Produced by Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net/ Two Years with the Natives in the Western Pacific By Dr. Felix Speiser With 40 illustrations from photographs and a map PREFACE This book is a collection of sketches written on lonely evenings during my voyage; some of them have been published in daily papers, and were so kindly received by the public as to encourage me to issue them in book form. In order to retain the freshness of first impressions, the original form has been but slightly changed, and only so much ethnological detail has been added as will help to an understanding of native life. The book does not pretend to give a scientific description of the people of the New Hebrides; that will appear later; it is meant simply to transmit some of the indelible impressions the traveller was privileged to receive,--impressions both stern and sweet. The author will be amply repaid if he succeeds in giving the reader some slight idea of the charm and the terrors of the islands. He will be proud if his words can convey a vision of the incomparable beauty and peacefulness of the glittering lagoon, and of the sublimity of the virgin forest; if the reader can divine the charm of the native when gay and friendly, and his ferocity when gloomy and hostile. I have set down some of the joys and some of the hardships of an explorer's life; and I received so many kindnesses from all the white colonists I met, that one great object of my writing is to show my gratitude for their friendly help. First of all, I would mention His Britannic Majesty's Resident, Mr. Morton King, who followed my studies with the most sympathetic interest, was my most hospitable host, and, I may venture to say, my friend. I would name Mr. Colonna, Résident de France, Judge Alexander in Port Vila, and Captain Harrowell; in Santo, Rev. Father Bochu, the Messrs. Thomas, Mr. Fysh, Mr. Clapcott; in Malo, Mr. M. Wells and Mr. Jacquier; in Vao, Rev. Father Jamond; in Malekula, Rev. F. Paton, Rev. Jaffrays, Mr. Bird and Mr. Fleming; in Ambrym, Rev. Dr. J. J. Bowie, Mr. Stevens, Mr. Decent; in Pentecoste, Mr. Filmer; in Aoba, Mr. Albert and Rev. Grunling; in Tanna, Rev. Macmillan and Dr. Nicholson; in Venua Lava, Mr. Choyer; in Nitendi, Mr. Matthews. I am also indebted to the Anglican missionaries, especially Rev. H. N. Drummond, and to Captain Sinker of the steam yacht Southern Cross, to the supercargo and captains of the steamers of Burns, Philp & Company. There are many more who assisted me in various ways, often at the expense of their own comfort and interest, and not the least of the impressions I took home with me is, that nowhere can one find wider hospitality or friendlier helpfulness than in these islands. This has helped me to forget so many things that do not impress the traveller favourably. If this book should come under the notice of any of these kind friends, the author would be proud to think that they remember him as pleasantly as he will recall all the friendship he received during his stay in the New Hebrides. BASLE, April 1913. CONTENTS Chap. Page Introduction 1 I. Nouméa and Port Vila 19 II. Maei, Tongoa, Epi and Malekula 28 III. The Segond Channel--Life on a Plantation 35 IV. Recruiting for Natives 53 V. Vao 85 VI. Port Olry and a "Sing-Sing" 109 VII. Santo 136 VIII. Santo (continued)--Pygmies 161 IX. Santo (continued)--Pigs 171 X. Climbing Santo Peak 179 XI. Ambrym 191 XII. Pentecoste 224 XIII. Aoba 241 XIV. Loloway--Malo--The Banks Islands 250 XV. Tanna 270 XVI. The Santa Cruz Islands 277 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Shore in Graciosa Bay Frontispiece Facing page Women From the Reef Islands in Carlisle Bay 3 Native Taro Field on Maevo 10 Man from Nitendi working the Loom 15 A Cannibal before his Hut on Tanna 22 Dancing Table near Port Sandwich 31 Old Man with Young Wife on Ambrym 40 Front of a Chief's House on Venua Lava 47 Man from Nitendi 54 Cannibal from Big Nambas 61 Woman on Nitendi 70 Canoe on Ureparapara 77 Dancing-Ground on Vao, with Ancestor Houses 85 Dancing-Ground on Vao 93 Woman from Tanna 99 House Fences on Vao 106 Gamal near Port Olry 115 Group of Large and Small Drums near Port Sandwich 129 View along the Shore of a Coral Island 136 Interior of a Gamal on Venua Lava 147 Wild Mountain Scenery in the District of the Pygmies 163 Irrigated Taro Field on Santo 179 Dwelling of a Trader on Ambrym 191 View from Hospital--Dip Point 199 Women cooking on Ambrym 205 Fern Trees on Ambrym 218 Group of Drums and Statues on Malekula 227 Cooking-House on Aoba 241 Fire-Rubbing 244 Tattooing on Aoba 251 Dwelling-House on Gaua 255 Ancestor-House on Gaua 258 Drum Concert on Ureparapara 261 Interior of a Gamal on Gaua 264 Men from Tanna 270 Women from Tanna 272 Canoe from Nitendi 277 Man from Nitendi, Shooting 279 Man from Nitendi, with Pearl Shell Nose 284 Man from Tucopia 287 Map 291 TWO YEARS WITH THE NATIVES IN THE WESTERN PACIFIC INTRODUCTION Late in the sixteenth century the Spaniards made several voyages in search of a continent in the southern part of the great Pacific Ocean. Alvara Mendana de Neyra, starting in 1568 from the west coast of South America and following about the sixth degree southern latitude, found the Solomon Islands, which he took for parts of the desired continent. In 1595 he undertook another voyage, keeping a more southerly course, and discovered the Queen Charlotte Islands; the largest of these, Nitendi, he called Santa Cruz, and gave the fitting name of Graciosa Bay to the lovely cove in which he anchored. He tried to found a colony here, but failed. Mendana died in Santa Cruz, and his lieutenant, Pedro Vernandez de Quiros, led the expedition home. In Europe, Quiros succeeded in interesting the Spanish king, Philip III., in the idea of another voyage, so that in 1603 he was able to set sail from Spain with three ships. Again he reached the Santa Cruz Islands, and sailing southward from there he landed in 1606 on a larger island, which