots " I began, when I

stopped, for I saw that Marchmont's face was very pale,
and that he was suffering excruciating pain. A pig
bite is always dangerous and that which he had sustained
was a serious one. Fortunately, it was bleeding pro-
fusely, and as quickly as possible we procured water,
and thoroughly cleansed, and then bound up his hand.

3*4

THE MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING

As soon as we got to Siumu I hurried to the house of
the one white trader, and was lucky in getting a bottle
of that good old-fashioned remedy — Friar's balsam. I
poured it into a clean basin, and Marchmont unhesitat-
ingly put in his hand, and let it stay there. The agony
was great, and the language that poured from the
patient was of an extremely lurid character. But he had
wonderful grit, and I had to laugh when he began abus-
ing himself for being such an idiot He then allowed
a native woman to cover the entire hand with a
huge poultice, made of the beaten-up pulp of wild
oranges — a splended antiseptic. But it was a week
before he could use his hand again, and his temper was
something abominable. However, we managed to put
in the time very pleasantly by paying a round of visits
to the villages along the coast, and were entertained
and feasted to our heart's content by the natives. Then
followed some days' grand pig hunting and pigeon shoot-
ing in the mountains, amidst some of the most lovely
tropical scenery in the world. Marchmont killed a
grand old tusker, and presented the tusks to the local
chief, who in return gave him a very old kava bowl —
a valuable article to Samoans. He was, as usual, in-
credulous when I told him that it was worth ;£'io, and
that Theodor Weber, the German Consul General, who
was a collector, would be only too glad to get it at that
price.

" What, for that thing ? "

" Yes, for that thing. Quite apart from its size, its
age makes it valuable. I daresay that more than half
a century has passed since the tree from which it was

305 20

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

made was felled by stone axes, and the bowl cut out
from a solid piece." It was fifteen inches high, two feet
in diameter, and the four legs and exterior were black
with age, whilst the interior, from constant use of kava,
was coated with a bright yellow enamel. The labour
of cutting out such a vessel with such implements — it
being, legs and bowl, in one piece — must have taken
long months. Then came the filing down with strips
of shark skin, which had first been softened, and then
allowed to dry and contract over pieces of wood, round
and flat ; then the final polishing with the rough under-
side of wild fig-leaves, and then its final presentation,
with such ceremony, to the chief who had ordered it to
be made.

I explained all this to Marchgiont, and he actually
believed me and did not say " Bosh I "

" I thought that you made a fearfully long-winded
oration on my behalf when the chief gave me the
thii^," he remarked.

" I did. I can tell you, Marchmont, that I should
have felt highly flattered if he had presented it to me.
He seems to have taken a violent fancy to you. But,
for Heaven's sake, don't think that, because he has
been told that you are a rich man, he has any ulterior
motive. And don't, I beg of you, offer him money.
He has a reason for showing his liking for you."

I knew what that reason was. Suisala, the chief of
Siumu, had, from the very first, expressed to me his
admiration of Marchmont's stalwart, athletic figure,
and his fair complexion, and was anxious to confer
on him a very great honour — that of exchanging

306

THE MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING

names. Suisala was of one of the oldest and most
chiefly families in Samoa, and was proud of the fact
that the French navigator Bougainville had taken
especial notice of his grandfather (who was also a
Suisala) and who had been presented with a fowling
piece and ammunition by the French officer. As I
have before mentioned, physical strength and manli-
ness always attract the Samoan mind, and the chief
of Siumu had, as I afterwards explained to March-
mont, fallen a victim to his " &tal beauty ".

