Chapter 5

For Walter Stoddard Esq.,—One Mango—With the fond love of theinhabitants of Eromango.

For Walter Stoddard Esq.,—One Mango—With the fond love of theinhabitants of Eromango.

(This is gathered, with a spoon, from the finestmango swamp in the island. But beware of thefate of the martyr Williams, who died fromtrying to eat one with too short a spoon.O mango and do likewise.)

(This is gathered, with a spoon, from the finestmango swamp in the island. But beware of thefate of the martyr Williams, who died fromtrying to eat one with too short a spoon.O mango and do likewise.)

To make the presentation scene more impressive, I made a pair of false eyes to be worn like spectaclesby hooking wire round the edges of a very large pair of green cat's-eye opercula, which Mr. Henderson donned at the appearance of the pumpkin. The parcel was brought in at dinner by the chief steward with the assurance that it had come off in a boat from Eromango, sent by the people of the island. Anything more truly diabolical than the expression of the cat's-eyes cannot be well conceived. I chose very clear, dark ones, with a well-marked white ring on one side, which I made the upper, so that the eyes were apparently starting from their sockets with fiendish surprise and malevolence.

25th.—Mare Island, Loyalty group; lay off the Sarcelle passage all night, about forty-five miles from Noumea, our first civilised port and the last we shall make until we reach the end of our cruise at Sydney. A large, most strange, and picturesque island. At first sight it seemed only desolate cliffs and terraces. Here and there at wide intervals a tree, very tall and close-growing, stood up straight like a needle. As we drew nearer, however, enchanting little bays began to open up. We could make out groves of cocoa-palms and the needle trees clustered together, making a curious edging to the cliffs. In one of these bays was the mission station; we could see the white wooden housesmothered in trees, the plantation of palms following the indentations of the shore-line, and stretching far back to the white and coloured cliffs that ran up into the precipitous hills. In a niche on a cliff side was a great statue of the Virgin, dazzling white in the sun. Before the mission house ran a broad, smooth beach. We could distinguish many people standing there, and a fine large boat.

26th.—At half past one, Noumea. A succession of the most lovely bays began to open up as we steamed nearer. The surf runs out some forty miles and is studded with small islands, some like little hills rising from the sea, and some miniature low islands fringed with cocoa-palms. We all don the clothes of civilisation to go on shore, looking very strange to each other.