he took for the desired Australian continent and called Tierra Australis del Espiritu Santo; the large bay he named San Iago and San Felipe, and his anchorage Vera Cruz. He stayed here some months and founded the city of New Jerusalem at the mouth of the river Jordan in the curve of the bay. Quiros claims to have made a few sailing trips thence, southward along the east coast of the island; if he had pushed on far enough these cruises might easily have convinced him of the island-nature of the country. Perhaps he was aware of the truth; certainly the lovely descriptions he gave King Philip of the beauties of the new territory are so exaggerated that one may be pardoned for thinking him quite capable of dignifying an island by the name of continent. The inevitable quarrels with the natives, and diseases and mutinies among his crew, forced him to abandon the colony and return home. His lieutenant, Luis Vaez de Torres, separated from him, discovered and passed the Torres Straits, a feat of excellent seamanship. Quiros returned to America. His high-flown descriptions of his discovery did not help him much, for the king simply ignored him, and his reports were buried in the archives. Quiros died in poverty and bitterness, and the only traces of his travels are the names Espiritu Santo, Bay San Iago and San Felipe, and Jordan, in use to this day. No more explorers came to the islands till 1767, when a Frenchman, Carteret, touched at Santa Cruz, and 1768, when Bougainville landed in the northern New Hebrides, leaving his name to the treacherous channel between Malekula and Santo. But all these travellers were thrown into the shade by the immortal discoverer, James Cook, who, in the New Hebrides, as everywhere else, combined into solid scientific material all that his predecessors had left in a state of patchwork. Cook's first voyage made possible the observation of the transit of Venus from one of the islands of the Pacific. His second cruise, in search of the Australian continent, led him, coming from Tongoa, to the New Hebrides, of which he first sighted Maevo. Assisted by two brilliant scientists, Reinhold and George Forster, Cook investigated the archipelago with admirable exactitude, determined the position of the larger islands, made scientific collections of all sorts, and gave us the first reliable descriptions of the country and its people, so that the material he gathered is of the greatest value even at the present day. The group had formerly been known as the "Great Cyclades"; Cook gave it its present name of "New Hebrides." Incited by Cook's surprising results the French Government sent La Pérouse to the islands, but he was shipwrecked in 1788 on Vanikoro, the southern-most of the Santa Cruz group; remains of this wreck were found on Vanikoro a few years ago. In 1789 Bligh sighted the Banks Islands, and in 1793 d'Entrecastaux, sent by Louis XVI. to the rescue of La Pérouse, saw the islands of Santa Cruz. Since that time traffic with the islands became more frequent; among many travellers we may mention the French captain, Dumont d'Urville, and the Englishmen, Belcher and Erskine, who, as well as Markham, have all left interesting accounts. But with Markham we enter that sad period which few islands of the Pacific escaped, in which the scum of the white race carried on their bloodstained trade in whaling products and sandalwood. They terrorized the natives shamelessly, and when these, naturally enough, often resorted to cruel modes of defence, they retaliated with deeds still more frightful, and the bad reputation they themselves made for the natives served them as a welcome excuse for a system of extermination. The horrors of slave-trade were added to piracy, so that in a few decades the native race of the New Hebrides and Banks Islands was so weakened that in many places to-day its preservation seems hopeless. Thus, for the financial advantage of the worst of whites, and from indolence and short-sighted national rivalry, a race was sacrificed which in every respect would be worth preserving, and it is a shameful fact that even to-day such atrocities are not impossible and very little is done to save the islanders from destruction. The only factor opposing these conditions was the Mission, which obtained a foothold in the islands under Bishop John Williams. He was killed in 1839 by the natives of Erromanga, but the Protestant missionaries, especially the Presbyterians, would not be repulsed, and slowly advanced northward, in spite of many losses. To-day the Presbyterian mission occupies all the New Hebrides, with the exception of Pentecoste, Aoba and Maevo. To the north lies the field of the Anglican mission, extending up to the Solomon Islands. In 1848 Roman Catholic missionaries settled in Aneityum, but soon gave up the station; in 1887 they returned and spread all over the archipelago, with the exception of the southern islands and the Banks group. Of late years several representatives of free Protestant sects have come out, but, as a rule, these settle only where they can combine a profitable trade with their mission work. Owing to energetic agitation on the part of the Anglican and Presbyterian Churches, especially of Bishop Patteson and the Rev. J. G. Paton, men-of-war were ordered to the islands on police duty, so as to watch the labour-trade. They could not suppress kidnapping entirely, and the transportation of the natives to Queensland continued until within the last ten years, when it was suppressed by the Australian Government, so that to-day the natives are at least not taken away from their own islands, except those recruited by the French for New Caledonia. Unhappily, England and France could not agree as to who should annex the New Hebrides. Violent agitation in both camps resulted in neither power being willing to leave the islands to the other, as numerical superiority on the French side was counter-balanced by the absolute economical dependence of the