One morning, a few days after the presentation of
the tanoa (kava-bowl) to the Man Who Knew Every-
thing, a schooner appeared outside the reef and hove-
to, there being no harbour at Siumu. She was an
American vessel, and had come to buy copra from,
and land goods for, the local trader. There was a
rather heavy sea running on the reef at the time, and
the work of shipping the copra and landing the stores
proved so difficult and tedious that I lent my boat
and crew to help. Unfortunately Marama was laid
up with influenza, so could not take charge of the
boat; I also was on the sick list, with a heavy cold.
However, my crew were to be trusted, and they made
several trips during the morning. Marchmont, after
lunch, wanted to board the schooner, and also offered
to take charge of the boat and crew for the rest of
the day. Knowing that he was not used to surf work,
I declined his offer, but told him he could go off on
board if he did not mind a wetting. He was quite
nettled, and angrily asked me if I thought he could
not take a whaleboat through a bit of surf as well as

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THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

either Marama or myself. I replied frankly that I
did not

He snorted with contempt ^Bosh. Fve taken
boats through surf five times as bad as it is now — ^a
tinker could manage a boat in the little sea that is
running now. You fellows are all alike — ^you think
that you and your natives know everything."

" Oh, then, do as you like," I replied angrily, " but if
you smash that boat it means a loss of ;f 50, and — — "

**Hang your ;fSol* If I hurt your boat, Til pay
for the damage. But don't begin to preach at me."

With great mi^ivings, I saw the boat start off,
manned by eight men, using native paddles, instead of
oars, as was customary in surf work. Marchmont,
certainly, by good luck, managed to get her over the reef,
for I could see that he was quite unused to handling
a steer oar. However, my native crew, by watching
the sea and taking no heed of the steersman, shot the
boat over the reef into deep water beyond. But in
getting alongside the schooner he nearly swamped,
and I was told began abusing my crew for a set d*
blockheads. This, of course, made them sulky — to be
abused for incompetence by an incompetent stranger,
was hard to bear, especially as the men, like all the
natives of their islands (Rotumah and Niue), were
splendid fellows at boat work.

However, the boat at last cast off, and headed for
the shore, and then I saw something that filled me
with wrath. As the lug sail was being hoisted, March-
mont drew in his steer-oar, and shipped the rudder,
and in another minute the boat was bounding over the

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THE MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING

rolling seas at a great rate towards the white breakers
on the reef, but steering so wildly that I foresaw dis-
aster. The crew, in vain, urged Marchmont to ship
the steer-oar again, but he told them to mind their
own business, and sat there, calm and strong, in his
mighty conceit

On came the boat, and we on shore watched her
as she rose stem up to a big comber, then down she
sank from view into the trough, broached to, and the
next roller fell upon and smothered her, and rolled
her over and over into the wild boil of surf on the reef.

The Man Who Knew Everything came off badly,
and was brought on shore full of salt water, and un-
conscious. He had been dashed against the jagged
coral, and from his left thigh down to his foot had
been terribly lacerated; then as the crew swam to
his assistance — ^for his clothing had caught in the coral,
and he was under water and drowning — and brought
him to the surface, the despised steer-oar (perhaps out
of revenge) came hurtling along on a swirling sea, and
the haft of it struck him a fearful blow on the head,
nearly fracturing his skull.

Fearing his injuries would prove fatal, I sent a canoe
off to the schooner with a message to the captain to
come on shore, but the vessel, having finished her busi-
ness, was off under full sail, and did not see the canoe.
Then the trader and I did our best for the poor fellow,
who, as soon as he regedned consciousness, began to
suffer agonies from the poison of the wounds inflicted
by the coral. We sent a runner to Apia for a doctor,
and early next morning one arrived.

309

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

Marchmont was quite a month recovering, and when
he was fully convalescent, he kept his opinions to him-
self, and I think that the lesson he had received did
him good. He afterwards told me that he determined
to sail the boat in with a rudder purely to annoy me,
and was sorry for it

When he was able to get about again as usual, the
devil of restlessness again took possession of him and
he was soon in trouble again — through the bursting of
a gun. I was away from Apia at the time — at the
little island of Manono, buying yams for the ship
which was getting ready for sea again — when I received
a letter from a friend giving me the Apia gossip, and
was not surprised that Marchmont figured therein.