FOOTNOTES:[1]We had met the Hawaiian missionary Maka and his wife Mary on our second South Sea cruise at Butaritari, one of the low islands belonging to the Kingsmill group. Maka and his wife being away at the time, by the advice of the resident trader we had burglariously entered and taken possession of the missionaries' comfortable little wooden house, where we made ourselves at home while we complacently awaited the arrival of our involuntary host. Having thus identified ourselves with the missionary party, and laid ourselves under such heavy obligations to them, we felt bound to forego many amusements and friendships, otherwise interesting, that would have been objectionable to Maka. However, during the time of the great festival, when the neighbouring islanders of Little Makin (called by the traders "Little Muggin") came over, in answer to a challenge from the Butaritaris to dance against them for what sportsmen would call "the championship," Maka retired into discreet obscurity, giving us an opportunity to become acquainted with the King of Little Makin and to attend the heathen dances. But Maka and Mary remained our most real friends in spite of our momentary defection toward Makin. When we left Butaritari we could find nothing suitable to offer them as parting gifts, in the island fashion, and to show our gratitude for their many almost overwhelming kindnesses; hence the silk dress and clergyman's frock coat. Two other friends, consistent converts to Christianity, to whom we also carried presents, we left behind us with regret, Nan Tok and his wife; but they were of a different sort from Maka and Mary, being natives of Butaritari and, from Maka's point of view, quite uncivilised, as, in ordinary life the lady (there are onlyladiesin the South Seas, woman being a word that is tapu in all society, high or low), a rich, high chief woman, wore theridionly, while for full dress she appeared in a white chemise fresh from the trader's shelves with the marks where it had been folded still showing. My first meeting with Nan Tok and his wife was rather alarming. The King had raised the tapu from drink, consequently, the entire island, including his dull majesty, was wildly drunk on "sour toddy" (the fermented sap of the flower-stalk of the cocoanut), which is the most dangerous intoxicant in the world, as it incites in its users a frenzied desire to shed blood. During this period of licence I accidentally came upon two women fighting together like wild beasts, their teeth sunk into each other's faces, which were streaming blood. "Oh, what is the matter?" I cried. "Sour toddy," replied the woman to whom I spoke, casting a contemptuous glance over her shoulder as she passed on.In the circumstances it was thought unsafe for me to leave our own small premises, but one quiet afternoon I broke bounds and went over to the weather side of the island to hunt for shells. Here a strange man and woman joined me; they were not reassuring companions, judging from outer appearances, as they were unkempt, clad in nothing but a small fragment, each, of dirty, old gunny sack, and their faces were haggard and anxious. At first they walked with me as I went about my business of gathering shells, but presently, seeming to tire of this amusement, they began to crowd me off the beach toward the land; then seizing me by the arms, one on either side, they boldly marched me into a narrow, crooked path that led through the clustering cocoanut-trees with which the island was heavily wooded. As I reluctantly moved along beside my captors, the lady, evidently with a kindly feeling for my comfort, drew a clay pipe from out an enormous hole in her ear, stuffed it with strong, coarse tobacco, lighted it, puffed a moment, and then placed it in my mouth. As I could not guess whether their intentions were hostile or otherwise and all the warnings I had received flashed through my mind, with sublime courage I accepted the situation. But it was a solemn experience. We emerged from the palms to find the town in a turbulent uproar, the street in front of our house filled with a howling, fighting, drunken mob. It was a great relief to find we were just in front of my own door; the two natives held me fast until we were safely on the little veranda, when, to my astonishment, the man fell on his knees and offered up a fervent prayer.So began our friendship with Nan Tok and his wife (my husband always called them the "baron and baroness"). They told us afterward with what anxiety they had watched me wander through the woods alone; then how, after a heated argument as to the proper means to pursue, they concluded to force me back to safety. The incident of the pipe was an attempt to conciliate me because of a supposed fiery gleam in my eyes that disconcerted them. The prayer was one of thanks for the outcome of their adventure and a petition that this should prove the beginning of a new friendship that should be blessed to us all.[2]This flag was designed on a former cruise after we had left Apemama, the principal of the three islands comprising the group under King Tembinoka, the last of the absolute monarchs of the South Seas. The King had asked that we send him a flag, so one evening, on board the schoonerEquator, we each drew and coloured a flag. These were voted on by the ship's company. It happened that mine was unanimously chosen. The three cross-bars, red, yellow, and green, were intended to stand for the three islands, while the black shark lying across the bars was meant to be typical of Tembinoka's ancestry. The King's line was not lost in obscurity; he gave us almost embarrassing details of the first of his forebears, who sprang from a liaison between a beautiful lady and a shark. The drawings I made on theEquatorwere taken to a firm in Sydney that did such work; they turned out a couple of very gorgeous flags that were quite to the taste of his majesty. The house flag had a white crown over the head of the shark (a little different shape from that on the island flag). I chose for the motto "I bite triply," which referred not only to the King's three islands, but to the three rows of teeth peculiar to the shark.[3]Very few flowers are found in the atolls, wherefore the natives, who use wreaths for every festive occasion, are forced to devise all sorts of makeshifts for the garlands that are considered almost necessities. I have seen only two flowers that seem indigenous to the true atoll, one quite insignificant, that looked like the blossom of the malepapaia, the other a sort of "spider lily"; both these were of a whitish colour, and, as far as I could see, were worn only by people of position, and not by the common herd, who contented themselves with imitations made from some part of the cocoanut-tree. I wish those artistic souls, who so scorned my purchases at the milliner's, could have seen with what frantic joy they were received. Many times staid matrons burst into sudden hysterical weeping when I offered them my wreaths, while kings, chiefs, and even white traders intrigued to gain one of these coveted possessions.[4]As all mine and most of Louis's were burned, except what I had on my feet, I wished to preserve these for such times as it might seem necessary to make a civilised appearance.[5]He used this afterward, but as it seems to belong to my diary I thought I might let it stand.[6]Sitione was suffering from the effects of an old wound got in the last wars, some of the bones in his shoulder being shattered; they were finally removed, and Sitione recovered entirely with only a scar or two to show where the doctor had operated. Sitione, I was told, received this wound while doing a very brave and dashing act. During one of the many Samoan wars his party had fallen back a short distance, leaving an open space between them and the enemy; in this opening Sitione perceived that a friend of his had fallen and was unable to arise. The enemy were already rushing forward to take the man's head, as is their custom, when Sitione bounded back in the face of their guns, caught up his friend, and brought him into safety with a hail of bullets whizzing after him, and a shattered shoulder.[7]The "labour boys" do, sometimes, die of homesickness. A black boy called Arriki whom we hired from the German firm, did so die after we left Samoa. The man to whom he was assigned by the German firm told me that both Arriki and a friend of his began to droop and become sullen, and then went quite mad; soon after they died at about the same time from no apparent disease, but he said he knew the symptoms—"just plain homesickness for a cannibal island." Arriki, in a moment of confidence, once described to me his life in his own land. It seemed to consist of flight from one unsafe spot to another, with death hunting on every hand. Both his father and mother had been killed and eaten, with the most of his friends; and yet Arriki died of homesickness.[8]We forgot it on the nineteenth, which was the real anniversary, but thought there would be no harm in a belated celebration.[9]Two somewhat picturesque desperadoes of the South Seas, now dead fortunately for the rest of the world.[10]We made a former cruise, our second, in theEquator, a little trading schooner.[11]This must have been a high-low island, though in many atolls the earth is brought in schooner loads in which trees and flowers flourish.[12]Theridiis the only garment worn by the women in most of the atolls. It is a thick fringe, shorter or longer, according to the prevailing fashion inridis, made of pandanus leaves cut in strips, oiled, and smoked. In the Gilberts a man may not lay his hands on aridiunder penalty of death, even when the garment is not in active service.[13]At this island I remember that the women wore what looked like doll's hats as ornaments on their heads. They were about the size of the top of a tumbler.[14]When we were accidentally marooned at Apemama during a former cruise.[15]It seems easier to explain our relation with Tembinoka, King of Apemama, at whose island I hoped we would call, by giving an extract from a former diary written on the trading schoonerEquator:We have been now about a month on the island of the redoubtable Tembinoka, an absolute monarch, who holds the lives of his subjects (our own also) in the hollow of his hand. He says: "I kill plenty men, him 'praid (afraid) now. I no kill any more." That he does not mean to kill any more his subjects do not believe, nor I, quite, myself. He once shot five men, one after another, as they sat in a "moniap" (native house) where they had been brought to be examined by him concerning some breach of his laws. There were seven men in all, but two escaped and are still at large in another island. He says his father had a head house where he hung up the decapitated heads of his enemies—or in other words, people who differed in their opinion from him or whom he did not like (a friend of ours afterward saw thismoniapwith its grisly decoration of skulls). No missionaries and no white people are allowed on Tembinoka's islands (he rules over three) with the exception of Johnny, an inoffensive, dying "poor white," who lives some four miles from the village. We did not know in the least whether we should be allowed to remain, and waited with some anxiety for the appearance of his Majesty. In the meantime the whole ship was in a commotion, scouring the decks and getting everything into apple-pie order. I did not know that theEquatorcould be brought to such a pitch of cleanliness. Finally the King's steps arrived, were made fast to the sides, and the royal boat was seen to put out. We thought it more dignified to remain in the cabin and show none of the curiosity we felt concerning this very remarkable man. We had been told that he was grossly stout, and that was all the description we had been able to get from the stupid people we had talked with; consequently, we were not prepared to meet the most magnificently royal personage that it has yet been our lot to behold, a gentleman by nature and a king every inch of him. He gave us a long and careful study; afterward he said it was first the eyes and then the mouth he judged by. We passed muster, Louis's eyes being specially commended, and were told to come ashore and remain as long as we liked as his guests. The next day we chose a spot where we thought it would be pleasant to live, and Tembinoka ordered his men to carry houses and set them up there for us. The captain and Lloyd stayed at the King's palace all night; the next morning they were alarmed to see Tembinoka shooting into the village with a rifle. He explained that his men were lazy and should be at work, so he was reminding them that accidents were possible. The whole trembling village set to work like bees, and by the time I came over, one sleeping house was up, a little thatched bird-cage with flaps on all sides to raise or lower as one likes, and an opensided cook house for Ah Foo (a Chinese servant we brought from the Marquesas). The King sat on a mat and directed proceedings. He motioned me to sit beside him and asked for a cigarette, of which he is very fond. Whenever a native has to pass the King, or come near him for any purpose, he must crouch and crawl; even his Majesty's own sister did so when she came to join our party.We have had a little ripple of excitement on the usually smooth current of our existence. To go back to the beginning: Soon after we were settled in "Equator town," as we call our hamlet, the King proposed sending the royal cook to learn from Ah Foo. The man was an insolent, handsome fellow, with no intention of either learning or working, and either lay on the floor of the kitchen or squatted smoking, while Ah Foo, who was in mortal terror of Tembinoka, prepared the dishes which the royal cook, without doubt, passed off as his own productions. This went on for some time, and as the King's meal hours are the same as our own, interfered a good deal with Ah Foo's work and consequently our comfort. The climax was reached when the cook, too lazy to walk down to the well for a can of water for himself, came softly behind me as I was watering my plants and impudently snatched a dipperful from my pail. We then took the first opportunity to let the King know how things were going, advising him to send a man who was willing to learn. Since then his Majesty's steward, a capable, serious man, has accompanied the cook. Shortly after our complaint we heard several rifle-shots from the palace, and soon after met the cook, who passed us hurriedly, without the usual salutations, his countenance bearing the marks of furious anger and fear. It seems that he had been the King's target, running and crouching behind piles of stones, the bullets flying after him. Tembinoka came over a few days later and apologised for having possibly alarmed or annoyed us. He said he had no intention of killing the man, which he might have done easily, being a dead shot, but only wished to frighten him. He said he had killed enough people to show the rest what he could do, but thought it a good plan to remind them occasionally that he had a rifle and the power to use it as he pleased. "More better him 'praid" (afraid), were his words. As may be imagined, the cook bears us no good will, knowing that our complaints had turned that fearful rifle against him. However, he dropped his insolent airs and became almost obsequious.Since we have been here, the schoonerTiernancame in for copra. While she was lying in the lagoon, the King spent most of his time aboard and some seven hundred dollars of his money (he spent neatly one thousand on theEquator); then he got very drunk, going on steadily a little worse or a little better, according to his headaches. Day before yesterday, he gave a feast and dance to which he did not invite us. At noon he came to say he would lunch with us. His eyes were wandering and his voice excited and almost boisterous. It was plain that royalty was not far from being vulgarly drunk. We could see that he had been worried by our visits to the palace having ceased and wished to have an understanding that there was no ill feeling on either side. He demanded beer, saying that he had been drinking gin and port wine, and dozed off in his chair, starting up in a few moments much mortified. I noticed that even in this stage of semi-intoxication, he used his knife and fork in our fashion, and not as he had learned from the "South Sea merchants." It is an unending pleasure to hear the King say: "I want to go home." There is an element of appeal in it, reminding one of a child who can bear the tedium no longer. It is always directed to Louis or, he being absent, to me as his representative. He wanted to go home very soon after that luncheon. In the evening we could hear the dancers in the big "speak house," clapping, stamping, and singing. The sounds were so savage, so like an immense pack of dogs fighting in a mass, that we did not realise what it was, but thought that some form of riot was going on. An absolute tyrant like Tembinoka walks amid dangers of which he is fully conscious. Tembinoka dead drunk was not an idea to contemplate with serenity, and the sound of a single shot did not tend to reassure us, so we laid our pistols where they would be handy. Louis's idea is that no one would attack the King unless he were absolutely certain of killing him instantly, in which case we had better wait here until the enemy came for us. I think on the contrary, that the commission of so enormous a crime would make a pause. The terrors of the deed would fill the childish minds of the natives to the exclusion of anything else and there would be a short time of confusion in which nothing would take place but shoutings and aimless running about; then would be our time to rush in and take possession of a stout wooden house inside the palace walls, and the King's arms, and really the King's throne. There would always be the chance, a very slight one, to be sure, that we might still be in time to save the King's life. I do not quite understand what Louis's tactics would be, but aside from any other consideration, there must be but one commander and he should be absolute even though the others do not agree with him.After the shot (which was only aimed at a dog, though that we could not know) we listened and found that there was no interruption to the singing and dancing, which reassured us. In the night, Louis, being restless and not sleepy, took his flageolet and wandered off into the woods, playing as he walked, until I lost hearing of him. About midnight, or a little later, I was out a short distance from the house watching with some anxiety for his return. Pretty soon I saw him coming along the main path toward our house. I also saw a dark figure dogging his steps. I called to him, telling him what I had seen. He was convinced that it was an hallucination of mine and I was quite ready to believe him, but as we talked I caught sight of the man running toward the palace. I pointed him out to Louis, who dashed off in pursuit. When the man saw he was outdistanced, for Louis is a fine sprinter, he turned the face of the cook, smiling suavely. I heard "sea language" in Louis's biggest voice, and saw him leaping strangely in the moonlight, like a grasshopper. He came back in fits of laughter, saying he had kicked the cook, who fled in terror.Ever since the cook found we had turned against him I have had an uneasy feeling that some one was about our sleeping house in the night, and several times I was certain a hand was cautiously feeling about inside our door flap. It seemed a foolish notion, so I had said nothing about it until this night, then Louis said he, too, had distinctly heard the same thing. We cannot complain to the King for he would kill the man instantly, and we do not go so far as to desire his death. We have not seen or heard from him since. Ah Foo thinks he has gone away in fear of his life. I have it in my heart to be sorry for the fellow, for his terror must be extreme, and we who have brought this upon him belong to the feared and hated white race.We are getting to be rather anxious concerning theEquator. She was to be gone two weeks, but it is now over a month since she left us. TheTiernanmet her at Butaritari, she leaving the day before Captain Saxe of theTiernan. Captain Reid intended to go to Maraki to take a man known as "the poisoner" over to another island, Taravao, I think. Now Taravao is so near to Maraki that Peter Grant had been over there in a small boat. There may have been trouble in Maraki—certainly it was imminent—which has kept the captain, but still it is a long time. He promised, if the schooner were lost and he was saved, that he would make his way here somehow. In these dangerous and uncertain waters one is easily made uneasy. Fortunately for us, theTiernanwas able to let us have some stores. Our salt beef was finished, and we were absolutely sickened of wild chickens shot by Ah Foo with the King's gun.I had a little strip of coral dug out, got rotted leaves from under a tree, put them into the hole, and into this I emptied the half-decayed filth that was left in the onion basket. I should think I have nearly two dozen onions now growing finely. I have invented a salad for Louis of which he is extremely fond. In all these islands there is one cocoanut that has a sweet husk, used for cleaning the teeth. In Butaritari the baron often caused me great embarrassment by chewing a brush for me. This sweet nut when green has a little crisp portion at the stem end which I cut up and made into salad with oil and vinegar, or rather oil and lime-juice, as we have no vinegar. We have put out a bottle of sour toddy hoping to get vinegar from that.My diary ends here, abruptly; I had too much on my hands to find any further time for writing diaries, for Ah Foo fell ill, and I must be cook, purveyor, housemaid, and what not, as well as nurse. Ah Foo announced his illness (something alarmingly like diphtheria) in these words, "Me sick: no can work; no can cook—no good any more—more better you kill me, now," offering Louis, as he spoke, a large, keenly sharpened carving knife and his bared throat ready for the sacrifice. He was severely ill for some days, needing almost constant attention. His undisguised surprise that I would stoop to nurse a Chinaman was pathetic, and his gratitude afterward was sometimes shown in unexpected and embarrassing ways, as, for instance, when he insisted on shooting several men who waked me from an afternoon nap by singing Christmas songs beneath my window; or when he proposed to burglariously enter a trader's house to steal something for me that could not be procured otherwise.It seemed a rash thing to let theTiernansail away without us as we had finished, not only our own supplies, but the King's also. True, Mr. Lauterbach, the mate of theTiernan, let us have several kegs of salt beef, and Reuben (which was the nearest we could come to pronouncing his name), the King's majordomo, had fetched three big hawkbill turtles from another island. The turtles were for the King's own larder, but he sent us a generous portion of each; we, of course, divided accordingly when we opened our kegs of beef. But these provisions would soon be finished, and if, as we each feared but dared not say, theEquatorwere lost, "cocoanut steaks" might become our sole diet. Indeed, I had packed the most of our belongings in some large camphor-wood chests ready to go on board, and we had even chosen our bunks when a picture of Captain Reid's face if he arrived to find us gone rose before my mind's eye. "Louis," I suddenly whispered, "I don't want to go." Without a question Louis immediately cancelled our passage and theTiernansailed away without us. Not many days afterward she capsized and sank in a very odd way. A heavy gale that had piled the sea up into enormous waves was followed by a dead calm. TheTiernan, lying quite helpless, was rolled over, further and further, until she "turned turtle" and sank. Years after the mate, Mr. Lauterbach, whom I had supposed to be drowned, came to see me in San Francisco. He, he told me, with some natives, managed to turn over a boat that floated out upside down from the schooner. With only the carcass of the ship's pet pig which they had picked up and what rain fell from the sky for sustenance, the boat went drifting off. I am not sure that they had an oar, but Mr. Lauterbach caught a native sleeping-mat that was floating on the water; the castaways took turns in holding up this mat, which thus served as a sail. They could not hope for a rescue in these unfrequented waters, so Mr. Lauterbach tried to work toward an inhabited island with only the position of sun and stars for guidance. When he did make land, after an incredible length of time to have lived without food or water, there were, as I remember, only himself, one man and a demented woman left living in the boat. None of our party, except, perhaps, Ah Foo, would have been able to endure such hardships—if, indeed, we had not gone straight down with the schooner—the most likely thing to happen. So it was as well that I asked to go back to our meagre fare to await theEquator.[16]Butaritari had lapsed into heathenism when we arrived there, but, by showing a magic lantern which included some Bible pictures among the slides, we quite unconsciously reconverted the whole island, King and all.[17]We were forced to kidnap "the passenger," Paul Hoeflich, a very pleasant, agreeable German, when we were on theEquator. Mr. Hoeflich had taken passage on the schooner from Butaritari to another island, only a few miles distant, where he meant to start business as an independent trader. All his worldly goods, including the stuff for stocking his store, were on board theEquator. It was the beginning of the bad season, and we had continual contrary winds with heavy seas. In vain we cruised round and round his island—we could not make a landing. We were losing much time, so my husband informed Mr. Hoeflich that he must join us in a trip to Samoa, our next destination. It so fell out that Mr. Hoeflich, who had helped greatly to lighten the tedium of a long voyage in bad weather (we arrived at Apia in a somewhat wrecked condition, with one foretopmast gone), took an immense liking to Samoa and remained there instead of returning to the Gilberts. He has prospered exceedingly and blesses the day he was kidnapped. At this time, when we met him he had come back to the line islands for a final arrangement of his affairs preliminary to settling permanently in Samoa.[18]As we neared the end of our walk we came into quite a large village. The aspect of the people was more savage and ugly than we had heretofore seen, the faces brutal and unintelligent. Half-grown children, and, indeed, some more than half-grown, were entirely naked. The young boys were like little old men, their faces hard and their eyes haggard and anxious. I saw one with St. Vitus's dance, several with hydrocephalus, and a number who had affections of the eyes. Many of the little girls had their heads entirely shaved, with the exception of a small tassel at the nape of the neck which gave a very curious effect. The older ones wore their hair bushed out to a great size. Almost all wore necklaces of braided hair with an oval bit of red or white shell hanging to it like a locket. One haughty, impudent, fat young fellow, evidently a beau, swaggered about with a white handkerchief, twisted most ingenuously into a crown, on his head. Almost all of the women wore a girdle of flat, round beads (made of cocoanut shells) above theridi.As we walked along the village street the whole population joined us. We stopped at the sight of a church neatly made of wattled cocoanut leaves bearing at the peak of its front gable a belfry of braided leaves. There was actually a bell in this belfry which looked as though a breath would disperse it. The floor of the church is covered with mats, which are renewed each new year. A very odd thing was an arrangement of strings which, inside of the building, crossed each other with a sort of pattern just above a tall man's height. All along these strings, at regular intervals, strips of bright-hued calico were tied—I thought in an attempt at ornamentation, but was told it was for a game of the children. I should like to see the game played. Indeed, I do not believe it to be a game. (We found afterward that these decorations were for the purpose of propitiating "chinch," a terrible evil spirit—the devil, in fact.) We asked for the missionary; a fine-looking young Hawaiian came up to us, saluting us with the pleasant "Aloha!" His house was our appointed place of meeting with the captain. The missionary, we were told, was in council with the "old men."This island is a republic governed by the "old men." To arrive at the distinction of being an "old man," one must be either very rich or have performed some prodigy of valour in war time. Accompanied by the Hawaiian, we wandered along to the Council House. The missionary looked extremely like a mixture of native and Chinese—a large, imposing man with a long, thin, white moustache and thick, grey hair. As we sat outside in the circle surrounding the Council House, conversing with the Hawaiian, it occurred to me that I might buy one of the cocoanut beaded girdles worn by most of the women. The Hawaiian turned to one of them and asked what she would take for her girdle; a dollar was the answer; at that I handed a half dollar and two quarters to the young man who, saying that it was too much, gave me back half the money. "They sell them for two fish-hooks," he said, "and this is simply extortion; however, as she has seen the money she will do her best to get it, so you might as well give her the half dollar." The exchange was made, and after a moment's confabulation with a crowd of her neighbours the woman demanded the other half dollar. At this the Hawaiian asked for the piece of money she had, took it, and gave back the girdle. In an instant the whole place was in an uproar. Men bounded up with furious gestures; the old men in the Council House shouted with threatening yells, while the Hawaiian, leaping to his feet, his eyes flashing like a cat's in the dark, defied them all. Fearful that harm might come to him after we were gone, I begged him to let me give the people whatever they might ask for, but he would not hear of it, and matters were the worse for my offer, as the people evidently understood it had been made. Finally, leaving the crowd in a state of ferment, we walked away with the Hawaiian to his very pleasant house, he entertaining us on the way with a list of the laws made that day by the "old men." They were as follows: "Dancing, one dollar fine; concealed weapons, five dollars; murder, fifteen; stealing, twenty-five, and telling a lie, fifty dollars." Pretty soon the crowd began surging round us; there was more furious talk, the Hawaiian looking very fine as he walked toward the mass of people, shaking his fists and, I am bound to say, interlarding his language with English oaths. When he had forced the crowd back by, I really think, the fire of his eye, he laughed in their faces contemptuously and turned to me translating the meaning of the scene. The "old men" had made another law, against him, placing him under tapu so that he could neither trade nor be traded with. I felt very miserable at being the innocent cause of so much trouble. He said he did not care a rush and meant to leave the island anyway. He had married a native of Maraki, bringing her home to visit her people, with whom she had proposed they should stop, but now, he said, she was as eager to go as he was. When we left he presented us with a girdle that he had somehow got hold of and his wife gave me a young fowl. I, very fortunately, had a handsome wreath of flowers on my hat which I took off and gave the wife. It was amusing to watch the dandy of the village, the haughty and insolent fat young man who had been too languid to see us before, trying to keep all speculation out of his eyes when I passed over the wreath. He could not do it. The red imitation currants held his gaze like fish-hooks.We sailed away quite gaily from Maraki, fell into a calm, and had to turn and come back again, so had yet another day, and all together four, before we really got away. All the time, more or less, we were overrun by the traders, who came to beg drink and buy and sell.We have now seen the South Sea "bad man" of the story-books, Peter Grant. He always comes with "Little Peter," a kindly, simple lad who has been on the island since he was thirteen and speaks excellent English with the native tossing and eyebrow lifting. (Little Peter died from poisoning some years after; it was supposed to be a murder.) Peter Grant is the most hideous ruffian I have ever beheld. The skin of his face has the quality of a burn scar and is crossed with wrinkles in places where no other human being has wrinkles. His forehead is narrow and retreating, his eyes very light, with a strange scaly look, not a pair in size, colour, or movement, and set too close together in a large, gaunt face. His nose, hooked at the end until it almost touches his upper lip, is unusually bony and is bent over to the left as though from a blow. His coarse-lipped, stupid mouth is creased with slashes like cuts. One of his unpleasant peculiarities is what Louis calls "crow's-feet between the eyes."The next to the last day at Maraki Lloyd and I went ashore with the captain, who had, as he said, "business to attend to" with a missionary. (The Hawaiian missionary who was to travel in theMorning Starwith our dear Maka of Butaritari.) I knew the business had something to do with a tapu put upon Peter Grant some six months ago, but that a concerted attack was to be made upon the old missionary I did not suspect or I should never have gone. We were met by my friend the young Hawaiian, who accompanied us to the missionaries' house. There the best seat was offered me, all being received with dignified hospitality as they dropped in, one horror after another. Little Peter was appointed interpreter. The missionary was charged, first, with having instigated the natives to tapu Peter Grant. It was supposed he denied this, but in reality he did not. Head and shoulders above the rest he sat, a fine, massive figure, with impenetrable Chinese eyes, master of the situation. I only noticed once any sign of perturbation in him; that was when the head of the "old men" was brought in to be questioned. The missionary made a quick attempt to put the old man on his guard, but was instantly checked by a trader, who leaped to his feet and shook his fist in the missionary's face, ordering him to be silent. The missionary smiled contemptuously, but a thick sweat gathered upon his face and neck, his hands trembled slightly, and his great chest rose and fell, slowly and heavily. Feeling that to gaze upon him was an indelicacy, though I was doing so in sympathy and admiration, I made a slight movement to turn away; as though he knew my thought, the missionary suddenly looked me in the eyes with a charming smile, fanned me a moment with a fan that lay beside him, then handed me the fan with a bow.Fortunately, the attempt to warn the "old man" had been enough, for he seemed idiotic in his apparent endeavours to understand what was wanted of him. The charge against the missionary then changed to theft. He was said to have stolen a murdered man's property. In answer to that he said: "Then place the affair in the hands of either the first man-of-war that comes to the group or theMorning Star," which is daily expected. The traders all cried out with fury at the mention of theMorning Star, and, all speaking at once, charged him with instigating the natives to all sorts of evil when he should be setting them a good example. For the first time he retorted, saying that the missionaries came only to try to make the people better, and that the only difficulty was the wickedness of the white men. I am sorry to say that I got the impression that there was something in danger of being discovered which would have been to the disadvantage of the missionary, but not exactly what the traders were looking for. They were too stupid to see that, and were forced to come to a pause, having gained nothing. Both Lloyd and I had a distressed feeling that we might be confounded with their party in the mind of the missionary, but he reassured us with his eyes, and, pushing aside those in his way, shook hands with Lloyd and then with me. I held his hand and pressed it and said all that eyes and smile could manage.As we went out of the house the missionary's wife made me a present of a fowl. The Hawaiian joined us as we passed his place and his wife ran out with another fowl. I had made up a little parcel for her, a red comb, a bead necklace, a bottle of fine scent, and a striped blue-and-white summer jersey, with a large silk handkerchief for her husband. The next day they, with their little daughter, came to pay us a visit on board, fetching with them three young fowls and a very fine, beautiful mat of a pattern I had not seen before. Louis was greatly pleased with my friends and promised to send the man his photograph. When he said good-bye, to our surprise he asked for Louis's card, which was a piece of civilisation we were not prepared for. We have touched at no island where there has not been at least one person we were sorry to leave and should be glad to meet again, though this was the only place where these friends were foreign to the land.[19]A political refugee from Samoa.[20]Fresh palm toddy tastes like sweet champagne and is very wholesome; sour or fermented toddy is quite another thing.[21]Retainers[22]Raw fish may seem a strange delicacy for a sick man, but, properly prepared, there is nothing better than fresh raw mullet. I first learned this in Tautira, a lovely native village on the "wild side" of Tahiti. My husband was alarmingly ill with pneumonia, and had sunk into a state of coma. There was no way to reach civilisation except by means of our yacht, theCasco—and theCasco—was gone to Papeete to have her masts repaired. Crushed by this catastrophe I was gazing stupidly out over the village green, trying to gather my wits together, when my attention was distracted for a moment by the spectacle of a tall, graceful, native woman entering the house of the chief of Tautira, amid the acclamations of a great crowd. I vaguely remembered that for many days there had been preparations making for an expected visit from Moe, "the great princess." In about half an hour there was a tap at our door; there stood Moe with a plate of raw fish prepared with miti sauce. Speaking perfect English, she told me that she had heard there was a sick foreigner in the village whose wife was troubled because he would not eat, so, she said, she had made this dish herself, and if we could only get him to taste it he would eat more, and convalescence would follow immediately. At first Louis turned his head to one side wearily without opening his eyes, but by the advice of the princess I slipped a morsel between his lips; to my surprise he swallowed the bit, then another, and finally opened his eyes and asked: "What's that?" Several times a day the princess came with her plate of fish and miti sauce, which was soon eagerly watched for and devoured by my invalid, and within the week Louis had so far recovered as to be able to walk over to the chief's house, where we took up our abode with him and Moe.The raw fish, as prepared in Tahiti, instead of being revolting in appearance, as one might imagine, is as pleasing to the sight as to the taste. The fresh white meat of the mullet is cut into neat little strips about half an inch wide and a couple of inches long and laid side by side on a plate—of course it is carefully freed from skin and bones—and covered with miti sauce. Miti sauce is made of milk pressed from cocoanut meats (an entirely different thing from the refreshing water of the green drinking nut), mixed with about one third the quantity of lime-juice, a few tiny bits of the wild red pepper, and a little sea water. This sauce seems to cook the fish, which takes on a curdled look, and curls up a little at the edges as though it had just been boiled.[23]Tin Jack came to a sad end. He possessed a certain fixed income, which, however, was not large enough for Jack's ideas, so he spent most of the year as a South Sea trader, using the whole of his year's income in one wild burst of dissipation in the town of Sydney. One of his favourite amusements was to hire a hansom cab for the day, put the driver inside, and drive the vehicle himself, calling upon various passers-by to join him at the nearest public house. Some years ago when Jack was at his station he received word that his trustee, who was in charge of his property, had levanted with it all. Whereupon poor Jack put a pistol to his head and blew out what brains he possessed. He was a beautiful creature, terribly annoying at times, but with something childlike and appealing—I think he was close to what the Scotch call a natural—that made one forgive pranks in him that would be unforgivable in others. He was very proud of being the original of "Tommy Hadden" in the "Wrecker," and carried the book wherever he went.