colonists upon Australia. England put the group under the jurisdiction of the "Western Pacific," with a high commissioner; France retorted by the so-called purchase of all useful land by the "Société Française des Nouvelles Hébrides," a private company, which spent great sums on the islands in a short time. Several propositions of exchange failed to suit either of the powers, but both feared the interference of a third, and conditions in the islands called urgently for a government; so, in 1887, a dual control was established, each power furnishing a warship and a naval commissioner, who were to unite in keeping order. This was the beginning of the present Condominium, which was signed in 1906 and proclaimed in 1908 in Port Vila; quite a unique form of government and at the same time a most interesting experiment in international administration. The Condominium puts every Englishman or Frenchman under the laws of his own nation, as represented by its officials; so that these two nationalities live as they would in any colony of their own, while all others have to take their choice between these two. Besides the national laws, the Condominium has a few ordinances to regulate the intercourse between the two nations, the sale of liquor and arms to natives, recruiting and treatment of labourers, etc. As the highest instance in the islands and as a supreme tribunal, an international court of six members has been appointed: two Spanish, two Dutch, one English and one French. Thus the higher officials of the Condominium are: One English and one French resident commissioner, One Spanish president of the Court, One English and one French judge, One Dutch registrar, One Spanish prosecuting attorney, One Dutch native advocate, One English and one French police commissioner. The Santa Cruz Islands were annexed by England in 1898 and belong to the jurisdiction of the Solomon Islands. Geography The New Hebrides lie between 165° and 170° east longitude, and reach from 13° to 20° south latitude. The Santa Cruz Islands lie 116° east and 11° south. The New Hebrides and Banks Islands consist of thirteen larger islands and a great number of islets and rocks, covering an area of about 15,900 km. The largest island is Espiritu Santo, about 107 x 57 km., with 4900 km. surface. They are divided into the Torres group, the Banks Islands, the Central and the Southern New Hebrides. The Banks and Torres Islands and the Southern New Hebrides are composed of a number of isolated, scattered islands, while the Central group forms a chain, which divides at Epi into an eastern and a western branch, and encloses a stretch of sea, hemming it in on all sides except the north. On the coast of this inland sea, especially on the western islands, large coral formations have grown, changing what was originally narrow mountain chains, running north and south, to larger islands. Indeed, most of them seem to consist of a volcanic nucleus, on which lie great coral banks, often 200 m. high; these usually drop in five steep steps to the sea, and then merge into the living coral-reef in the water. Most of the islands, therefore, appear as typical table-islands, out of which, in the largest ones, rise the rounded tops of the volcanic stones. They are all very mountainous; the highest point is Santo Peak, 1500 m. high. The tides cause very nasty tide-rips in the narrow channels between the islands of the Central group; but inside, the sea is fairly good, and the reefs offer plenty of anchorage for small craft. Much less safe are the open archipelagoes of the Banks and Torres Islands and of the Southern New Hebrides, where the swell of the open ocean is unbroken by any land and harbours are scarce. There are three active volcanoes on the New Hebrides--the mighty double crater on Ambrym, the steep cone of Lopevi, and the volcano of Tanna. There is a half-extinct volcano on Venua Lava, and many other islands show distinct traces of former volcanic activity, such as Meralava and Ureparapara, one side of which has broken down, so that now there is a smooth bay where once the lava boiled. Rivers are found only on the larger islands, where there are volcanic rocks. In the coral rocks the rain-water oozes rapidly away, so that fresh-water springs are not frequently found, in spite of very considerable rainfall. Climate The climate is not hot and very equable. The average temperature in Efate in 1910 was 24.335° C.; the hottest month was February, with an average of 27.295°, the coolest, July with 11.9° C. The lowest absolute temperature was 11.9° C. in August, and the highest 35.6° C. in March. The average yearly variation, therefore, was 5.48°, and the absolute difference 23.7°. The rainfall is very heavy. In December the maximum, 564 mm., was reached, and in June the minimum, 22 mm. The total rainfall was 3.012 mm., giving a daily average of 8.3 mm. These figures, taken from a table in the Neo-Hebridais, show that the year is divided into a cool, dry season and a hot, damp one. From May to October one enjoys agreeable summer days, bright and cool, with a predominant south-east trade-wind, that rises and falls with the sun and creates a fairly salubrious climate. From November to April the atmosphere is heavy and damp, and one squall follows another. Often there is no wind, or the wind changes quickly and comes in heavy gusts from the north-west. This season is the time for cyclones, which occur at least once a year; happily, their centre rarely touches the islands, as they lie somewhat out of the regular cyclone track. A similar climate, with but slightly higher temperature, prevails on the Santa Cruz Islands. Flora and Fauna The vegetation of the New Hebrides is luxurious enough to make all later visitors share Quiros' amazement. The possibilities for the planter are nearly inexhaustible, and the greatest difficulty is that of keeping the plantations from the constant encroachments of the forest. Yet the flora is poorer in forms than that