Part 9 (1/2)
Night crept across the wide sea, and a golden sunset was followed by a long afterglow. Far away on the softly s.h.i.+ning silver we saw a sail, small as a fly, that drifted slowly seaward and was swallowed up by the darkness, from which the stars emerged one by one. The women had disappeared in the huts; the men were sitting outside, around the fires, and, thinking I was asleep, talked about me in b.i.+.c.he la mar.
First they wondered why a man should care to climb up a mountain simply to come down again; and my boys told them of all my doings, about my collecting curios and skulls, of my former wanderings and the experiences we had had, and how often the others had tried to shoot me, etc. In short, I found out a great many things I had never known, and I s.h.i.+vered a little at hearing what I had escaped, if all the boys said was true. At last, when I had been sufficiently discussed, which was long after midnight, they lay down, each beside a small fire, and snored into the cool, clear night.
The following morning was brilliantly fine. We took a hearty leave of our hosts, and raced, singing and shouting, down the steep hills, and so home. The fine weather was at an end. The sky was cloudy, the barometer fell and a thin rain pierced everything. Two days later the steamer arrived, and I meant to go aboard, but a heavy swell from the west set in, such as I had never seen before, although not a breath of wind was stirring. These rollers were caused by a cyclone, and gave us some idea of its violence. I despaired of ever reaching the steamer, but Mr. B. was an expert sailor, and making the most of a slight lull, he brought me safely through the surf and on board. His goods, however, could not be loaded on to the steamer, which immediately sailed. We pa.s.sed New Year's Eve and New Year's Day at anchor in South-West Bay, Malekula, while a terrific gale whipped the water horizontally toward the s.h.i.+p and across the deck. We spent gloomy holidays, shut up in the damp, dark steamer, unable to stay on deck, restless and uncomfortable below. How one learns to appreciate the British impa.s.siveness which helps one, in such conditions, to spend a perfectly happy day with a pipe and a talk about the weather!
On the morning of the third day we lay off the east coast of Malekula, on a blue, s.h.i.+ning sea, with all the landscape as peaceful and bright as if there were no such thing as a cyclone in the world.
I landed, packed my collections, which I had left in Vao, and, with the help of a missionary, I reached Bushman Bay, whence Mr. H. kindly took me to Vila. There H.B.M. Resident Commissioner, Mr. Morton King, did me the honour of offering me his hospitality, so that I was suddenly transplanted to all the luxuries of civilized life once more. I spent the days packing the collections awaiting me at Vila, and which I found in fairly good condition; the evenings were pa.s.sed in the interesting society of Mr. King, who had travelled extensively and was an authority on matters relating to the Orient. He inspired me with admiration for the British system of colonial politics with its truly idealistic tendencies. The weeks I spent at Port Vila will always be a pleasant memory of a time of rest and comfort and stimulating intercourse.
In February I left for Noumea, where I hoped to meet two friends and colleagues, Dr. Fritz Sarasin and Dr. Jean Roux, who were coming to New Caledonia in order to pursue studies similar to mine. The time I spent with them was rich in interest and encouragement, and in March I returned to the New Hebrides with renewed energy.
CHAPTER XI
AMBRYM
It was a miserable little boat in which I sailed from Noumea. We were to have started on a Monday, but it was Friday before we got off. The boat was overloaded. On deck there was a quant.i.ty of timber, also cattle, pigs, sheep and calves, all very seasick and uncomfortable. The deck was almost on a level with the water, and even while still inside the reef occasional waves broke over the gunwale and flooded the s.h.i.+p. At nightfall we entered the open ocean. Now the waves began to pour on to the deck from all sides, and the bow of the vessel dived into the sea as if it were never going to rise again. The night was dark, shreds of cloud raced across a steel-grey sky, while a greenish patch showed the position of the moon. At the horizon glistened an uncertain light, but the sea was a black abyss, out of which the phosph.o.r.escent waves appeared suddenly, rolled swiftly nearer and broke over the s.h.i.+p as if poured down from above.