FOOTNOTES:

[1]We had met the Hawaiian missionary Maka and his wife Mary on our second South Sea cruise at Butaritari, one of the low islands belonging to the Kingsmill group. Maka and his wife being away at the time, by the advice of the resident trader we had burglariously entered and taken possession of the missionaries' comfortable little wooden house, where we made ourselves at home while we complacently awaited the arrival of our involuntary host. Having thus identified ourselves with the missionary party, and laid ourselves under such heavy obligations to them, we felt bound to forego many amusements and friendships, otherwise interesting, that would have been objectionable to Maka. However, during the time of the great festival, when the neighbouring islanders of Little Makin (called by the traders "Little Muggin") came over, in answer to a challenge from the Butaritaris to dance against them for what sportsmen would call "the championship," Maka retired into discreet obscurity, giving us an opportunity to become acquainted with the King of Little Makin and to attend the heathen dances. But Maka and Mary remained our most real friends in spite of our momentary defection toward Makin. When we left Butaritari we could find nothing suitable to offer them as parting gifts, in the island fashion, and to show our gratitude for their many almost overwhelming kindnesses; hence the silk dress and clergyman's frock coat. Two other friends, consistent converts to Christianity, to whom we also carried presents, we left behind us with regret, Nan Tok and his wife; but they were of a different sort from Maka and Mary, being natives of Butaritari and, from Maka's point of view, quite uncivilised, as, in ordinary life the lady (there are onlyladiesin the South Seas, woman being a word that is tapu in all society, high or low), a rich, high chief woman, wore theridionly, while for full dress she appeared in a white chemise fresh from the trader's shelves with the marks where it had been folded still showing. My first meeting with Nan Tok and his wife was rather alarming. The King had raised the tapu from drink, consequently, the entire island, including his dull majesty, was wildly drunk on "sour toddy" (the fermented sap of the flower-stalk of the cocoanut), which is the most dangerous intoxicant in the world, as it incites in its users a frenzied desire to shed blood. During this period of licence I accidentally came upon two women fighting together like wild beasts, their teeth sunk into each other's faces, which were streaming blood. "Oh, what is the matter?" I cried. "Sour toddy," replied the woman to whom I spoke, casting a contemptuous glance over her shoulder as she passed on.In the circumstances it was thought unsafe for me to leave our own small premises, but one quiet afternoon I broke bounds and went over to the weather side of the island to hunt for shells. Here a strange man and woman joined me; they were not reassuring companions, judging from outer appearances, as they were unkempt, clad in nothing but a small fragment, each, of dirty, old gunny sack, and their faces were haggard and anxious. At first they walked with me as I went about my business of gathering shells, but presently, seeming to tire of this amusement, they began to crowd me off the beach toward the land; then seizing me by the arms, one on either side, they boldly marched me into a narrow, crooked path that led through the clustering cocoanut-trees with which the island was heavily wooded. As I reluctantly moved along beside my captors, the lady, evidently with a kindly feeling for my comfort, drew a clay pipe from out an enormous hole in her ear, stuffed it with strong, coarse tobacco, lighted it, puffed a moment, and then placed it in my mouth. As I could not guess whether their intentions were hostile or otherwise and all the warnings I had received flashed through my mind, with sublime courage I accepted the situation. But it was a solemn experience. We emerged from the palms to find the town in a turbulent uproar, the street in front of our house filled with a howling, fighting, drunken mob. It was a great relief to find we were just in front of my own door; the two natives held me fast until we were safely on the little veranda, when, to my astonishment, the man fell on his knees and offered up a fervent prayer.So began our friendship with Nan Tok and his wife (my husband always called them the "baron and baroness"). They told us afterward with what anxiety they had watched me wander through the woods alone; then how, after a heated argument as to the proper means to pursue, they concluded to force me back to safety. The incident of the pipe was an attempt to conciliate me because of a supposed fiery gleam in my eyes that disconcerted them. The prayer was one of thanks for the outcome of their adventure and a petition that this should prove the beginning of a new friendship that should be blessed to us all.[2]This flag was designed on a former cruise after we had left Apemama, the principal of the three islands comprising the group under King Tembinoka, the last of the absolute monarchs of the South Seas. The King had asked that we send him a flag, so one evening, on board the schoonerEquator, we each drew and coloured a flag. These were voted on by the ship's company. It happened that mine was unanimously chosen. The three cross-bars, red, yellow, and green, were intended to stand for the three islands, while the black shark lying across the bars was meant to be typical of Tembinoka's ancestry. The King's line was not lost in obscurity; he gave us almost embarrassing details of the first of his forebears, who sprang from a liaison between a beautiful lady and a shark. The drawings I made on theEquatorwere taken to a firm in Sydney that did such work; they turned out a couple of very gorgeous flags that were quite to the taste of his majesty. The house flag had a white crown over the head of the shark (a little different shape from that on the island flag). I chose for the motto "I bite triply," which referred not only to the King's three islands, but to the three rows of teeth peculiar to the shark.[3]Very few flowers are found in the atolls, wherefore the natives, who use wreaths for every festive occasion, are forced to devise all sorts of makeshifts for the garlands that are considered almost necessities. I have seen only two flowers that seem indigenous to the true atoll, one quite insignificant, that looked like the blossom of the malepapaia, the other a sort of "spider lily"; both these were of a whitish colour, and, as far as I could see, were worn only by people of position, and not by the common herd, who contented themselves with imitations made from some part of the cocoanut-tree. I wish those artistic souls, who so scorned my purchases at the milliner's, could have seen with what frantic joy they were received. Many times staid matrons burst into sudden hysterical weeping when I offered them my wreaths, while kings, chiefs, and even white traders intrigued to gain one of these coveted possessions.[4]As all mine and most of Louis's were burned, except what I had on my feet, I wished to preserve these for such times as it might seem necessary to make a civilised appearance.[5]He used this afterward, but as it seems to belong to my diary I thought I might let it stand.[6]Sitione was suffering from the effects of an old wound got in the last wars, some of the bones in his shoulder being shattered; they were finally removed, and Sitione recovered entirely with only a scar or two to show where the doctor had operated. Sitione, I was told, received this wound while doing a very brave and dashing act. During one of the many Samoan wars his party had fallen back a short distance, leaving an open space between them and the enemy; in this opening Sitione perceived that a friend of his had fallen and was unable to arise. The enemy were already rushing forward to take the man's head, as is their custom, when Sitione bounded back in the face of their guns, caught up his friend, and brought him into safety with a hail of bullets whizzing after him, and a shattered shoulder.[7]The "labour boys" do, sometimes, die of homesickness. A black boy called Arriki whom we hired from the German firm, did so die after we left Samoa. The man to whom he was assigned by the German firm told me that both Arriki and a friend of his began to droop and become sullen, and then went quite mad; soon after they died at about the same time from no apparent disease, but he said he knew the symptoms—"just plain homesickness for a cannibal island." Arriki, in a moment of confidence, once described to me his life in his own land. It seemed to consist of flight from one unsafe spot to another, with death hunting on every hand. Both his father and mother had been killed and eaten, with the most of his friends; and yet Arriki died of homesickness.[8]We forgot it on the nineteenth, which was the real anniversary, but thought there would be no harm in a belated celebration.[9]Two somewhat picturesque desperadoes of the South Seas, now dead fortunately for the rest of the world.[10]We made a former cruise, our second, in theEquator, a little trading schooner.[11]This must have been a high-low island, though in many atolls the earth is brought in schooner loads in which trees and flowers flourish.[12]Theridiis the only garment worn by the women in most of the atolls. It is a thick fringe, shorter or longer, according to the prevailing fashion inridis, made of pandanus leaves cut in strips, oiled, and smoked. In the Gilberts a man may not lay his hands on aridiunder penalty of death, even when the garment is not in active service.[13]At this island I remember that the women wore what looked like doll's hats as ornaments on their heads. They were about the size of the top of a tumbler.[14]When we were accidentally marooned at Apemama during a former cruise.[15]It seems easier to explain our relation with Tembinoka, King of Apemama, at whose island I hoped we would call, by giving an extract from a former diary written on the trading schoonerEquator:We have been now about a month on the island of the redoubtable Tembinoka, an absolute monarch, who holds the lives of his subjects (our own also) in the hollow of his hand. He says: "I kill plenty men, him 'praid (afraid) now. I no kill any more." That he does not mean to kill any more his subjects do not believe, nor I, quite, myself. He once shot five men, one after another, as they sat in a "moniap" (native house) where they had been brought to be examined by him concerning some breach of his laws. There were seven men in all, but two escaped and are still at large in another island. He says his father had a head house where he hung up the decapitated heads of his enemies—or in other words, people who differed in their opinion from him or whom he did not like (a friend of ours afterward saw thismoniapwith its grisly decoration of skulls). No missionaries and no white people are allowed on Tembinoka's islands (he rules over three) with the exception of Johnny, an inoffensive, dying "poor white," who lives some four miles from the village. We did not know in the least whether we should be allowed to remain, and waited with some anxiety for the appearance of his Majesty. In the meantime the whole ship was in a commotion, scouring the decks and getting everything into apple-pie order. I did not know that theEquatorcould be brought to such a pitch of cleanliness. Finally the King's steps arrived, were made fast to the sides, and the royal boat was seen to put out. We thought it more dignified to remain in the cabin and show none of the curiosity we felt concerning this very remarkable man. We had been told that he was grossly stout, and that was all the description we had been able to get from the stupid people we had talked with; consequently, we were not prepared to meet the most magnificently royal personage that it has yet been our lot to behold, a gentleman by nature and a king every inch of him. He gave us a long and careful study; afterward he said it was first the eyes and then the mouth he judged by. We passed muster, Louis's eyes being specially commended, and were told to come ashore and remain as long as we liked as his guests. The next day we chose a spot where we thought it would be pleasant to live, and Tembinoka ordered his men to carry houses and set them up there for us. The captain and Lloyd stayed at the King's palace all night; the next morning they were alarmed to see Tembinoka shooting into the village with a rifle. He explained that his men were lazy and should be at work, so he was reminding them that accidents were possible. The whole trembling village set to work like bees, and by the time I came over, one sleeping house was up, a little thatched bird-cage with flaps on all sides to raise or lower as one likes, and an opensided cook house for Ah Foo (a Chinese servant we brought from the Marquesas). The King sat on a mat and directed proceedings. He motioned me to sit beside him and asked for a cigarette, of which he is very fond. Whenever a native has to pass the King, or come near him for any purpose, he must crouch and crawl; even his Majesty's own sister did so when she came to join our party.We have had a little ripple of excitement on the usually smooth current of our existence. To go back to the beginning: Soon after we were settled in "Equator town," as we call our hamlet, the King proposed sending the royal cook to learn from Ah Foo. The man was an insolent, handsome fellow, with no intention of either learning or working, and either lay on the floor of the kitchen or squatted smoking, while Ah Foo, who was in mortal terror of Tembinoka, prepared the dishes which the royal cook, without doubt, passed off as his own productions. This went on for some time, and as the King's meal hours are the same as our own, interfered a good deal with Ah Foo's work and consequently our comfort. The climax was reached when the cook, too lazy to walk down to the well for a can of water for himself, came softly behind me as I was watering my plants and impudently snatched a dipperful from my pail. We then took the first opportunity to let the King know how things were going, advising him to send a man who was willing to learn. Since then his Majesty's steward, a capable, serious man, has accompanied the cook. Shortly after our complaint we heard several rifle-shots from the palace, and soon after met the cook, who passed us hurriedly, without the usual salutations, his countenance bearing the marks of furious anger and fear. It seems that he had been the King's target, running and crouching behind piles of stones, the bullets flying after him. Tembinoka came over a few days later and apologised for having possibly alarmed or annoyed us. He said he had no intention of killing the man, which he might have done easily, being a dead shot, but only wished to frighten him. He said he had killed enough people to show the rest what he could do, but thought it a good plan to remind them occasionally that he had a rifle and the power to use it as he pleased. "More better him 'praid" (afraid), were his words. As may be imagined, the cook bears us no good will, knowing that our complaints had turned that fearful rifle against him. However, he dropped his insolent airs and became almost obsequious.Since we have been here, the schoonerTiernancame in for copra. While she was lying in the lagoon, the King spent most of his time aboard and some seven hundred dollars of his money (he spent neatly one thousand on theEquator); then he got very drunk, going on steadily a little worse or a little better, according to his headaches. Day before yesterday, he gave a feast and dance to which he did not invite us. At noon he came to say he would lunch with us. His eyes were wandering and his voice excited and almost boisterous. It was plain that royalty was not far from being vulgarly drunk. We could see that he had been worried by our visits to the palace having ceased and wished to have an understanding that there was no ill feeling on either side. He demanded beer, saying that he had been drinking gin and port wine, and dozed off in his chair, starting up in a few moments much mortified. I noticed that even in this stage of semi-intoxication, he used his knife and fork in our fashion, and not as he had learned from the "South Sea merchants." It is an unending pleasure to hear the King say: "I want to go home." There is an element of appeal in it, reminding one of a child who can bear the tedium no longer. It is always directed to Louis or, he being absent, to me as his representative. He wanted to go home very soon after that luncheon. In the evening we could hear the dancers in the big "speak house," clapping, stamping, and singing. The sounds were so savage, so like an immense pack of dogs fighting in a mass, that we did not realise what it was, but thought that some form of riot was going on. An absolute tyrant like Tembinoka walks amid dangers of which he is fully conscious. Tembinoka dead drunk was not an idea to contemplate with serenity, and the sound of a single shot did not tend to reassure us, so we laid our pistols where they would be handy. Louis's idea is that no one would attack the King unless he were absolutely certain of killing him instantly, in which case we had better wait here until the enemy came for us. I think on the contrary, that the commission of so enormous a crime would make a pause. The terrors of the deed would fill the childish minds of the natives to the exclusion of anything else and there would be a short time of confusion in which nothing would take place but shoutings and aimless running about; then would be our time to rush in and take possession of a stout wooden house inside the palace walls, and the King's arms, and really the King's throne. There would always be the chance, a very slight one, to be sure, that we might still be in time to save the King's life. I do not quite understand what Louis's tactics would be, but aside from any other consideration, there must be but one commander and he should be absolute even though the others do not agree with him.After the shot (which was only aimed at a dog, though that we could not know) we listened and found that there was no interruption to the singing and dancing, which reassured us. In the night, Louis, being restless and not sleepy, took his flageolet and wandered off into the woods, playing as he walked, until I lost hearing of him. About midnight, or a little later, I was out a short distance from the house watching with some anxiety for his return. Pretty soon I saw him coming along the main path toward our house. I also saw a dark figure dogging his steps. I called to him, telling him what I had seen. He was convinced that it was an hallucination of mine and I was quite ready to believe him, but as we talked I caught sight of the man running toward the palace. I pointed him out to Louis, who dashed off in pursuit. When the man saw he was outdistanced, for Louis is a fine sprinter, he turned the face of the cook, smiling suavely. I heard "sea language" in Louis's biggest voice, and saw him leaping strangely in the moonlight, like a grasshopper. He came back in fits of laughter, saying he had kicked the cook, who fled in terror.Ever since the cook found we had turned against him I have had an uneasy feeling that some one was about our sleeping house in the night, and several times I was certain a hand was cautiously feeling about inside our door flap. It seemed a foolish notion, so I had said nothing about it until this night, then Louis said he, too, had distinctly heard the same thing. We cannot complain to the King for he would kill the man instantly, and we do not go so far as to desire his death. We have not seen or heard from him since. Ah Foo thinks he has gone away in fear of his life. I have it in my heart to be sorry for the fellow, for his terror must be extreme, and we who have brought this upon him belong to the feared and hated white race.We are getting to be rather anxious concerning theEquator. She was to be gone two weeks, but it is now over a month since she left us. TheTiernanmet her at Butaritari, she leaving the day before Captain Saxe of theTiernan. Captain Reid intended to go to Maraki to take a man known as "the poisoner" over to another island, Taravao, I think. Now Taravao is so near to Maraki that Peter Grant had been over there in a small boat. There may have been trouble in Maraki—certainly it was imminent—which has kept the captain, but still it is a long time. He promised, if the schooner were