of Asiatic regions, and in the southern islands it is said to be much like that of New Caledonia. As a rule, thick forest covers the islands; only rarely we find areas covered with reed-grass. On Erromanga these are more frequent. In the Santa Cruz Islands the flora seems richer than in the New Hebrides. Still more simple than the flora is the fauna. Of mammals there are only the pig, dog, a flying-fox and the rat, of which the first two have probably been imported by the natives. There are but few birds, reptiles and amphibies, but the few species there are are very prolific, so that we find swarms of lizards and snakes, the latter all harmless Boidæ, but occasionally of considerable size. Crocodiles are found only in the Santa Cruz Islands, and do not grow so large there as in the Solomon Islands. Animal life in the sea is very rich; turtles and many kinds of fish and Cetaceæ are plentiful. Native Population The natives belong to the Melanesian race, which is a collective name for the dark-skinned, curly-haired, bearded inhabitants of the Pacific. The Melanesians are quite distinct from the Australians, and still more so from the lank-haired, light-skinned Polynesians of the eastern islands. Probably a mixture of Polynesians and Melanesians are the Micronesians, who are light-skinned but curly-haired, and of whom we find representatives in the New Hebrides. The island-nature of the archipelago is very favourable to race-mixture; and as we know that on some islands there were several settlements of Polynesians, it is not surprising to find a very complex mingling of races, which it is not an easy task to disentangle. It would seem, however, that we have before us remnants of four races: a short, dark, curly-haired and perhaps original race, a few varieties of the tall Melanesian race, arrived in the islands in several migrations, an old Polynesian element as a relic of its former migrations eastward, and a present Polynesian element from the east. Every traveller will notice that the lightest population is in the south and north-east of the New Hebrides, while the darkest is in the north-west, and the ethnological difference corresponds to this division. In the Banks Islands we find, probably owing to recent immigration, more Polynesian blood than in the northern New Hebrides; in the Santa Cruz group the process of mixing seems to be just going on. The number of natives in the New Hebrides and Banks Islands amounted, according to the approximate census of the British Resident Commissioner in 1910, to 65,000. At a conservative estimate we may say that before the coming of the whites, that is, a generation ago, it was ten times that, i.e. 650,000. For to judge from present conditions, the accounts of old men and the many ruined villages, it is evident that the race must have decreased enormously. Language The languages belong to the Melanesian and Polynesian classes. They are split up into numerous dialects, so widely different that natives of different districts can hardly, if at all, understand each other. It is evident that owing to the seclusion of the villages caused by the general insecurity of former days, and the lack of any literature, the language developed differently in every village. On some islands things are so bad that one may easily walk in one day through several districts, in each of which is spoken a language quite unintelligible to the neighbours; there are even adjoining villages whose natives have to learn each other's language; this makes them fairly clever linguists. Where, by migrations, conditions have become too complicated, the most important of the dialects has been adopted as a kind of "lingua franca." Under these circumstances I at once gave up the idea of learning a native language, as I never stopped anywhere more than a few weeks; and as the missionaries have done good work in the cause of philology, my services were not needed. I was, therefore, dependent on interpreters in "biche la mar," a language which contains hardly more than fifty words, and which is spoken on the plantations, but is quite useless for discussing any abstract subject. In nearly every village there is some man who can speak biche la mar. Colonization As we have seen, colonization in the New Hebrides was begun by the whalers, who had several stations in the southern islands. They had, however, little intercourse with the natives, and their influence may be considered fairly harmless. More dangerous were the sandalwood traders, who worked chiefly in Erromanga. They were not satisfied with buying the valuable wood from the natives, but tried to get directly at the rich supplies inland. Naturally, they came into conflict with the natives, and fierce wars arose, in which the whites fought with all the weapons unscrupulous cruelty can wield. As a result, the population of Erromanga has decreased from between 5000 and 10,000 to 800. Happily, the northern islands were not so rich in sandalwood, so that contact with the whites came later, through the coprah-makers. Coprah is dried cocoa-nut, which is used in manufacturing soap, and the great wealth of cocoa-nut palms attracted coprah-makers as early as the 'Seventies of the last century. They were nearly all ruined adventurers, either escaped from the Nouméa penitentiary or otherwise the scum of the white race. Such individuals would settle near a good anchorage close to some large village, build a straw hut, and barter coprah for European goods and liquor. They made a very fair profit, but were constantly quarrelling with the natives, whom they enraged by all sorts of brutalities. The frequent murders of such traders were excusable, to say the least, and many later ones were acts of justifiable revenge. The traders were kept in contact with civilization through small sailing-vessels, which brought them new goods and bought their coprah. This easy money-making attracted more whites, so that along the coasts of the more peaceable