I looked on without another thought save that of pity for the poor sick calves, when the captain whispered in my ear that things looked bad, as the s.h.i.+p was much too heavily loaded. In the darkness I could see nothing but that the boat was very deep in the water, and that her bow, instead of rising on the waves, dug into them. On deck a quant.i.ty of water ran backward and forward in a wave as high as the bulwarks, and it seemed as if the s.h.i.+p could scarcely right herself when once she lay over on one side. The growing excitement of the captain, his nervous consultations with the engineer and the supercargo, were most uncomfortable; presently the pa.s.sengers began to take part in the deliberations, and to observe the behaviour of the s.h.i.+p. As our course gave us a sidewise current, the captain ordered the sails to be hoisted, in order to lessen the rolling; but the sea was too heavy, and we s.h.i.+pped still more water and rolled alarmingly. The captain sighed, ran hither and thither, then lowered the sails and took a more westerly course, in the direction of one of the Loyalty Islands; thus we had the current from behind, which made things still worse, as the sea, rolling along the s.h.i.+p, filled the deck from both sides; and as the bulwarks were blocked up by the lumber, the water could not run off, thus adding an enormous weight to the already overloaded s.h.i.+p; the water ran forward, pressing down the bow, while the stern reared upward.
When the captain saw the state of affairs, he lost his head completely, and began to lament piteously: ”We do not want to drown, no, we do not want to drown; but we are going to. Oh, my poor wife and children! Do you like to drown, doctor?” I denied this energetically, but I could not help looking at the dark sea and trying to get used to the idea of a closer acquaintance with it. The feeling of insecurity was increased by the knowledge that the boat was old and in poor repair, and might spring a leak at any moment.
Meanwhile the skipper had turned her round and was making headway against the waves, but still her bow would not lift, and the captain wept still more. His womanish behaviour disgusted me. At last a quiet pa.s.senger, an experienced sailor, gave some advice, which the skipper followed, and which helped matters a little, so that he regained his self-control to the extent of calling a general council; he announced that he dared not continue the voyage, and asked our consent to return to Noumea. We all agreed, and about midnight we approached the reef. Now there are lights in the pa.s.sage, but they are so poor as to be invisible until the traveller is already in the pa.s.sage, so that they are of little use. We were trying to find the entrance, when the experienced seaman I mentioned before, who was keeping a look out, called out that we were close to the breakers and surrounded by the reef. The only thing we could do was to turn seaward again and beat about till daylight. After some hours the wind fell and the worst was over; still, the night was unpleasant enough, and frequent squalls kept us awake. We were all glad when the day broke and we were able to enter the pa.s.sage. We landed at Noumea in the finest of weather, and our unexpected return created quite a sensation. We pa.s.sengers convinced ourselves that the cargo was considerably reduced before starting out again the next day.
This time we arrived safely at Port Vila, where the British and French native police forces came aboard, bound for Santo, to quell a disturbance at Hog Harbour; and so the hapless boat was overloaded again, this time with pa.s.sengers.
Next day we arrived at Epi, and I landed at Ringdove Bay. The station of the Messrs. F. and H. is one of the oldest in the islands. Besides running a plantation, they trade with the natives, and their small cutters go to all the neighbouring islands for coprah and other produce. There is always plenty of life and movement at the station, as there are usually a few of the vessels lying at anchor, and natives coming in from all sides in their whale-boats to buy or sell something. From Malekula one can often see them tacking about all day, or, if there is a calm, drifting slowly along, as they are too lazy to row. When they have found the pa.s.sage through the reef, they pull down the sails with much noise and laughter, and come to anchor; then the whole crowd wades through the surf to the sh.o.r.e, with the loads of coprah, and waits patiently for business to begin.
On these stations, where almost everyone is squeezed into decent European clothes, it is a charming sight to see the naked bodies of the genuine savages, all the more so as only young and able-bodied men take part in these cruises, under the leaders.h.i.+p of one older and more experienced companion. Their beauty is doubly striking beside the poor station hands, wrapped in filthy calico.
When the coprah has been bought and paid for, they all go to the store, where they buy whatever they need or think they need. The native of the coast districts to-day goes beyond needs to luxuries; he buys costly silks, such as he may once have seen in Queensland, and he samples sewing-machines or whatever else tempts him. In consequence of compet.i.tion, the prices for coprah and the wages of labour are unreasonably high, and the natives might profit greatly by this state of things if they knew the value of money or how to use it to advantage. But, as a rule, they spend it for any nonsense they may fancy, to the joy of the trader, who makes an average profit of 50 per cent. on all commodities; or else the natives economize to buy a pig (tusked pigs have brought as much as forty pounds), or they bury their money.