lost and he was saved, that he would make his way here somehow. In these dangerous and uncertain waters one is easily made uneasy. Fortunately for us, theTiernanwas able to let us have some stores. Our salt beef was finished, and we were absolutely sickened of wild chickens shot by Ah Foo with the King's gun.I had a little strip of coral dug out, got rotted leaves from under a tree, put them into the hole, and into this I emptied the half-decayed filth that was left in the onion basket. I should think I have nearly two dozen onions now growing finely. I have invented a salad for Louis of which he is extremely fond. In all these islands there is one cocoanut that has a sweet husk, used for cleaning the teeth. In Butaritari the baron often caused me great embarrassment by chewing a brush for me. This sweet nut when green has a little crisp portion at the stem end which I cut up and made into salad with oil and vinegar, or rather oil and lime-juice, as we have no vinegar. We have put out a bottle of sour toddy hoping to get vinegar from that.My diary ends here, abruptly; I had too much on my hands to find any further time for writing diaries, for Ah Foo fell ill, and I must be cook, purveyor, housemaid, and what not, as well as nurse. Ah Foo announced his illness (something alarmingly like diphtheria) in these words, "Me sick: no can work; no can cook—no good any more—more better you kill me, now," offering Louis, as he spoke, a large, keenly sharpened carving knife and his bared throat ready for the sacrifice. He was severely ill for some days, needing almost constant attention. His undisguised surprise that I would stoop to nurse a Chinaman was pathetic, and his gratitude afterward was sometimes shown in unexpected and embarrassing ways, as, for instance, when he insisted on shooting several men who waked me from an afternoon nap by singing Christmas songs beneath my window; or when he proposed to burglariously enter a trader's house to steal something for me that could not be procured otherwise.It seemed a rash thing to let theTiernansail away without us as we had finished, not only our own supplies, but the King's also. True, Mr. Lauterbach, the mate of theTiernan, let us have several kegs of salt beef, and Reuben (which was the nearest we could come to pronouncing his name), the King's majordomo, had fetched three big hawkbill turtles from another island. The turtles were for the King's own larder, but he sent us a generous portion of each; we, of course, divided accordingly when we opened our kegs of beef. But these provisions would soon be finished, and if, as we each feared but dared not say, theEquatorwere lost, "cocoanut steaks" might become our sole diet. Indeed, I had packed the most of our belongings in some large camphor-wood chests ready to go on board, and we had even chosen our bunks when a picture of Captain Reid's face if he arrived to find us gone rose before my mind's eye. "Louis," I suddenly whispered, "I don't want to go." Without a question Louis immediately cancelled our passage and theTiernansailed away without us. Not many days afterward she capsized and sank in a very odd way. A heavy gale that had piled the sea up into enormous waves was followed by a dead calm. TheTiernan, lying quite helpless, was rolled over, further and further, until she "turned turtle" and sank. Years after the mate, Mr. Lauterbach, whom I had supposed to be drowned, came to see me in San Francisco. He, he told me, with some natives, managed to turn over a boat that floated out upside down from the schooner. With only the carcass of the ship's pet pig which they had picked up and what rain fell from the sky for sustenance, the boat went drifting off. I am not sure that they had an oar, but Mr. Lauterbach caught a native sleeping-mat that was floating on the water; the castaways took turns in holding up this mat, which thus served as a sail. They could not hope for a rescue in these unfrequented waters, so Mr. Lauterbach tried to work toward an inhabited island with only the position of sun and stars for guidance. When he did make land, after an incredible length of time to have lived without food or water, there were, as I remember, only himself, one man and a demented woman left living in the boat. None of our party, except, perhaps, Ah Foo, would have been able to endure such hardships—if, indeed, we had not gone straight down with the schooner—the most likely thing to happen. So it was as well that I asked to go back to our meagre fare to await theEquator.[16]Butaritari had lapsed into heathenism when we arrived there, but, by showing a magic lantern which included some Bible pictures among the slides, we quite unconsciously reconverted the whole island, King and all.[17]We were forced to kidnap "the passenger," Paul Hoeflich, a very pleasant, agreeable German, when we were on theEquator. Mr. Hoeflich had taken passage on the schooner from Butaritari to another island, only a few miles distant, where he meant to start business as an independent trader. All his worldly goods, including the stuff for stocking his store, were on board theEquator. It was the beginning of the bad season, and we had continual contrary winds with heavy seas. In vain we cruised round and round his island—we could not make a landing. We were losing much time, so my husband informed Mr. Hoeflich that he must join us in a trip to Samoa, our next destination. It so fell out that Mr. Hoeflich, who had helped greatly to lighten the tedium of a long voyage in bad weather (we arrived at Apia in a somewhat wrecked condition, with one foretopmast gone), took an immense liking to Samoa and remained there instead of returning to the Gilberts. He has prospered exceedingly and blesses the day he was kidnapped. At this time, when we met him he had come back to the line islands for a final arrangement of his affairs preliminary to settling permanently in Samoa.[18]As we neared the end of our walk we came into quite a large village. The aspect of the people was more savage and ugly than we had heretofore seen, the faces brutal and unintelligent. Half-grown children, and, indeed, some more than half-grown, were entirely naked. The young boys were like little old men, their faces hard and their eyes haggard and anxious. I saw one with St. Vitus's dance, several with hydrocephalus, and a number who had affections of the eyes. Many of the little girls had their heads entirely shaved, with the exception of a small tassel at the nape of the neck which gave a very curious effect. The older ones wore their hair bushed out to a great size. Almost all wore necklaces of braided hair with an oval bit of red or white shell hanging to it like a locket. One haughty, impudent, fat young fellow, evidently a beau, swaggered about with a white handkerchief, twisted most ingenuously into a crown, on his head. Almost all of the women wore a girdle of flat, round beads (made of cocoanut shells) above theridi.As we walked along the village street the whole population joined us. We stopped at the sight of a church neatly made of wattled cocoanut leaves bearing at the peak of its front gable a belfry of braided leaves. There was actually a bell in this belfry which looked as though a breath would disperse it. The floor of the church is covered with mats, which are renewed each new year. A very odd thing was an arrangement of strings which, inside of the building, crossed each other with a sort of pattern just above a tall man's height. All along these strings, at regular intervals, strips of bright-hued calico were tied—I thought in an attempt at ornamentation, but was told it was for a game of the children. I should like to see the game played. Indeed, I do not believe it to be a game. (We found afterward that these decorations were for the purpose of propitiating "chinch," a terrible evil spirit—the devil, in fact.) We asked for the missionary; a fine-looking young Hawaiian came up to us, saluting us with the pleasant "Aloha!" His house was our appointed place of meeting with the captain. The missionary, we were told, was in council with the "old men."This island is a republic governed by the "old men." To arrive at the distinction of being an "old man," one must be either very rich or have performed some prodigy of valour in war time. Accompanied by the Hawaiian, we wandered along to the Council House. The missionary looked extremely like a mixture of native and Chinese—a large, imposing man with a long, thin, white moustache and thick, grey hair. As we sat outside in the circle surrounding the Council House, conversing with the Hawaiian, it occurred to me that I might buy one of the cocoanut beaded girdles worn by most of the women. The Hawaiian turned to one of them and asked what she would take for her girdle; a dollar was the answer; at that I handed a half dollar and two quarters to the young man who, saying that it was too much, gave me back half the money. "They sell them for two fish-hooks," he said, "and this is simply extortion; however, as she has seen the money she will do her best to get it, so you might as well give her the half dollar." The exchange was made, and after a moment's confabulation with a crowd of her neighbours the woman demanded the other half dollar. At this the Hawaiian asked for the piece of money she had, took it, and gave back the girdle. In an instant the whole place was in an uproar. Men bounded up with furious gestures; the old men in the Council House shouted with threatening yells, while the Hawaiian, leaping to his feet, his eyes flashing like a cat's in the dark, defied them all. Fearful that harm might come to him after we were gone, I begged him to let me give the people whatever they might ask for, but he would not hear of it, and matters were the worse for my offer, as the people evidently understood it had been made. Finally, leaving the crowd in a state of ferment, we walked away with the Hawaiian to his very pleasant house, he entertaining us on the way with a list of the laws made that day by the "old men." They were as follows: "Dancing, one dollar fine; concealed weapons, five dollars; murder, fifteen; stealing, twenty-five, and telling a lie, fifty dollars." Pretty soon the crowd began surging round us; there was more furious talk, the Hawaiian looking very fine as he walked toward the mass of people, shaking his fists and, I am bound to say, interlarding his language with English oaths. When he had forced the crowd back by, I really think, the fire of his eye, he laughed in their faces contemptuously and turned to me translating the meaning of the scene. The "old men" had made another law, against him, placing him under tapu so that he could neither trade nor be traded with. I felt very miserable at being the innocent cause of so much trouble. He said he did not care a rush and meant to leave the island anyway. He had married a native of Maraki, bringing her home to visit her people, with whom she had proposed they should stop, but now, he said, she was as eager to go as he was. When we left he presented us with a girdle that he had somehow got hold of and his wife gave me a young fowl. I, very fortunately, had a handsome wreath of flowers on my hat which I took off and gave the wife. It was amusing to watch the dandy of the village, the haughty and insolent fat young man who had been too languid to see us before, trying to keep all speculation out of his eyes when I passed over the wreath. He could not do it. The red imitation currants held his gaze like fish-hooks.We sailed away quite gaily from Maraki, fell into a calm, and had to turn and come back again, so had yet another day, and all together four, before we really got away. All the time, more or less, we were overrun by the traders, who came to beg drink and buy and sell.We have now seen the South Sea "bad man" of the story-books, Peter Grant. He always comes with "Little Peter," a kindly, simple lad who has been on the island since he was thirteen and speaks excellent English with the native tossing and eyebrow lifting. (Little Peter died from poisoning some years after; it was supposed to be a murder.) Peter Grant is the most hideous ruffian I have ever beheld. The skin of his face has the quality of a burn scar and is crossed with wrinkles in places where no other human being has wrinkles. His forehead is narrow and retreating, his eyes very light, with a strange scaly look, not a pair in size, colour, or movement, and set too close together in a large, gaunt face. His nose, hooked at the end until it almost touches his upper lip, is unusually bony and is bent over to the left as though from a blow. His coarse-lipped, stupid mouth is creased with slashes like cuts. One of his unpleasant peculiarities is what Louis calls "crow's-feet between the eyes."The next to the last day at Maraki Lloyd and I went ashore with the captain, who had, as he said, "business to attend to" with a missionary. (The Hawaiian missionary who was to travel in theMorning Starwith our dear Maka of Butaritari.) I knew the business had something to do with a tapu put upon Peter Grant some six months ago, but that a concerted attack was to be made upon the old missionary I did not suspect or I should never have gone. We were met by my friend the young Hawaiian, who accompanied us to the missionaries' house. There the best seat was offered me, all being received with dignified hospitality as they dropped in, one horror after another. Little Peter was appointed interpreter. The missionary was charged, first, with having instigated the natives to tapu Peter Grant. It was supposed he denied this, but in reality he did not. Head and shoulders above the rest he sat, a fine, massive figure, with impenetrable Chinese eyes, master of the situation. I only noticed once any sign of perturbation in him; that was when the head of the "old men" was brought in to be questioned. The missionary made a quick attempt to put the old man on his guard, but was instantly checked by a trader, who leaped to his feet and shook his fist in the missionary's face, ordering him to be silent. The missionary smiled contemptuously, but a thick sweat gathered upon his face and neck, his hands trembled slightly, and his great chest rose and fell, slowly and heavily. Feeling that to gaze upon him was an indelicacy, though I was doing so in sympathy and admiration, I made a slight movement to turn away; as though he knew my thought, the missionary suddenly looked me in the eyes with a charming smile, fanned me a moment with a fan that lay beside him, then handed me the fan with a bow.Fortunately, the attempt to warn the "old man" had been enough, for he seemed idiotic in his apparent endeavours to understand what was wanted of him. The charge against the missionary then changed to theft. He was said to have stolen a murdered man's property. In answer to that he said: "Then place the affair in the hands of either the first man-of-war that comes to the group or theMorning Star," which is daily expected. The traders all cried out with fury at the mention of theMorning Star, and, all speaking at once, charged him with instigating the natives to all sorts of evil when he should be setting them a good example. For the first time he retorted, saying that the missionaries came only to try to make the people better, and that the only difficulty was the wickedness of the white men. I am sorry to say that I got the impression that there was something in danger of being discovered which would have been to the disadvantage of the missionary, but not exactly what the traders were looking for. They were too stupid to see that, and were forced to come to a pause, having gained nothing. Both Lloyd and I had a distressed feeling that we might be confounded with their party in the mind of the missionary, but he reassured us with his eyes, and, pushing aside those in his way, shook hands with Lloyd and then with me. I held his hand and pressed it and said all that eyes and smile could manage.As we went out of the house the missionary's wife made me a present of a fowl. The Hawaiian joined us as we passed his place and his wife ran out with another fowl. I had made up a little parcel for her, a red comb, a bead necklace, a bottle of fine scent, and a striped blue-and-white summer jersey, with a large silk handkerchief for her husband. The next day they, with their little daughter, came to pay us a visit on board, fetching with them three young fowls and a very fine, beautiful mat of a pattern I had not seen before. Louis was greatly pleased with my friends and promised to send the man his photograph. When he said good-bye, to our surprise he asked for Louis's card, which was a piece of civilisation we were not prepared for. We have touched at no island where there has not been at least one person we were sorry to leave and should be glad to meet again, though this was the only place where these friends were foreign to the land.[19]A political refugee from Samoa.[20]Fresh palm toddy tastes like sweet champagne and is very wholesome; sour or fermented toddy is quite another thing.[21]Retainers[22]Raw fish may seem a strange delicacy for a sick man, but, properly prepared, there is nothing better than fresh raw mullet. I first learned this in Tautira, a lovely native village on the "wild side" of Tahiti. My husband was alarmingly ill with pneumonia, and had sunk into a state of coma. There was no way to reach civilisation except by means of our yacht, theCasco—and theCasco—was gone to Papeete to have her masts repaired. Crushed by this catastrophe I was gazing stupidly out over the village green, trying to gather my wits together, when my attention was distracted for a moment by the spectacle of a tall, graceful, native woman entering the house of the chief of Tautira, amid the acclamations of a great crowd. I vaguely remembered that for many days there had been preparations making for an expected visit from Moe, "the great princess." In about half an hour there was a tap at our door; there stood Moe with a plate of raw fish prepared with miti sauce. Speaking perfect English, she told me that she had heard there was a sick foreigner in the village whose wife was troubled because he would not eat, so, she said, she had made this dish herself, and if we could only get him to taste it he would eat more, and convalescence would follow immediately. At first Louis turned his head to one side wearily without opening his eyes, but by the advice of the princess I slipped a morsel between his lips; to my surprise he swallowed the bit, then another, and finally opened his eyes and asked: "What's that?" Several times a day the princess came with her plate of fish and miti sauce, which was soon eagerly watched for and devoured by my invalid, and within the week Louis had so far recovered as to be able to walk over to the chief's house, where we took up our abode with him and Moe.The raw fish, as prepared in Tahiti, instead of being revolting in appearance, as one might imagine, is as pleasing to the sight as to the taste. The fresh white meat of the mullet is cut into neat little strips about half an inch wide and a couple of inches long and laid side by side on a plate—of course it is carefully freed from skin and bones—and covered with miti sauce. Miti sauce is made of milk pressed from cocoanut meats (an entirely different thing from the refreshing water of the green drinking nut), mixed with about one third the quantity of lime-juice, a few tiny bits of the wild red pepper, and a little sea water. This sauce seems to cook the fish, which takes on a curdled look, and curls up a little at the edges as though it had just been boiled.[23]Tin Jack came to a sad end. He possessed a certain fixed income, which, however, was not large enough for Jack's ideas, so he spent most of the year as a South Sea trader, using the whole of his year's income in one wild burst of dissipation in the town of Sydney. One of his favourite amusements was to hire a hansom cab for the day, put the driver inside, and drive the vehicle himself, calling upon various passers-by to join him at the nearest public house. Some years ago when Jack was at his station he received word that his trustee, who was in charge of his property, had levanted with it all. Whereupon poor Jack put a pistol to his head and blew out what brains he possessed. He was a beautiful creature, terribly annoying at times, but with something childlike and appealing—I think he was close to what the Scotch call a natural—that made one forgive pranks in him that would be unforgivable in others. He was very proud of being the original of "Tommy Hadden" in the "Wrecker," and carried the book wherever he went.