islands numerous Europeans settled, and at present there are so many of these stations that the coprah-trade is no longer very profitable. Naturally, many of these settlers started plantations, and thus grew up the plantation centres of Mele, Port Havannah, Port Sandwich, Epi and the Segond Channel. Many plantations were created by the "Société Française des Nouvelles Hébrides," but owing to bad management these have never yet brought any returns. Thus, to the alcohol peril was added another danger to the natives,--work on the plantations. They were kidnapped, overworked, ill-fed; it was slavery in its worst shape, and the treatment of the hands is best illustrated by the mortality which, in some places, reached 44 per cent. per annum. In those days natives were plentiful and labour easy to get, and nobody worried about the future; so the ruin of the race began, and to-day their number hardly suffices for the needs of the planters. Then the slave-trade to Queensland, Fiji, even South America began, so that the population, relatively small from the first, decreased alarmingly, all the more so as they were decimated by dysentery, measles, tuberculosis and other diseases. Against all these harmful influences the missions, unsupported as they were by any authority, could only fight by protests in the civilized countries; these proved effectual at last, so that the missions deserve great credit for having preserved the native race. Yet it cannot be said that they have restored its vitality, except in Tanna. It seems as if the system of imbibing the native with so much European culture, and yet separating him from the whites and regulated labour, had been noxious to the race, for nearly everywhere the Christianized natives die out just as fast as the heathen population. About ten years after the French, the English began planting, and to-day nearly all arable land along the coast is cultivated. The English suffer much less from lack of labour, which is doubtless owing to their more humane and just treatment of the hands. In the first place, they usually come from better stock than the French, and, secondly, they are strictly controlled by the Government, whereas the French Government does not even attempt to enforce its own laws. There is now some question of importing Indian coolies; the great expense this would entail would be a just punishment for the short-sighted cruelty with which the most valuable product of the islands--their population--has been destroyed. Only by compelling each native to work for a definite period could a sufficient amount of labour be produced to-day; but such a system, while extremely beneficial to the race as a whole, stands but a poor chance of being introduced. The products of the islands are coprah, coffee, corn, cocoa and, of late years, cotton. The chief item, however, is coprah, for the islands seem specially suited for the growing of cocoa-nut palms. Rubber does not seem to thrive. In spite of the great number of officials, the Government does not make itself much felt outside the larger settlements, at least on the French side. There are not yet magistrates on each island, so that the Government hears only so much about the crimes committed on the islands as the planters care to tell, and naturally they do not tell too much. The British Government is represented by two inspectors, who frequently visit all the British plantations and look into labour conditions; the activity of the French authorities is restricted to occasional visits from the Resident. Thus the natives have no means of complaining about the whites, while they have to submit to any punishment they may get on the accusation of a colonist. This would be a very one-sided affair; happily, the missionaries represent the interests of the natives, and the power of the Government does not reach far inland. There the natives are quite independent, so that only a few hours away from the coast cannibalism still flourishes. Formerly, expeditions from the men-of-war frightened the natives; to-day they know that resistance is easy. It is, therefore, not the merit of the Government or the planters if the islands are fairly pacified, but only of the missions, which work mostly through native teachers. Still, the missions have had one bad effect: they have undermined the old native authorities and thus created general anarchy to complete the destruction begun by European civilization. In the Santa Cruz Islands there is only one plantation, worked by boys from the Solomon Islands, as the Santa Cruz natives are not yet used to regular work. But to-day they frequently recruit for the plantations on the Solomons, and there come into contact with civilization. There the labour conditions are strictly watched by the British Government; still, boys returning from there have sometimes imported diseases, generally tuberculosis, which have reduced the population by half. Commerce Communications with Sydney, the commercial centre of the Western Pacific, are established by means of a French and an English line of steamers. A few small steamers and schooners ply at irregular intervals between Nouméa and the New Hebrides. The English steamers fly the flag of Burns, Philp & Company, the great Australian firm which trades with numerous island groups of the South Seas. Their steamers touch the Lord Howe and Norfolk Islands, stop for a few days at Vila, then call in a four weeks' cruise at nearly all the plantations in the islands. They carry the mail and ply a profitable trade with the planters; they also do errands for the colonists in Sydney, procuring anything from a needle to a horse or a house. Being practically without serious competitors they can set any price they please on commodities, so that they are a power in the islands and control the trade of the group; all the more so as many planters are dependent on them for large loans. To me, Burns, Philp & Company were extremely useful, as on board their ships