CHAPTER IX.

_LETTERS FROM ANIWA._

Editorial Preface.—_Letter for 1867._—Not Tanna but Aniwa.—“Missi Paton _versus_ Teapots.”—The Humour of Taia.—Evening Village-Prayers.—“Make him _Bokis_ Sing.”—My Sewing Class.—“That no Gammon.”—“Talk Biritania.”—The Marriage of Kahi.... _Letter for 1869._—First Communicants on Aniwa.—Mungaw and the Mission Boys.—The Blessing of the _Dayspring_.... _Letter for 1874._—Home to Aniwa.—“Taking Possession.”—“Another Soul Committed to our Care.”—Hutshi and her Lover.—Six Missionaries on Aniwa.... _Letter for 1875._—Missi Paton and “Joseph” and the Tannese.—A Tropical Hurricane.—The Disgrace and Sale of Hutshi.—Taia Baited by Nalihi.—Earthquakes and Tidal Waves.—Farewells.... _Letter for 1878._—A Madman at Large.—The Passing of Yawaci.—The Madness and Death of Mungaw.—Our Native Elders.—Music on the Waters.—A Wicked Vow.... _Letter for 1879._—New Year’s Day on Aniwa.—A Miserable Slaver.—Litsi Married Again.—Mission Synod on Erromanga.—Tragic and Holy Memories.—Day-Light on Tanna.—Pigs in Galore.—Arrowroot for Jehovah.

[The Editor takes upon himself the responsibility of presenting here a picture of life among the New Hebrideans, as portrayed by the graphic and gifted pen of Mrs. John G. Paton.

His only regret is that the exigencies of space compel him to give mere _fragments_ of these Letters, instead of the full-flowing descriptions, which have led him to regard them as amongst the most charming pieces of Missionary literature with which he has become acquainted.

He apologizes also to that dear lady herself for the liberty he is thus taking with her “Family Epistles,”—written for the delight of her inner circle of friends, and for their eyes alone. He is well aware that if she were at his side, instead of being in the New Hebrides, while he is sending these pages to press, nothing would probably induce her to give her consent to this appearance in print. But he trusts that her wrath will be assuaged, when she returns to the Colonies and learns how the Christian Public approve in this respect of what her friend has done.

The Editor makes no apology to the reader for this break in the flow of the story, or even for re-touching one or two scenes that are past, for he already instinctively knows that even these fragments will be appreciated, as a great enrichment to the Autobiography which he has been privileged to introduce to them.]

(1867.)

TO REV. DR. MACDONALD, SOUTH MELBOURNE.

“... How much I enjoyed your kind letter which came by the _Dayspring_ last month! I was delighted indeed to hear that your Parish now extends to the New Hebrides,—rather a scattered one certainly, nevertheless you are bound to look after your flock, and we shall soon be expecting _a pastoral visit_....

“You were, I dare say, surprised when you heard that we had been sent to Aniwa instead of Tanna. It was a blow which Mr. Paton has hardly got over yet; but all the brethren were decidedly opposed to us going there alone, and we feel now that we have been Divinely led hither. Mr. Inglis, in his last kind letter, said to Mr. Paton that he believed he was doing more real work for Tanna, by bringing the Aniwans to a knowledge of the truth and thus fitting them for by-and-bye spreading the Gospel among the Tannese, than if he were now labouring alone among that dense mass of people. We are encouraged, therefore, to hope that there may be many ambassadors for Christ from this little Island, for the Aniwans are a superior people, and the work has made steady and rapid progress of late. I don’t mean that half the people are converted,—very far from that! There is a great deal to be done, before the soil is prepared even to receive the seed,—they cling so to their old prejudices and superstitions. I believe, to many of them, it is like taking a great leap into the dark to risk the anger of their gods by coming to the Worship. For what proof have they at first that we are leading them into the right way? True, they see we wish to be kind; but the idea of any one coming among them simply for their good is a doctrine they cannot understand.