[1]We had met the Hawaiian missionary Maka and his wife Mary on our second South Sea cruise at Butaritari, one of the low islands belonging to the Kingsmill group. Maka and his wife being away at the time, by the advice of the resident trader we had burglariously entered and taken possession of the missionaries' comfortable little wooden house, where we made ourselves at home while we complacently awaited the arrival of our involuntary host. Having thus identified ourselves with the missionary party, and laid ourselves under such heavy obligations to them, we felt bound to forego many amusements and friendships, otherwise interesting, that would have been objectionable to Maka. However, during the time of the great festival, when the neighbouring islanders of Little Makin (called by the traders "Little Muggin") came over, in answer to a challenge from the Butaritaris to dance against them for what sportsmen would call "the championship," Maka retired into discreet obscurity, giving us an opportunity to become acquainted with the King of Little Makin and to attend the heathen dances. But Maka and Mary remained our most real friends in spite of our momentary defection toward Makin. When we left Butaritari we could find nothing suitable to offer them as parting gifts, in the island fashion, and to show our gratitude for their many almost overwhelming kindnesses; hence the silk dress and clergyman's frock coat. Two other friends, consistent converts to Christianity, to whom we also carried presents, we left behind us with regret, Nan Tok and his wife; but they were of a different sort from Maka and Mary, being natives of Butaritari and, from Maka's point of view, quite uncivilised, as, in ordinary life the lady (there are onlyladiesin the South Seas, woman being a word that is tapu in all society, high or low), a rich, high chief woman, wore theridionly, while for full dress she appeared in a white chemise fresh from the trader's shelves with the marks where it had been folded still showing. My first meeting with Nan Tok and his wife was rather alarming. The King had raised the tapu from drink, consequently, the entire island, including his dull majesty, was wildly drunk on "sour toddy" (the fermented sap of the flower-stalk of the cocoanut), which is the most dangerous intoxicant in the world, as it incites in its users a frenzied desire to shed blood. During this period of licence I accidentally came upon two women fighting together like wild beasts, their teeth sunk into each other's faces, which were streaming blood. "Oh, what is the matter?" I cried. "Sour toddy," replied the woman to whom I spoke, casting a contemptuous glance over her shoulder as she passed on.