I could always find money, provisions and articles for barter, send my collections to Vila, and occasionally travel from one island to another. The French line is run by the Messageries Maritimes, on quite a different plan: it is merely for mail-service and does not do any trading. Its handsome steamer travels in three weeks from Sydney to Nouméa and Port Vila, visits about three plantations and leaves the islands after one week. This line offers the shortest and most comfortable connection with Sydney, taking eight days for the trip, while the English steamers take eleven. The port of entrance to the group is Port Vila, chosen for its proximity to New Caledonia and Sydney; it is a good harbour, though somewhat narrow. CHAPTER I NOUMÉA AND PORT VILA On April 26, 1910, I arrived at Nouméa by the large and very old mail-steamer of the Messageries Maritimes, plying between Marseilles and Nouméa, which I had boarded at Sydney. Nouméa impresses one very unfavourably. A time of rapid development has been followed by a period of stagnation, increased by the suppression of the penitentiary, the principal source of income to the town. The latter has never grown to the size originally planned and laid out, and its desolate squares and decayed houses are a depressing sight. Two or three steamers and a few sailing-vessels are all the craft the harbour contains; a few customs officers and discharged convicts loaf on the pier, where some natives from the Loyalty Islands sleep or shout. Parallel streets lead from the harbour to the hills that fence the town to the landward. Under roofs of corrugated sheet-iron run the sidewalks, along dark stores displaying unappetizing food, curios and cheap millinery. At each corner is a dismal sailors' bar, smelling of absinthe. Then we come to an empty, decayed square, where a crippled, noseless "Gallia" stands on a fountain; some half-drunk coachmen lounge dreaming on antediluvian cabs, and a few old convicts sprawl on benches. Along the hillside are the houses of the high officials and the better class of people. There is a club, where fat officials gather to play cards and drink absinthe and champagne; they go to the barber's, roll cigarettes, drink some more absinthe and go to bed early, after having visited a music-hall, in which monstrous dancing-girls from Sydney display their charms and moving-picture shows present blood-curdling dramas. Then there is the Governor's residence, the town hall, etc., and the only event in this quiet city of officials is the arrival of the mail-steamer, when all the "beau-monde" gathers on the pier to welcome the few passengers, whether known or unknown. In Nouméa itself there is no industry, and the great export of minerals does not touch the town. Once, Nouméa was meant to form a base of naval operations, and strongly fortified. But after a few years this idea was abandoned, after having cost large sums, and now the fortifications are left to decay and the heavy, modern guns to rust. In spite of a prohibition, one may climb up to the forts, and be rewarded by a beautiful view of the island, which does not impress one as tropical. The rounded hills are covered with shrubs, and only in the valleys are there a few trees; we are surprised by the strong colouring of the distant mountains, shining purple through the violet atmosphere. Seaward, we see the white line of the breakers, indicating the great barrier-reef which surrounds the isle with an almost impenetrable belt; a few channels only lead from the shore to the open ocean. On the 1st of May the Pacific arrived at Nouméa, and her departure for Vila, next day, ended a most tiresome stay. It was a sad, rainy day when we left. Impatiently the passengers waited till the freight was loaded,--houses, iron, horses, cases of tins, etc. Of course we were six hours late, and all the whites were angry, while the few natives did not care, but found a dry corner, rolled themselves up in their blankets and dozed. When we finally left, heavy squalls were rushing over the sea; in the darkness a fog came on, so that we had soon to come to anchor. But next morning we had passed the Loyalty Islands and were rolling in the heavy swell the south-east trade raises on the endless surface of the Pacific. Next day, through the light mist of a summer morning, the forms of islands appeared, flat, bluish-grey lines, crowned with rounded hills. Slowly finer points appeared, the ridge of mountains showed details and we could recognize the tops of the giant banyan trees, towering above the forest as a cathedral does over the houses of a city. We saw the surf, breaking in the coral cliffs of flat shores, found the entrance to the wide bay, noticed the palms with elegantly curved trunks bending over the beach, and unexpectedly entered the lagoon, that shone in the bright sun like a glittering sapphire. We had passed the flat cliffs, covered only with iron-wood trees, and now the water was bordered by high coral plateaux, from which a luxuriant forest fell down in heavy cascades, in a thickness almost alarming, like the eruption of a volcano, when one cloud pushes the other before it and new ones are ever behind. It seemed as if each tree were trying to strangle the others in a fight for life, while the weakest, deprived of their ground, clung frantically to the shore and would soon be pushed far out over the smooth, shining sea. There the last dense crowns formed the beautiful fringe of the green carpet stretched soft and thick over the earth. Only here and there the shore was free, showing the coral strand as a line of white that separated the blue of the sea from the green of the forest and intensified every colour in the landscape. It was a vision of the most magnificent luxuriance, so different from the view which the barren shores of eastern New Caledonia offer. The bay became narrower and we approached the port proper. Small islands appeared, between which we had glimpses of cool bays across