“We are very thankful to have so many regularly at Church; and Mr. Paton possessed a great advantage in being able to address them from the first in Tannese, which some of them speak freely,—hence the double hope of training them as helpers for Tanna. You would be surprised to see with what propriety the Services are conducted. The Native Teachers, two devoted men from Aneityum who have been here for years, try to give short speeches. Then Mr. Paton usually invites one or other of the more enlightened of the Aniwans to speak, which he does by invariably pitching into his brethren in the most energetic terms, comparing them to pigs, dogs, serpents, etc., the speaker not generally including himself, and asking how long they mean to continue their ‘black-hearted conduct’?

“They are never at a loss for a text, and for a long time after we came it sounded to me something like ‘Missi Paton and Teapots.’ I supposed it to be, ‘Missi Paton _versus_ Teapots,’ but by-and-bye I discovered that it was not Teapots, but Teapolo (= Devil), against which they stormed. Lately they have been choosing more sacred subjects, generally a repetition of what they have heard from Mr. Paton before, or been helping him to translate during the week. Last Sabbath, we were much struck with the gentle, persuasive tones of the old Chief who was addressing them. Mr. Paton noted down two words he did not remember having heard before, and asked for the translation after worship. The man took him by the hand and said in Tannese, ‘Missi, I was only telling them what you have been teaching us all this time about Jesus pouring out His blood to wash away all our sins!’

“Taia, and Namakei the Chief, two of our firmest friends, give very telling speeches sometimes. The former is a tall and powerful fellow, quite a notoriety on account of his loquacious powers. He has a great deal of ready wit too; and, though he does little else but talk, it is wonderful what influence he exerts. Some time ago, he prevented a violent quarrel ending in probable bloodshed. The party who thought themselves insulted ran home, seized their arms, and were rushing past Taia’s house, where he was lying outside, basking in the sun and enjoying his pipe. He saw something was wrong, for they don’t continue the habit of carrying their arms constantly now, and he called out to them (of course in their own language), ‘Stop! stop! let me see what you are carrying. Is it the book that Missi has been busy making?’ His sly hit set them all a-laughing, and they turned into his house; there he had a long and serious talk with them, and got them to give up the idea of fighting, at least for that day. The next being Sabbath, he came to Mr. Paton before the Service to ask him to let him speak; and, having both the offending parties present, he _did_ give it them, finishing up by reminding them how difficult it had been to get a Missionary, and how he, Taia, had gone to Aneityum to plead for more Native Teachers after they had murdered Nemeyan and tried to kill Navalak, and how he had always been careful to give them food to do the work of Jehovah! In that part of the speech referring to his own conduct, there were a few embellishments which in strict regard to truth might have been omitted; but his advice seemed to do good, for we heard no more of that quarrel.

“Taia, however, does not always do as he professes, and Mr. Paton sometimes feels it incumbent on him to call Taia to account; but Taia’s equanimity is never in the least ruffled. He sits listening with his chin resting upon his knees, looking up now and again with a bland smile, saying, ‘Ah, very good talk that, Missi! Very good talk that!’...

“Namakei never fails, when well, to take Mr. Paton’s Bible and lay it on the desk every Sabbath and Wednesday before the Service, and to get the people in the village assembled for worship, which we have every evening under a large banyan tree in the Imrai (= the public meeting-ground), the great place of general rendezvous, which is close behind our house.

“I particularly enjoy this Evening Service, when all Nature is at rest and looks so exquisitely beautiful, everything reflecting the gorgeous sunsets and nothing heard but the soft rustle of the leaves and what Longfellow calls ‘the symphony of Ocean’. I think the Natives, too, are inspired with it, for none of us seem inclined to move off after worship, and often, but especially on Sabbath evenings, we sit still and sing over all our hymns. They never tire of this, being all of them intensely fond of music...

“I was heartily amused, the first time I was called upon to perform on Aniwa! We had just unpacked the harmonium, one day, about a fortnight after our arrival. The news must have spread like wildfire; for, towards evening, about forty or fifty people came marching towards the Church (the house where we stayed till our new home was built), the foremost shouting in broken English, ‘Missi, make him bokis (= box) sing! Plenty man come hear you make him bokis sing!’