"Your friend Marchmont," so ran the letter, "is
around, as usual, and in great form, though he had a
narrow squeak of having his head blown off last week
through his gun bursting while out pigeon-shooting up
by Lano-to lake. It seems that it was raining at the
time, and the track down the mountain to the lake was
very slippery. He had Johnny Coe the half-caste, and
two Samoans with him. Was carrying his gun under his
arm and going down the track in his usual careless,
cock-a-hoopy style when he tripped over a root of a
tree and went downifiat on his face, into the red slippery
soil. He picked himself up again quick enough, and
began swearing at the top of his voice, when a lot of
ducks rose from the lake and came dead on towards
him. Without waiting to see if his gun was all right,
although it was covered with mud, he pulled the

310

THE MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING

trigger of his right barrel, and it burst; one of the
fragments gave him a nasty jagged wound on the chin
and the Samoan buck got a lot of small splinters in his
face. After the idiot had pulled himself together he
examined his gun and foimd that the left barrel was
plugged up with hard red earth. No doubt the other
one had also been choked up, for Johnny Coe said that
when he fell the muzzle of the gun was rammed some
inches into the ground."

When I returned to Apia with. a cutter load of yams,
I called on Marchmont and found him his old self. He
casually mentioned his mishap and cursed the greasy
mountain track as the cause. At the same time he told
me that he was b^inning to like the country and that
the natives were "not a bad lot of fellows — if you know
how to take 'em ".

Then came his final exploit.

There is, in the waters of the Pacific Isles, a species
of the trevalli, or rudder fish, which attains an enor-
mous size and weight. It is a good eating fish, like
all the trevalli tribe, and much thought of by both
Europeans and natives, for, being an exceedingly wary
fish, it is not often caught, at least in Samoa. In the
Live Islands, where it is more common, it is called
La'keUy and in Fiji Sanka, One evening Lama, one
of the Coe half-caste boys, and I succeeded in hook-
ing and capturing one of these fish, weighing a little
over loo lb. In the morning the Man Who Knew
Everything came to look at it, was much interested,
and said he would have a try for one himself after
lunch.

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

"No use tiying in clear daylight," I said; ''after
dusk, at night (if not moonlight), or before daybreak is
the time/'

" Bosh ! " was his acidulous comment ** IVe caught
the same fish in New Zealand in broad dayl^ht" I
shook my head, knowing that he was wrong. He be-
came angry, and remarked that he had found that all
white men who had lived in foreign countries for a few
years accepted the rubbishy dictum of natives r^;ard-
ing sporting matters of any kind as infallible. Refus-
ing to show me the tackle he intended using, at two
o'clock he hired a native canoe, and paddled off alone
into Apia Harbour. Then he b^^an to fish for La*Aeu,
using a mullet as bait In five minutes he was fast to a
good-sized and lusty shark, which promptly upset the
canoe, went off with the line and left him to swim.
The officer of the deck of the French gunboat Vaud-
reuil, then lying in the port, sent a boat and picked him
up. This annoyed him greatly, as he wanted, like an
idiot, to swim on shore — a thing that a native would
not always care to do in a shark-infested place like Apia
Harbour, especially during the rainy season (as it then
was), when the dreaded tanifa sharks come into all
bays or ports into which rivers or streams debouch.

That evening, however, Marchmont condescended to
look at the tackle I used for Ldheu^ said it was clumsy,
and only fit for sharks, but, on the whole, there were
" some good ideas " about it ; also that he would have
another try that night I suggested that either one of
the Coe lads or Lama should go with him, to which he
said " Bosh I " Then, after sunset, I sent some of my

3x3

THE MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING

boaf s-crew to catch flying-fish for bait. They brought
a couple of dozen, and I told Marchmont that he should
bait with a whole flying-fish, make his line ready for
casting, and then throw over some " hurley " — ^half a
dozen flying-fish chopped into small pieces. He would
not show me the tackle he intended using, so I was
quite in the dark as to what manner of gear it was.
But I ascertained later on that it was good and strong
enough to hold any deep sea fish, and the hook was of
the right sort — ^a six-inch flatted, with curved shank,
and swivel mounted on to three feet of fine twisted
steel seizing wire. My obstinate friend had a keen eye,
even when he was most disparaging in his remarks,
and had copied my Ldheu tackle most successfully,
although he had ^' bosh-ed " it when I first showed it
to him.