glassy, deep-green water, and before us lay a broken line of light-coloured houses along the beach, while on the plateau behind we could see the big court-house and some villas. A little distance off-shore we dropped anchor, and were soon surrounded by boats, from which the inhabitants came on board. A kind planter brought me and my belongings ashore, and I took up my quarters in the only hotel in Port Vila, the so-called "blood-house," thus named because of its history. Vila is merely the administration centre, and consists of nothing but a few stores and the houses of the Condominium officials. There is little life, and only the arrival of the ships brings some excitement, so that the stranger feels bored and lonely, especially as the "blood-house " does not offer many comforts and the society there is not of the choicest. I immediately went to present my letters of introduction to the French Resident. The offices of the British Residence were still on the small island of Iariki, which I could not reach without a boat. The French Residence is a long, flat, unattractive building; the lawn around the house was fairly well kept, but perfectly bare, in accordance with the French idea of salubrity, except for a few straggling bushes near by. Fowls and horses promenaded about. But the view is one of the most charming to be found in the islands. Just opposite is the entrance to the bay, and the two points frame the sea most effectively, numerous smaller capes deepening the perspective. Along their silhouettes the eye glides into far spaces, to dive beyond the horizon into infinity. Iariki is just in front, and we can see the well-kept park around the British Residence, with its mixture of art and wilderness; near by is the smooth sea shining in all colours. While the shores are of a yellowish green, the sea is of every shade of blue, and the green of the depths is saturated with that brilliant turquoise tint which is enough to put one into a light and happy humour. This being my first sight of a tropical landscape, my delight was great, and made up for any disappointment human inefficiency had occasioned. The French Resident, Mr. C, received me most kindly, and did me the honour of inviting me to be his guest. I had planned to stay in Vila a few weeks, so as to get acquainted with the country and hire boys; but the Resident seemed to think that I only intended a short visit to the islands, and he proposed to take me with him on a cruise through the archipelago and to deposit me at the Segond Channel, an invitation I could not well refuse. My objection of having no servants was overruled by the Resident's assurance that I could easily find some in Santo. I therefore made my preparations and got my luggage ready. In the afternoon, Mr. C. lent me his boat to go and pay my respects to Mr. Morton King, the British Resident. The difference between the two residences was striking, but it would be out of place to dwell on it here. It may be caused by the fact that the French Resident is, as a rule, recalled every six months, while the British Resident had been at Vila for more than three years. Mr. King received me most cordially and also offered his hospitality, which, however, I was unable to accept. Later on Mr. King assisted and sheltered me in the most generous manner, so that I shall always remember his help and friendship with sincere gratitude. I also had the honour of making the acquaintance of the British judge and of most of the Condominium officials. It was a dull morning when we left Vila on board the French Government yacht. In days gone by she had been an elegant racing-boat, but was now somewhat decayed and none too clean; however, she had been equipped with a motor, so that we were independent of the wind. Besides the Resident and myself there were on board the French judge, the police commissioner, and a crew of boys from the Loyalty Islands near New Caledonia. These are excellent sailors and are employed in Vila as French policemen. They are very strong and lively and great fighters, and would be perfect material for a police force were they not such confirmed drunkards. Because of this defect they all had to be dismissed soon afterwards and sent back to their own country, as in Vila, instead of arresting drunken natives, they had generally been drunk themselves and were often fighting in the streets. But on board ship, where they had no opportunity to get drunk, they were very willing and always cheerful and ready for sport of any kind. We did not travel far that first day, but stopped after a few hours' sail in Port Havannah, north of the Bay of Mele. This port would be one of the best harbours in the group, as it is almost entirely landlocked; only, the water is so deep that small craft cannot anchor. Yet it would be preferable to Port Vila, as the climate is much better, Vila being one of the hottest, stuffiest and rainiest spots in the group, and its harbour is becoming too small for the increased traffic of the last few years. Port Vila only became the capital of the islands when the English influence grew stronger, while all the land round Port Havannah belonged to a French company. We spent the afternoon on shore shooting pigeons. Besides a few ducks, flying-foxes and wild pigs, pigeons are the only game in the islands; but this pigeon-shooting is a peculiar sport and requires a special enthusiasm to afford pleasure for any length of time. The birds are extremely shy and generally sit on the tops of the highest trees where a European can hardly discover them. The natives, however, are very clever in detecting them, but when they try to show you the pigeon it generally flies off and is lost; and if you shoot it, it is hard to find, even for a native. The natives themselves are capable of approaching the birds noiselessly and unseen, because of their colour, so as to shoot them from a short distance. My pigeon-shooting usually consisted in waiting for several hours in