In the circumstances it was thought unsafe for me to leave our own small premises, but one quiet afternoon I broke bounds and went over to the weather side of the island to hunt for shells. Here a strange man and woman joined me; they were not reassuring companions, judging from outer appearances, as they were unkempt, clad in nothing but a small fragment, each, of dirty, old gunny sack, and their faces were haggard and anxious. At first they walked with me as I went about my business of gathering shells, but presently, seeming to tire of this amusement, they began to crowd me off the beach toward the land; then seizing me by the arms, one on either side, they boldly marched me into a narrow, crooked path that led through the clustering cocoanut-trees with which the island was heavily wooded. As I reluctantly moved along beside my captors, the lady, evidently with a kindly feeling for my comfort, drew a clay pipe from out an enormous hole in her ear, stuffed it with strong, coarse tobacco, lighted it, puffed a moment, and then placed it in my mouth. As I could not guess whether their intentions were hostile or otherwise and all the warnings I had received flashed through my mind, with sublime courage I accepted the situation. But it was a solemn experience. We emerged from the palms to find the town in a turbulent uproar, the street in front of our house filled with a howling, fighting, drunken mob. It was a great relief to find we were just in front of my own door; the two natives held me fast until we were safely on the little veranda, when, to my astonishment, the man fell on his knees and offered up a fervent prayer.