Refusing to let any one accompany him, although
the local pilot candidly informed him that he was a
dunderhead to go fishing alone at night in Apia Hai^
hour, Marchmont started ofl* about 2 A.M. in an ordin-
ary native canoe, meant to hold not more than three
persons when in smooth water. It was a calm night,
but rainy, and the crew of the French gunboat noticed
him fishing near the ship about 2.30. A little while
after, the officer of the watch saw a heavy rain squall
coming down from the mountain gorges, and good-
naturedly called out to the fisherman to either come
alongside or paddle ashore, to avoid being swamped.
The clever man replied in French, somewhat un-
graciously, that he could quite well look after himself.
A little after 3 A.M. the squall ceased, and as neither

3x3

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

Marchmont nor the canoe was visible, the French
sailors concluded that he had taken their officer^s ad-
vice and gone on shore.

About seven o'clock in the morning, as I was bath-
ing in the little river that runs into Apia Harbour, a
native servant girl of the local resident medical mis-
sionary came to the bank and called to me, and told
me a startling story. My obstinate friend had been
picked up at sea, four miles from Apia Harbour, by a
tautnucUua (native-built whaleboat). He was in a state
of exhaustion and collapse, and when brought into Apia
was more dead than alive, and the doctor was quickly
summoned I at once went to see him, but was not
admitted to his room, and for three days he had to lie
up, suffering from shock — and, I trust, a feeling of
humility for being such an obstinate blockhead.

His story was simple enough : During the heavy
rain squall his bait was taken by some large and power-
ful fish (he maintained that it was a LdheUy though
most probably it was a shark), and thirty or forty 3rards
of line flew out before he could get the pull of it.
When he did, he foolishly made the loose part fast to
the canoe seat amidships, and the canoe promptly cap-
sized, and the fore end of the outrider unshipped.
Clinging to the side of the frail craft, he shouted to the
gunboat for help, but no one heard in the noise of the
wind and heavy rain, and in ten minutes he found him-
self in the passage between the reefs, and rapidly being
towed out to sea. He tried to sever the line by biting
it through (he had lost his knife), but only succeeded in
losing a tooth. Then^ as the canoe was being dragged

3x4

THE MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING

through the water broadside on, a heavy sea submerged
her and the line parted, the shark or whatever it was
going oflF. Never losing his pluck, he tried in the dark-
ness to secure the loose end of the outrigger, but failed,
owing to the heavy, lumpy seas. Then for two anxious,
miserable hours he clung to the canoe, expecting every
moment to find himself minus his legs by the jaws of a
shark, and when sighted and picked up by the native
boat he was barely conscious.

He learnt a lesson that did him good. He never
again went out alone in a canoe at night, and for many
days after his recovery he never uttered the word
" Bosh 1 "

315

CHAPTER XXIX

THE PATTERING OF THE MULLET

It is a night of myriad stars, shining from a dome of
deepest blue. The lofty, white-barked swamp gums
stand silent and ghost-like on the river's bank, and the
river itself is almost as silent as it flows to meet the
roaring surf on the bar of the rock-bound coast fifteen
miles away, where when the south-east wind blows
lustily by day and dies away at night the long billows
of the blue Pacific roll on unceasingly.