“I must not omit to tell you about my peculiar charge, and a very pleasant one it is, I mean my own Sewing Class. Nearly fifty women and girls attend pretty regularly every morning, except Wednesday and Saturday, and we spend two hours (often more) together sewing and singing. They are very tractable and willing to learn, having taken a great fancy for sewing. I never dreamt it would be really such delightful work teaching them, but my heart was drawn to them from the first, and I will always feel grateful to them for the kindly way they behaved to me when I landed amongst them, timid and rather frightened at feeling myself the only white woman on these lonely shores....

“Mr. Paton took the matter much more coolly, seeming to take for granted that they were all his ‘dear friends,’ though most of the men, really fine fellows we have since found them, thought it advisable to receive us with a good deal of impudence, trying how far we could be imposed upon! Plenty of them talk a little English, and really it was almost laughable to hear them telling the most monstrous lies with such a long innocent face, that one would suppose they believed them themselves, and then gravely adding, ‘That no gammon!’...

“I feel the sewing, however, to be only a stepping-stone to something far more important. It brings me into contact with them so as to learn their language. I so long to be able to talk freely to them; but it is slow work with me! How the Apostles must have appreciated the gift of Tongues on the day of Pentecost! I wonder if it was accorded to their wives as well? It is so provoking, when you think you have mastered enough to venture on a little conversation with them, to see them looking at each other wonderingly. Some time ago, in talking to a girl, I plunged a little deeper than usual, thinking to astonish her with my wisdom, but she looked up innocently and told me she ‘did not savvy talk Biritania!’ I must have made awful blunders at first. But some of the women can talk Tannese as well as the men; and I got Mr. Paton’s help in any great difficulty, though he did not at all times enjoy the interruption, especially if the point in question turned out to be only about a needle and a thread, while he had been called away when setting up the type for our first Aniwan book!...

“Before closing this long epistle, I want to tell you about our first Christian marriage here, especially as the Bride was decked out from your Emerald Hill box, last sent,—at least partly so. It was a deeply interesting occasion. Kahi, the bride, was one of my scholars, a pretty young widow of about seventeen; and Ropu, her lover, was such a nice fellow, too, a great favourite of Mr. Paton’s. They seemed really attached; but Kahi’s father-in-law demurred about giving her away, as he considered her still his property, having given a high price (present?) for her when he bought her for his son. One morning, however, Ropu appeared with such a number of fat pigs, that they quite took the old man’s heart by storm, and he declared that he might have her that day, if the Missi thought it was right. The Missi did not object, but advised them to get married in Church; and I determined to give Kahi a nice present, in order to tempt her young companions to follow her example; not a very high motive, to be sure, but if the prospect of a good present will induce them to alter their habits in regard to marriage, I have not the slightest objection that it should be so. It’s about the highest motive some of them can yet appreciate, and there is no vital principle, after all, at stake in the mere form. We made the event as public as the time would permit, and there was quite a little gathering to witness the ceremony. Poor Kahi was brought to me in tears; but when we put on her nice skirt and jacket, and she caught sight of the pretty hat which happened to be trimmed with orange blossom, she seemed to think she had indulged long enough in sentiment and dried her tears quite briskly, looking out from under her long eyelashes from side to side with great admiration, and when at last I put a glaring red handkerchief into her hand she fairly laughed aloud! There was a little trouble with them in Church, as they would not come near enough to join hands till they were pushed; and then the poor girl got her marriage vows repeated to her on the deafest side of her head, for, being too bashful or something of the sort to give the response, it seemed to be the public opinion that Mr. Paton was letting her off too easily, and the men taking up the question thundered it in such a manner as to elicit a pretty quick reply!

“... P.S. “6th _December_.

“Please send the _Dayspring_ quickly down this season; for I have found this morning to my horror, that the whole stock of flour has gone useless, and not a bit of bread shall we get till the Vessel returns! I suppose we are indebted to the climate and the weevil together for this. We have plenty of other food,—so no danger of starving.”

(1869.)

TO A LADY.