So began our friendship with Nan Tok and his wife (my husband always called them the "baron and baroness"). They told us afterward with what anxiety they had watched me wander through the woods alone; then how, after a heated argument as to the proper means to pursue, they concluded to force me back to safety. The incident of the pipe was an attempt to conciliate me because of a supposed fiery gleam in my eyes that disconcerted them. The prayer was one of thanks for the outcome of their adventure and a petition that this should prove the beginning of a new friendship that should be blessed to us all.

[2]This flag was designed on a former cruise after we had left Apemama, the principal of the three islands comprising the group under King Tembinoka, the last of the absolute monarchs of the South Seas. The King had asked that we send him a flag, so one evening, on board the schoonerEquator, we each drew and coloured a flag. These were voted on by the ship's company. It happened that mine was unanimously chosen. The three cross-bars, red, yellow, and green, were intended to stand for the three islands, while the black shark lying across the bars was meant to be typical of Tembinoka's ancestry. The King's line was not lost in obscurity; he gave us almost embarrassing details of the first of his forebears, who sprang from a liaison between a beautiful lady and a shark. The drawings I made on theEquatorwere taken to a firm in Sydney that did such work; they turned out a couple of very gorgeous flags that were quite to the taste of his majesty. The house flag had a white crown over the head of the shark (a little different shape from that on the island flag). I chose for the motto "I bite triply," which referred not only to the King's three islands, but to the three rows of teeth peculiar to the shark.