Overhead, far up in the topmost boughs of one of
the giant gums some opossums squeal angrily at an
intruding native bear, which, like themselves, has
climbed to feed upon the young and tender eucalyptus
leaves. Below, a prowling dingo steals slowly over the
thick carpet of leaves, then sitting on his haunches
gazes at the prone figures of two men stretched out
upon their blankets at the foot of the great tree. His
green, hungry eyes have discerned a pair of saddle-bags
and his keen nostrils tell him that therein are salt beef
and damper. He sinks gently down upon the yielding
leaves and for a minute watches the motionless forms ;
then he rises and creeps, creeps along. A horse bell
tinkles from beyond the scrub and in an instant the

316

THE PATTERING OF THE MULLET

wild dog lies flat again. Did he not see one of the
men move ? No, all is quiet, and once more he creeps
forward. Then from beneath the tree there comes a
flash and a report and a bullet flies and the night prowler
leaps in the air with a snarling yelp and falls writhing
in his death agony, as from the sand flats in the river
arises the clamour of startled wild fowl and the rush
and whirr of a thousand wings. Then silence again,
save for the long-drawn wail of a curlew.

One of the men rises, kicks tc^ther the dying camp
fire and throws on a handful of sticks and leaves. It
blazes up and a long spear of light shoots waveringly
across the smooth current of the river.

"Get him, Harry?'' sleepily asks his companion as
he sits up and feels for his pipe.

" Yes — couldn't miss him. He's lying there. Great
Scott I Didn't he jump."

"Poor b^gar — smelt the tucker, I suppose. Well,
better a dead dog than a torn saddle-bag. Hear the
horses ? "

** Yes, they're all right — feeding outside the timber
belt How's the time, Ted ? "

" Three o'clock. What a deuce of a row those duck
and plover kicked up when you fired I We ought to
get a shot or two at them when daylight comes."

" Harry," a big, bearded fellow of six feet, nodded
as he lit his pipe.

"Yes, we ought to get all we want up along the
blind creeks, and we'll have to shift camp soon. It's
going to rain before daybreak, and we might as well
stay here over to-morrow and give the horses a spell."

3x7

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH
" It's clouding over a bit, but I don't think it means

rain.

" I do. Listen/' and he held up his hand towards
the river.

His companion listened, and a low and curious
sound — like rain and yet not like rain — a gentle and
incessant pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, then a break for
a few seconds, then again, sometimes sounding loud
and near, at others faintly and far away.

*' Sounds like a thousand people knockin' their finger
nails on tables. Why, it must be rainin' somewhere
close to on the river."

" No, it's the pattering of mullet, heading up the river —
thousands, tens of thousands, aye hundreds of thousanda
It is a sure sign of heavy rain. We'll see them presently
when they come abreast of us. That queer lip^ lap^ lip^
lap you hear is made by their tails. They sail along
with heads well up out of the water — ^the blacks tell me
that they smell the coming rain — then swim on an even
keel for perhaps twenty yards or so, and the upper lobe
of their tails keeps a constant flapping on the water.
You know how clearly you can hear the flip of a single
fish's tail in a pond on a quiet night ? Well, to-night you'll
hear the sound of fifty thousand. Once, when I was
prospecting in the Shoalhaven River district I camped
with some net fishermen near the Heads. It was a calm,
quiet night like this, and something awakened me It
sounded like heavy rain falling on big leaves. ' Is it
raining, mate ? ' I said to one of the fishermen. * No,'
he replied, * but there's a heavy thunderstorm gathering ;
and that noise you hear is mullet coming up from the

318

;

THE PATTERING OF THE MULLET

Heads, three miles away.' That was the first time I
ever saw fish packed so closely together — it was a
wonderful sight, and when they began to pass us they
stretched in a solid line almost across the river and the
noise they made was deafening. But we must hurry up,
lad, shift our traps a bit back into the scrub and up with
the tent. Then we'll come back and have a look at the
fish, and get some for breakfast"

The two hardy prospectors (for such they were) were
old and experienced bushmen, and soon had their tent
up, and their saddles, blankets and guns and provisions
under its shelter, just as the first low muttering of thunder
hushed the squealing opossums overhead into silence.
But, as it died away, the noise of the myriad mullet
sounded nearer and nearer as they swam steadily onward
up the river.