... “To spend such a day as we did a few Sabbaths ago when our little Church of God on Aniwa was formally constituted, we felt to be worth more than all the sacrifices connected with our isolated life. We had a very good attendance, 180 being present, and an unusual solemnity and interest pervaded the Church throughout the whole Services. The Communicants, twelve in number, were arranged in rows from the platform to my seat, so that they occupied the space in the centre; and, as they stood up to answer the form of questions Mr. Paton put to them before receiving Baptism, you could scarcely have conceived a more interesting group. Vasi, our eldest member, must we think be near to ninety; but, aged and infirm as he is, he came every day to School with his spectacles on, and is one of Mr. Paton’s best writers as well as readers. Our old chief, Namakei, was there, with his daughter Litsi. She is his only child living, and is almost as great a comfort to me as to her father. She was the first girl who came to live with us, and, being the eldest on our Premises, she sets a good example to the others. Her devotion to Mr. Paton amounts almost to idolatry. She seems as if she never could be grateful enough to him for being the means of her conversion. But the one I felt most interest in was Namakei’s sister, a very gentle and delicate-looking woman. I knew what it had cost her to profess her faith in Jesus, and how her husband and son were even then jeering and laughing at her. If I had time, I could tell you something interesting about each of them, for of course it was our knowing all their little histories that made it so intensely gratifying a sight to us. I can remember when one began to wear clothing, when another cut off his long hair, and when one whom we had thought a very hardened character came one day with the last of his idols, saying,—‘Now, Missi, these are the very last. I have no more.’

“It was a beautiful sight to see these all standing up neatly clothed, in the midst of their benighted brethren, to declare themselves on the Lord’s side; and more than one could witness without deep emotion. Never did I feel happier in any society on Earth, than when partaking of our Saviour’s body and blood with these dark Sisters and Brothers, now united with me in Jesus. It was a day long to be remembered. I trust it will be so even in Eternity, with thanksgiving. Our dear friend and sister Missionary, Mrs. McNair, was with us, paying a long-promised visit; and I felt so glad she happened to be here at the time, for she says she never witnessed a more beautiful and affecting spectacle. We have every reason to hope that the true work of grace is begun in their hearts. Mr. Paton had much satisfaction in them while attending his Candidates’ Class; and their own earnest inquiries were what delighted him most. How often have we had cause to set up our Ebenezer since coming to this far-off land; and this is but a small beginning, yet we have most emphatically reason to thank the Lord and take courage....

“Mungaw was so disgusted at having to wear a kilt, that I did not dare to mention about cutting his long hair; and Mr. Paton does not wish the Natives to be forced to these things, for he always says that, when their hearts are changed, they will be sure to give up these things of their own accord. I know that this is very true; but as I don’t see that there would be any harm in having the short hair first, I coaxed Mungaw to cut his, and he looks very much more civilized.

“We have a gathering of boys now on the Premises; for Mungaw had not been installed into his office two days, before a few others came and asked quite humbly that they might be allowed to do something for the Missi. We were truly amazed as well as gratified at this unexpected proposal; for the boys here, as a rule, are the idlest and most impudent set I ever saw. They seem to be the ‘masters’ too, for no one thinks of contradicting a boy. Of course, Mr. Paton told them that he was very glad to have them come, as he wanted to teach them a great deal they ought to know. They are really doing tolerably well, and I feel so thankful to have a man-cook, as there are so many things connected therewith that men or boys require to do and that they will not do to help a _woman_; for instance, chopping wood and black-leading the stove....

“The _Dayspring_ is a great blessing to us all. There is little fear of any Missionary now on the most savage Islands being ill-treated, if they see that he is well looked after. Of course, I mean ‘humanly speaking,’ the fear is _nil_; and if we be kept in safety, and our work in the end begins to prosper, that dear little Vessel and her supporters have more to do with it all than might by some be imagined. Two of our Natives, one of them the wildest character on Aniwa, were engaged by Captain Fraser to go as boat’s crew, the trip before last; and they came back in ecstasies, declaring there was never such a Captain as the one on board the _Dayspring_. He was so kind and good to them, for when they came to any Island without a Missionary, he would not let them go on shore for fear of being killed, and that would have damaged our work on Aniwa. Then they counted on their finger ends, with great glee, the things they had received in payment; and as these are good and useful articles, it engenders a love for such things instead of the paint and stuffs they get from the Traders, while their huge ambition for sailing and sight-seeing is gratified.”

(1874.)