[3]Very few flowers are found in the atolls, wherefore the natives, who use wreaths for every festive occasion, are forced to devise all sorts of makeshifts for the garlands that are considered almost necessities. I have seen only two flowers that seem indigenous to the true atoll, one quite insignificant, that looked like the blossom of the malepapaia, the other a sort of "spider lily"; both these were of a whitish colour, and, as far as I could see, were worn only by people of position, and not by the common herd, who contented themselves with imitations made from some part of the cocoanut-tree. I wish those artistic souls, who so scorned my purchases at the milliner's, could have seen with what frantic joy they were received. Many times staid matrons burst into sudden hysterical weeping when I offered them my wreaths, while kings, chiefs, and even white traders intrigued to gain one of these coveted possessions.

[4]As all mine and most of Louis's were burned, except what I had on my feet, I wished to preserve these for such times as it might seem necessary to make a civilised appearance.

[5]He used this afterward, but as it seems to belong to my diary I thought I might let it stand.

[6]Sitione was suffering from the effects of an old wound got in the last wars, some of the bones in his shoulder being shattered; they were finally removed, and Sitione recovered entirely with only a scar or two to show where the doctor had operated. Sitione, I was told, received this wound while doing a very brave and dashing act. During one of the many Samoan wars his party had fallen back a short distance, leaving an open space between them and the enemy; in this opening Sitione perceived that a friend of his had fallen and was unable to arise. The enemy were already rushing forward to take the man's head, as is their custom, when Sitione bounded back in the face of their guns, caught up his friend, and brought him into safety with a hail of bullets whizzing after him, and a shattered shoulder.

[7]The "labour boys" do, sometimes, die of homesickness. A black boy called Arriki whom we hired from the German firm, did so die after we left Samoa. The man to whom he was assigned by the German firm told me that both Arriki and a friend of his began to droop and become sullen, and then went quite mad; soon after they died at about the same time from no apparent disease, but he said he knew the symptoms—"just plain homesickness for a cannibal island." Arriki, in a moment of confidence, once described to me his life in his own land. It seemed to consist of flight from one unsafe spot to another, with death hunting on every hand. Both his father and mother had been killed and eaten, with the most of his friends; and yet Arriki died of homesickness.

[8]We forgot it on the nineteenth, which was the real anniversary, but thought there would be no harm in a belated celebration.

[9]Two somewhat picturesque desperadoes of the South Seas, now dead fortunately for the rest of the world.

[10]We made a former cruise, our second, in theEquator, a little trading schooner.

[11]This must have been a high-low island, though in many atolls the earth is brought in schooner loads in which trees and flowers flourish.

[12]Theridiis the only garment worn by the women in most of the atolls. It is a thick fringe, shorter or longer, according to the prevailing fashion inridis, made of pandanus leaves cut in strips, oiled, and smoked. In the Gilberts a man may not lay his hands on aridiunder penalty of death, even when the garment is not in active service.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We have now seen the South Sea "bad man" of the story-books, Peter Grant. He always comes with "Little Peter," a kindly, simple lad who has been on the island since he was thirteen and speaks excellent English with the native tossing and eyebrow lifting. (Little Peter died from poisoning some years after; it was supposed to be a murder.) Peter Grant is the most hideous ruffian I have ever beheld. The skin of his face has the quality of a burn scar and is crossed with wrinkles in places where no other human being has wrinkles. His forehead is narrow and retreating, his eyes very light, with a strange scaly look, not a pair in size, colour, or movement, and set too close together in a large, gaunt face. His nose, hooked at the end until it almost touches his upper lip, is unusually bony and is bent over to the left as though from a blow. His coarse-lipped, stupid mouth is creased with slashes like cuts. One of his unpleasant peculiarities is what Louis calls "crow's-feet between the eyes."

The next to the last day at Maraki Lloyd and I went ashore with the captain, who had, as he said, "business to attend to" with a missionary. (The Hawaiian missionary who was to travel in theMorning Starwith our dear Maka of Butaritari.) I knew the business had something to do with a tapu put upon Peter Grant some six months ago, but that a concerted attack was to be made upon the old missionary I did not suspect or I should never have gone. We were met by my friend the young Hawaiian, who accompanied us to the missionaries' house. There the best seat was offered me, all being received with dignified hospitality as they dropped in, one horror after another. Little Peter was appointed interpreter. The missionary was charged, first, with having instigated the natives to tapu Peter Grant. It was supposed he denied this, but in reality he did not. Head and shoulders above the rest he sat, a fine, massive figure, with impenetrable Chinese eyes, master of the situation. I only noticed once any sign of perturbation in him; that was when the head of the "old men" was brought in to be questioned. The missionary made a quick attempt to put the old man on his guard, but was instantly checked by a trader, who leaped to his feet and shook his fist in the missionary's face, ordering him to be silent. The missionary smiled contemptuously, but a thick sweat gathered upon his face and neck, his hands trembled slightly, and his great chest rose and fell, slowly and heavily. Feeling that to gaze upon him was an indelicacy, though I was doing so in sympathy and admiration, I made a slight movement to turn away; as though he knew my thought, the missionary suddenly looked me in the eyes with a charming smile, fanned me a moment with a fan that lay beside him, then handed me the fan with a bow.

Fortunately, the attempt to warn the "old man" had been enough, for he seemed idiotic in his apparent endeavours to understand what was wanted of him. The charge against the missionary then changed to theft. He was said to have stolen a murdered man's property. In answer to that he said: "Then place the affair in the hands of either the first man-of-war that comes to the group or theMorning Star," which is daily expected. The traders all cried out with fury at the mention of theMorning Star, and, all speaking at once, charged him with instigating the natives to all sorts of evil when he should be setting them a good example. For the first time he retorted, saying that the missionaries came only to try to make the people better, and that the only difficulty was the wickedness of the white men. I am sorry to say that I got the impression that there was something in danger of being discovered which would have been to the disadvantage of the missionary, but not exactly what the traders were looking for. They were too stupid to see that, and were forced to come to a pause, having gained nothing. Both Lloyd and I had a distressed feeling that we might be confounded with their party in the mind of the missionary, but he reassured us with his eyes, and, pushing aside those in his way, shook hands with Lloyd and then with me. I held his hand and pressed it and said all that eyes and smile could manage.

As we went out of the house the missionary's wife made me a present of a fowl. The Hawaiian joined us as we passed his place and his wife ran out with another fowl. I had made up a little parcel for her, a red comb, a bead necklace, a bottle of fine scent, and a striped blue-and-white summer jersey, with a large silk handkerchief for her husband. The next day they, with their little daughter, came to pay us a visit on board, fetching with them three young fowls and a very fine, beautiful mat of a pattern I had not seen before. Louis was greatly pleased with my friends and promised to send the man his photograph. When he said good-bye, to our surprise he asked for Louis's card, which was a piece of civilisation we were not prepared for. We have touched at no island where there has not been at least one person we were sorry to leave and should be glad to meet again, though this was the only place where these friends were foreign to the land.

[19]A political refugee from Samoa.

[20]Fresh palm toddy tastes like sweet champagne and is very wholesome; sour or fermented toddy is quite another thing.

[21]Retainers

[22]Raw fish may seem a strange delicacy for a sick man, but, properly prepared, there is nothing better than fresh raw mullet. I first learned this in Tautira, a lovely native village on the "wild side" of Tahiti. My husband was alarmingly ill with pneumonia, and had sunk into a state of coma. There was no way to reach civilisation except by means of our yacht, theCasco—and theCasco—was gone to Papeete to have her masts repaired. Crushed by this catastrophe I was gazing stupidly out over the village green, trying to gather my wits together, when my attention was distracted for a moment by the spectacle of a tall, graceful, native woman entering the house of the chief of Tautira, amid the acclamations of a great crowd. I vaguely remembered that for many days there had been preparations making for an expected visit from Moe, "the great princess." In about half an hour there was a tap at our door; there stood Moe with a plate of raw fish prepared with miti sauce. Speaking perfect English, she told me that she had heard there was a sick foreigner in the village whose wife was troubled because he would not eat, so, she said, she had made this dish herself, and if we could only get him to taste it he would eat more, and convalescence would follow immediately. At first Louis turned his head to one side wearily without opening his eyes, but by the advice of the princess I slipped a morsel between his lips; to my surprise he swallowed the bit, then another, and finally opened his eyes and asked: "What's that?" Several times a day the princess came with her plate of fish and miti sauce, which was soon eagerly watched for and devoured by my invalid, and within the week Louis had so far recovered as to be able to walk over to the chief's house, where we took up our abode with him and Moe.

The raw fish, as prepared in Tahiti, instead of being revolting in appearance, as one might imagine, is as pleasing to the sight as to the taste. The fresh white meat of the mullet is cut into neat little strips about half an inch wide and a couple of inches long and laid side by side on a plate—of course it is carefully freed from skin and bones—and covered with miti sauce. Miti sauce is made of milk pressed from cocoanut meats (an entirely different thing from the refreshing water of the green drinking nut), mixed with about one third the quantity of lime-juice, a few tiny bits of the wild red pepper, and a little sea water. This sauce seems to cook the fish, which takes on a curdled look, and curls up a little at the edges as though it had just been boiled.

[23]Tin Jack came to a sad end. He possessed a certain fixed income, which, however, was not large enough for Jack's ideas, so he spent most of the year as a South Sea trader, using the whole of his year's income in one wild burst of dissipation in the town of Sydney. One of his favourite amusements was to hire a hansom cab for the day, put the driver inside, and drive the vehicle himself, calling upon various passers-by to join him at the nearest public house. Some years ago when Jack was at his station he received word that his trustee, who was in charge of his property, had levanted with it all. Whereupon poor Jack put a pistol to his head and blew out what brains he possessed. He was a beautiful creature, terribly annoying at times, but with something childlike and appealing—I think he was close to what the Scotch call a natural—that made one forgive pranks in him that would be unforgivable in others. He was very proud of being the original of "Tommy Hadden" in the "Wrecker," and carried the book wherever he went.

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:Obvious printer errors have been corrected. Otherwise, the author's original spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been left intact.

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:

Obvious printer errors have been corrected. Otherwise, the author's original spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been left intact.

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