Ten minutes passed, and then a heavy thunder-clap
shook the mighty trees and echoed and re-echoed among
the spurs and gullies of the coastal range twenty miles
away ; another and another, and from the now leaden
sky the rain fell in torrents and continued to pour un-
ceasingly for an hour. Inside the tent the men sat and
smok^ and waited. Then the downfall ceased with a
" snap," the sky cleared as if by magic, revealing the
stars now paling before the coming dawn, and the cries
of birds resounded through the dripping bush.

Picking up a prospecting dish the elder man told his
'' mate " that it was time to start. Louder than ever
now sounded the noise made by the densely packed
masses of fish, and as the rays of the rising sun, aided
by a gentle air, dispelled the river mist, the younger

319

THE CALL OF THE SOUTH

man gave a gasp <^ astonishment when they reached the
bank and he looked down — ^from shore to shore the
water was agitated and churned into foam showii^ a
broad sheet of flapping fins and tails and silvery scales.
So close were the fish to the bank and so overcrowded
that hundreds stranded upon the sand

The big man stepped down, picked up a dozen and
put them into the dish ; then he and his companion sat
on the bank and watched the passage of the thousands
till the last of them had rounded a bend of the river
and tlie waters flowed silently once more.

THE ABBKDBBN UNIVERSITY PRBSS LIMITED.

320

JOHN MILNE, Poblislicr

The Quest tf the Antiqoe

BEING SOME PERSONAL EXPERIENCES
IN THE FINDING OF OLD FURNITURE

Robert & Elizabeth Shackleton

tUusiraUd with 44 Pkoii^grapks, ami a ProiUispuu

in Colour; Chapter Neadtngi and Decorations

by HARRY FBNN.

Demy Svo^ 425 pp.^ 10s. 6d. net.

TheQtfcst

p( the • •
Antique «

This is not a book to appeal only to
lovers of Old Furniture, but it is a work
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have never fallen under the spell of the
charming and stately Furniture of the
Fast.

The two who write this unusual book
inherited a kettle, bought a pair of candlesticks, and were
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upon the enthusiastic pursuit of the walnut, the brass and
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The story of what they found and their experiences in the
finding, of the quaint old houses which, as circumstances
permitted, they made their home, is all told with rare
charm. In addition, the book is rid) in reliable informa-
tion concerning Antique Furniture of every kind and in
helpful hints for others, both as regards buying and taste.

29,

Street, London, W.C*

JOHN MILNE, Pttblither

The Last of Her Race

A STIRRING STORY OP THE
SPANISH SUCCESSION

J. BLOUNDELLE-BURTON

Aytharof " The Hispaniola Plate," *' Tkg Clask pfArmsr
** The Sword 0/ Gideon " etc.

Crown 8vOy cloth, 6s.

The scene of this story is laid in Spain

#|w * . daring the romantic period of the

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KACC • « Soccession. The hero is an officer of

the Royal Dragoons, and the heroine,
round whom centres the whole of the plot and passion
of the story, a handsome giri of illustrious rank and
position. The nobility of her nature, in conflict with
her stem unbending Spanish ideas of punishing treachery,
while never permitting herself to perform an unjust or
treacherous act, furnishes the motif of the romance,
while Mr. Blounddle-Burton's knowledge of the country
and its customs is a guarantee for the accuracy of the
local colour.