TO THE FAMILY CIRCLE

“MY DEAREST MOTHER, SISTERS, AND BROTHERS,— ... I must, however, arrive at Aniwa more by degrees, as this is to be the journalistic Family Epistle, and you have heard nothing of us since we left Sydney on the 4th April, with dear Dr. Steele on board, who seemed like a link between us and Civilization. I felt ‘strong to go,’ as our Natives would express it, for I realized as I never before had done the ‘Lo, I am with you,’ and some of God’s dear ones with whom we had had such precious Christian fellowship were with us till the last....

“We had finished up at Fotuna soon after breakfast; and how intensely delighted we were to hear the Captain’s cheery voice shouting out that we would be able to have a drink of milk at Aniwa to-morrow morning, as the wind was fair. We had all packed up in the afternoon, and the first sight which greeted me, on looking out at my port-hole next morning, was the trees and rocks of dear old Aniwa! The first boat was sent ashore with eight or nine Fotunese and their cumbrous baggage, who had insisted on coming to visit our Island, rather to the disgust of the Captain. Meantime we were having our breakfast, and Mr. Arthur, the mate, brought back word that our Natives were in a-state of great delight and excitement,—dear Yawaci making the younger girls fly round their work,—also that our six cows had increased to ten, and that our goats no man could number! He had also heard that a number of our Natives had died, and some had been taken away by Traders.

“When we neared the shore, we could see that the great majority of the people had turned out, and even the very cattle and goats been brought to meet us! There were my girls, standing in a group in bright pink dresses, sewed and shaped by themselves, and turkey-red turbans, and in short, by one and another of the Natives all the colours of the rainbow were well represented. Not one person, I am thankful to say, was _without clothing_. True, some of their garments were ragged and scanty enough,—still they had them, and it was almost more than we expected from some of them, after being away from them so long. They do _so_ love to run naked!

“What a shaking of hands, and ‘Alofa’-ing there was! Two or three little groups were sitting apart sobbing for their dead; indeed, they firmly believed that if we had been on the Island to attend to them they would not have died. When we reached the house, everything looked beautiful and the ground so well kept, new coral on the walks, a fine new mat on the dining-room floor and another on the lobby, and last, but not least in the estimation of weary sea-voyagers,—a great jug of new goat’s milk! When Dr. Steele and Mr. Robertson made playful speeches about our Home-coming before drinking it, I could most truly say, even after all the enjoyment and kindness of the Colonies and delightful Christian fellowship with kindred spirits there,—‘Home, sweet Home, no place like Home.’...

“Amidst all my hurry, however, I had five minutes alone by my little Lena’s grave. The beautiful white coral was blackened, but the grass and shrubs had grown, and the lemon branches with their bright fruit were bending over and shading it beautifully. How naturally one looks _up_ to the blue sky above, and wonders where the spirit is, or if she can see the mourning hearts below. She would have been running on her own little feet now, had she been on Earth; but though my heart aches for her still, I would not have it otherwise, for she was not sent in vain, and oh, what a little _teacher_ she has been! When John took Dr. Steele to see the grave, he said,—‘You have thus taken possession’; and I felt we had taken possession of more through her than that little spot of ground on Aniwa....

“Our visitors and Vessel left us in the afternoon, and on my return from seeing them off (John was too exhausted to go), I met a very nice man, one of the Church members, who stopped me and said,—‘Missi, I’ve given my boy up to you and Missi the man, and you’re to feed and clothe and teach him, as you do the other children.’ I could hardly believe my ears, and you would need to know how boys are prized here to appreciate as we did the sacrifice made,—at least as John did, for I must confess that the thought of their bodily sustenance comes between me and the fervent thanksgiving of my earnest little man for ‘another soul being added to our care!’ We’ve got ten of these souls, with bodies attached, at the present time, besides several outsiders who come during the day, and it taxes all my ingenuity to keep them in work and ‘Kai-Kai,’—their capacity for the latter being of no mean order. Their clothes are no concern beyond the making of them, and that they soon learn to do for themselves; for we have always been abundantly supplied from kind Mission friends.... Although I _do_ sometimes think how nice it would be to be in Civilization with a small house of our own and with the care of only one or two servants at most, yet we are more than re-paid for all our love to these dear Darkies. They are just like our very children, and such we always call them, and they are so confiding and loving with us and tell us everything, especially the elder girls, who have lived with us now for more than five years.