It is astonis.h.i.+ng how easily a native might make a small fortune here, and how little use he makes of his opportunities, not only from laziness, but also because he has no wants. Nature supplies food in abundance without any effort on his part, so that matches, tobacco, a pipe and a knife satisfy all his needs, and he can spend all the rest of his money for pleasure. Thus the native, in spite of everything, is economically master of the situation in his own country, and many traders have been made to realize this fact to their cost, when the natives, to avenge some ill-treatment, have simply boycotted a station. Needless to say that the traders always do their best to excite the natives' cupidity by exhibiting the most tempting objects, and, careful as the islander may be when buying necessaries, he is careless enough when luxuries are in question.
The house of the planters is a long, low building with whitewashed walls, a broad, flat roof and wide verandas. Around it is an abandoned garden, and one feels that long ago a woman's hand must have worked here; but now no one cares about keeping the surroundings clean and pretty, and the wilderness is reclaiming its own and advancing steadily towards the house. Inside, the house is clean and neat; from the veranda there is a splendid view over the sea, in which the sun disappears at evening.
The employes are quiet people, who have but little to say; the weather and speculations as to the name and destination of some far-off sail are their chief topics. After lunch they sit in easy-chairs, enjoying the breeze and reading the papers. Soon the ”Bubu” calls to work once more, and the natives come creeping out of their huts, away from their ever-burning fires.
The production of coprah varies greatly on the different islands. While on some of them there is scarcely any to be had, there are others which are practically covered with cocoa-nut trees; this is chiefly the case on islands of volcanic origin, on which springs and rivers are very scarce. It has been supposed that the natives, being dependent on the water of the cocoa-nut as a beverage, had planted these trees very extensively. This is not quite exact, although it is a fact that in these islands the natives hardly ever taste any other water than that of the cocoa-nut.
In sun and shower, the natives work in the plantations in long rows, the women together with their husbands or with other women at some lighter task. The men dislike to be separated from their wives, for they are very jealous; neither do they approve of the women discussing their husbands among themselves. For light work the women are more useful, as they are more accustomed to regular work from their youth up than the men, who are used to spending their days in easy laziness.
Towards sunset, the ”Bubu” announces the end of work, and the natives stroll towards their quarters, simple huts of straw, where each man has his couch, with a trunk underneath containing his belongings. Meals are prepared by a cook, and the men go to fetch their rations, rice, yam, or taro. Sometimes there is meat, but not often, except in places where wild pig is plentiful. In that case, it is simplest for the master to send his boys shooting every Sunday, when it depends on themselves if they are to have meat during the coming week or not. After the meal, the natives sit round the fires chatting, gossiping and telling fairy-tales. They know stories of all sorts of monsters and demons, and excite each other by tales of these horrors to such a degree, that bad dreams or even a general panic are often the consequence, and the whole crowd turns out in the middle of the night, declaring that the place is haunted, and that they have seen a devil, who looked thus and so. If someone suddenly dies in a hut, it is worst of all. Death is invariably caused, so they all believe, by poison or witchcraft, and the natives will build another house of their own accord rather than go on living in one they consider haunted. If a planter loses many hands by death, his plantation gets a bad reputation, and the natives refuse to work there; so that it is to the planter's advantage to take some care of their labourers, and they do so to a certain extent, whereas in former years the mortality on French plantations was very high, as much as 44 per cent. per annum.
Sometimes, especially on moonlight nights, the boys wish to dance, and they all go to the beach and spend the whole night singing and dancing. Another amus.e.m.e.nt is hunting for crayfish on the reef at low tide.
My boys' term of service was over in a month. They were very much afraid of being taken to another island, which was natural in a way, as a savage is really not as safe in a strange place as a white man. Besides, they had had their desire and had seen Noumea, so that there was no longer any inducement for them to stay with me. They accordingly became most disagreeable, slow, sulky and sleepier than ever, and as I could not be punis.h.i.+ng them all day long, life with them became somewhat trying. It is disappointing to find so little grat.i.tude, but the natives are quite unaccustomed to be treated better by a white man than his interest demands, so that they suspect a trap in every act of kindness. Under the circ.u.mstances, I thought it best to dismiss my boys, and, finding little of interest in Epi, the natives having nearly all died out, I boarded the Australian steamer for Ambrym.