the forest, with very unsatisfactory results, so that I soon gave it up. We were all unsuccessful on this particular day, but it ended most gaily with a dance at the house of a French planter. We slept on board, rocked softly by the ship, against which the waves plashed in cosy whispering. The sky was bright with stars, but below decks it was dark and stuffy. Now and then a big fish jumped out of the black sea, otherwise it was quiet, dull and gloomy as a dismal dream. Next day we rose early and went shooting again. Probably because we had been given the best wishes of an old French lady the result was as unsatisfactory as the evening before. We then resumed our journey in splendid weather, with a stiff breeze, and flying through blue spaces on the bright waves, we rapidly passed several small islands, sighted "Monument Rock," a lonely cliff that rises abruptly out of the sea to a height of 130 m., and arrived late in the afternoon at Maei, our destination. CHAPTER II MAEI, TONGOA, EPI AND MALEKULA Maei is a small island whose natives have nearly all disappeared, as is the case on most of its neighbours. There is one small plantation, with the agent of which the Resident had business. After we had passed the narrow inlet through the reef, we landed, to find the agent in a peculiar, half-mad condition. He pretended to suffer from fever, but it was evident that alcohol had a good deal to do with it, too. The man made strange faces, could hardly talk and was quite unable to write; he said the fever had deprived him of the power of using his fingers. He was asked to dinner on board, and as he could not speak French nor the Resident English, negotiations were carried on in biche la mar, a language in which it is impossible to talk about anything but the simplest matters of everyday life. Things got still worse when the agent became more and more intoxicated, in spite of the small quantities of liquor we allowed him. I had to act as interpreter, a most ungrateful task, as the planter soon began to insult the Resident, and I had to translate his remarks and the Resident's answers. At last, funny as the whole affair was in a way, it became very tiresome; happily, matters came to a sudden close by the planter's falling under the table. He was then taken ashore by his native wife and the police-boys, who enjoyed this duty immensely. We smoked a quiet pipe, looked after the fish-hooks--empty, of course--and slept on deck in the cool night air. Next morning the planter came aboard somewhat sobered and more tractable. He brought with him his wife, and their child whom he wished to adopt. As the native women do not as a rule stay with their masters very long, the children are registered under the formula: "Child of N. N., mother unknown," an expression which sounds somewhat queer to those who do not know the reason for it. After having finished this business, we weighed anchor and set sail for Tongoa. This is one of the few islands whose native population does not decrease. The Presbyterian missionary there gives the entire credit for this pleasant fact to his exertions, as the natives are all converted. But as in other completely Christianized districts the natives die out rapidly, it is doubtful whether Christianity alone has had this beneficial effect, and we must seek other causes, though they are hard to find. After a clear night we sailed along the coast of Epi. The bright weather had changed to a dull, rainy day, and the aspect of the landscape was entirely altered. The smiling islands had become sober, lonely, even threatening. When the charm of a country consists so entirely in its colouring, any modification of the atmosphere and light cause such a change in its character that the same view may look either like Paradise or entirely dull and inhospitable. What had been thus far a pleasure trip, a holiday excursion, turned suddenly into a business journey, and this change in our mood was increased by a slight illness which had attacked the Resident, making the jovial gentleman morose and irritable. The stay in Epi was rather uninteresting. Owing to the dense French colonization there the natives have nearly all disappeared or become quite degenerate. We spent our time in visits to the different French planters and then sailed for Malekula, anchoring in Port Sandwich. Port Sandwich is a long, narrow bay in the south of Malekula, and after Port Vila the most frequented harbour of the group, as it is very centrally located and absolutely safe. Many a vessel has found protection there from storm or cyclone. The entrance to the bay is narrow, and at the anchorage we were so completely landlocked that we might have imagined ourselves on an inland lake, so quiet is the water, surrounded on all sides by the dark green forest which falls in heavy waves down from the hills to the silent, gloomy sea. Immediately after our arrival my companions went pigeon-shooting as usual; but I soon preferred to join the son of the French planter at Port Sandwich in a visit to the neighbouring native village. This was my first sight of the real, genuine aborigines. No one with any taste for nature will fail to feel the solemnity of the moment when he stands face to face for the first time with primitive man. As the traveller enters the depths of the virgin forest for the first time with sacred awe, he feels that he stands before a still higher revelation of nature when the first dark, naked man suddenly appears. Silently he has crept through the thicket, has parted the branches, and confronts us unexpectedly on a narrow path, shy and silent, while we are struck with surprise. His figure is but slightly relieved against the green of the bushes; he seems part of the silent, luxuriant world around him, a being strange to us, a part of those realms which we are used to imagine as void
{'title': 'Two Years with the Natives in the Western Pacific by Felix Speiser', 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}