29f Henrietta Street^ London^ W*C*

JOHN MILNE» P^iUlsher

Irene of the Ringlets

A REAL STAGE STORY

HORACE WYNDHAM

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ifCHt of

the • •

Mr. Horace Wyndham is an author
who has devoted parttcnlar attcntkm to
the stage world. His prenous noveb
on this subject have achieyed wdl*
deserved and wide-spread popii]arity»
and this» his latest book* may be oon-
fidcntly described as a distinct advance. Mr. Horace
Wyndham has studied the stage not only from the stalls,
but also from the business side of the curtain. For some
years he was connected with the managerial department
of three of the leading West End theatres, and has also
toured the provinces. He is thus thoroughly acquainted
with the mysterious land that Hes bdbind the footlights,
and that eierases such an irresistible ftsdnation over
every class of sodety nowadays.

29f Hcofictte Stfcctf L oodoo» w^^C*

JOHN MILNE, PoUisher

The Call of the South

LIFE IN THE SOUTHERN PACIFIC

LOUIS BECKE

Author 0f Helen Adair,'* *' Rodman the Boatsieerer,"
"By Reef and Palm;* etc.

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Mr. Louis Becke has a worid-wide
T hif Otll • Feputation as a writor of stiiring aad
of the * • &9ctnating stories of the wild South
5<xit{| • « Seas, and the readers of his f<»mer

books will find that in "The Call of
the South" he has lost none of his great descriptive
powers of telling, in moving though simple language, a
story vibrating with interest from beginning to end.

The present volume is rich in unique experiences and
adventures among strange people, in strange lands,
written as only he can writei

29^ Henrietta Street, Loocba, W*C.

JOHN MILNE, Pttblishet

The Moth & The Flame

ALICE MAUD MEADOWS

AuiM^r a/ "A Atillion of Money:* " / Charg€ you Both,"

" Cut iy Society" eU.

Crown 8vOy cloth, 68.

HieMoth
and the •
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A novd of the emotions, dealini^
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and a seemingty cold-blooded £nglish-
woman.
Humour is not absent from this book, and the mysteiy
of a cruel murder is kept up almost to the last page.
Once taken up it is doubtful if the reader will be able to
lay it down until the whole story has been read. It has
been said of Miss Alice Maud Meadows that she is n^idly
taking the place so long filled by Mrs. Heniy Wood and
Miss Braddon. Be that as it may, she is veiy n4>idly
making headway, and is a great favourite with the reading
public.

79 f Henrietta Street^ London, W«C

JOHN MILNE, PuUlther

The Half-Smart Set

FLORENCE WARDEN

Auikor of**Tki House on tke Marsh," €U,

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Tliis is a atoiy of Hfe in that tectioa of
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i^ypeal to the reader as real human beings, and not as
the marionettes of the nsoal society novel, who qpeak
only in epigrams and hve in an impossible atmoqphere of
8ti£F formality •

The scene, natorsHy bud mostly in London, is
brightly varied by week-ends with the Half-Smart Set
and a trip to the Continent, and contrasted with the
famndrum existence of a small provincial town«

29, Heorfena Street, Loadon, W«C*

JOHN MILNE, PuUitlicf

"I Little Knew— I"

A ROMANCE OP A NEW FOUND LIFE

MAY CROMMELIN

AuOtoraf "Partners Tkrte;' " Half Round tlu World Jor

a Hustand,'* etc.

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""I little.

Here is an nonsnal lieraine» for though
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heiress of an impoverished fiunily.
The memory of the great love of her
life, sacrificed for a sister's sake, still glows nndcr the
ashes. Starting cheerily on a soUtary voyage round the
vrorld, before resigning herself to old age and increasing
loneliness, she <' little knows '* that in distant Japan she
win chance on a secret— a secret vitally conocniing
hersd^ which finally brings her again into life's mid-
arena, with new tasks, new interests, and their attendant
soirows.

79f Hciific4tA Stfcetf Londoot W^*C«

JOHN MILNE» Pttblitlier

The Lost Angel

KATHARINE TYNAN

Aviharvf
" Tk» W%y ^ a Maid;' " TJu AdoaUurts of AlieUr eU.

Crown 8vo, clothi 69.

Mrs. Hinkaon's work as a short story
«-^ . writer is well known. Like her kmg

A nc AXiSf « story work it is concerned with simple
Angel • • romantic happenings.

The simple love story is now out of
fashion, and these stories, ^diich aim at the pnrdy
romantic, and are not concerned with problems of the
seamy side of life, ought to command a large avdience.
No one need keep Mrs. Hinkaon's books in the locked
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is no use for that article of fnmiture.

Mrs. Hinkaon's ontlook on life is optimistic. A reviewer
recently conunended a book of hers to be taken at bed-
time because it sent one to bed in a hxppy frame of mind.
The atmosphere of her books is entirely a happy one.

79 f Henrietta Stieet^ Londont W*C*

JOHN MILNE» Poblisher

The Gentle Thespians

A COMEDY MASQUERADE
BY

R MURRAY GILCHRIST

.•— ••

AfUfwr 9f Tk9 Courtesy Dam»:' '' Lords and LadUs,
" Begg€u*s Manor** etc.

This book, full of happiness and
«T*« warmth, is a fascinating stoiy of a

* * daring masquerade by a conntess and
Gentle • her friends.

TheqrfailS The Countess of Scudamore was at

one time a cdebrated actress ; early in
her widowhood the renewal of an old acquaintance
brings back the desire to return for a moment to former
associations.

It is all comedy— -comedy played in sunlight and in
moonlight. Such melancholy as does appear is only
pretty play.

The delicate style depicting a dainty vagabondage
suggests the French art of the i8th Century; in fact,
the scenes from beginning to end remind the reader of
Fragouard himself.

29^ Henrietta Street^ London* W*C.

JOHN MILNE, FtoUhfier

The

Lad; Mary of Tavistock

A ROMANCE OP DEVONSHIRE IN
THE XTth CENTURY

HAROLD VALLINGS

•I

Amtktr ^ '*By Duivenomit WaUrr "PauUiU iBsUm,

**A PanmaiB^.**

Crown 8vO| cloth, €9.

Mr. Vallings has here written a
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VLuY of • historic reference, picturesqadj
TaTiltock* conveying the atmosphere of the

times. The Lady Mary and her
husband. Sir Richard Grenville, besides others
mentioned in the tale, are real characters and
genuine studies from history.

Dramatic and striking situations, and the plot,
growing in intensity as the tale proceeds, hold
the reader interested right through to a startling
and unexpected ddnauement,

79f Hcofletta Stfcctf Mjooaonkf w^*G*

JOHN MILNE, PubOabtt

Forthcoming Six Shilling Novels

I » I

The Love That Kills

CoRALiE Stanton & Heath Hosken

Authors rf" A Widow iy Choice:' etc.

Crown 8vo, cloth.

Further partlGuImn will abortty he mnnottoced
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EDWIN POGH

Author of ** Tony Drum^^ " The Man of Straw,''
" The Spoiiers:* eU,

Mrs. COULSON KERNAHAN

Author of **An Unwise Virgin,*' '*An Artitt*s

rgti
Model;' « The Mystery of Magdalen," etc.

JAMES BLYTH

Author of **The Same Clay," « Celibate Sarah,"
etc.

FERGUS HUME

Author of *< The Mystery of a Hansom Cab," etc.

79 f Henrietta Street^ Loodon^ W*C«

JOHN MILNE, IVAIiAet

Milne's Sixpenny Novels

Mks. CAMPBELL PRAED

ittrtAor of **Nyriar »My AustnUioH GffMoorf,"
"Mn, Trn^Mkitt,'* etc.

TIk Lest Heir

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A Wilful Weipap

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Helep Adair

LOUIS BECKE

Author of "Tht Call of the South,** **By Reef emd

Palm,'* etc.

Tl^e Ceartesy Daipe

R. MURRAY GILCHRIST

Author of "Beggars Manor » ** Lords and Ladies"
**A Peakland Faggot," etc

Demy 8vo, paper covers, 6d. each.

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Full text of "The Call of the South"

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