“By the way, we have just had an _affaire de cœur_ amongst them, and as Hutshi is the young lady, you will be interested to hear. You know she was given away, when an infant, by her parents, to Nelwang, another infant about the same age, but who is now one of the best and most intelligent boys on the Island,—the only drawback being that his limbs are rather diseased, and he is so fearfully timid that he won’t let John apply anything to cure them. Well, when we were in Sydney, a middle-aged man, a returned labourer, whose betrothed wife is yet a baby, came trying to curry favour with Hutshi’s guardians (her parents are dead long ago) by bringing them large presents, and finally got them talked over to give him Hutshi when she returned with us,—so it was settled, only awaiting her and our consent. Now, her guardian has always been most honourable with us. He gave up Hutshi to us, when she was of the greatest use in his village (but I took care to let her go and help them pretty often), and when we asked if she might go with us to the Colonies, he and his wife said,—‘She is more your child than ours, Missi; do as you like.’ So, when they explained matters to John one evening in the study, and said that both Hutshi and Nelwang were agreeable to the change, he felt he could not interfere much, but warned them not to be too rash and to ask God about it.

“Hutshi, the mischief, flirted with her new admirer when she could get a chance, and I felt it would be a great relief to have her married; but we could see, from Nelwang’s looks (he is one of our boys), that there was a pain at his heart. I set him a piece of work in the dining-room one day, and, sitting down to help him, got all his confidence. The poor boy’s heart was breaking, and he wound up by saying,—‘I can’t tell _them_ my heart, Missi, for they would but laugh, and I am only one; but if my father had been alive, they would not have _dared_ to give Hutshi away before my eyes.’ Seeing his lady-love, however, who at that moment came in at the open window and evidently comprehended matters, he tossed his head proudly and said,—‘It’s very good that she takes him!’

“John and I espoused Nelwang’s cause from that moment, and he soon found an opportunity for saying a word on his behalf. I also got Hutshi alone, and told her what Nelwang had said. She replied that she did not know what to do, as they were all urging her to take Sarra (the new lover); but she said,—‘I would cry more to give up Nelwang than that old fellow!’

“She came to me the other day, and said she had finally made up her mind to keep by Nelwang. I answered,—‘But I thought, Hutshi, you seemed for the while to prefer the other.’ ‘Yes, Missi,’ she replied, ‘when everybody was praising him and telling me to take him, I thought it would be nice; but Nelwang and I have had a talk. We told each other what our dead parents said about our being married when we were big, and then we both cried, and we are going to be true to each other!’ So, you see, there is sentiment in blacks as well as whites!...

“Here I am at the end of my fourth sheet, and have not even begun to tell you of the nice Ladies’ Meeting we had at Aniwa, or the lively time we have had with visitors ever since the Vessel returned with the Missionaries on board for the annual Synod....

“That was a refreshing visit on the return of the Vessel from the Synod; and we had a cheery houseful, for in addition to our four husbands, whom as canny Scots say, ‘we were _not sorry_’ to see after a three weeks’ absence, Mr. and Mrs. Inglis and Dr. Steele (the latter to remain with us) came and stayed from the Saturday till the Monday,—the vessel going out to sea with the rest of the Missionaries, who declared it would kill me outright to have any more! Those who came tried to make me promise just to give them a pillow and a blanket on the floor, but we got them snugly stowed away in beds and on sofas, and we so enjoyed their society. It is especially delightful to hear their voices mingling in the Psalm at Family Worship. It makes one think of the great company of the redeemed, singing the ‘New Song.’

“The Sabbath was such a blessed day too, and it was quite an event in the Church history of Aniwa to see six Missionaries on the platform, and five ladies in the Missionary’s pew. Mr. Inglis preached at the first service, Mr. Annand at the second (John of course translating), good Gospel truth; and Dr. Steele gave us a _white_ sermon in the evening in the drawing-room, upon the ‘Prayer of Jabez.’ The language was very beautiful, and the Doctor suited himself to his audience,—leaving out his appeal to _unconverted Sinners_!...

“Every one in the house is asleep, and my eyes will hardly keep open; so I must say Good-night to you all, with heart’s love from your ever-loving daughter and sister,

“MAGGIE WHITECROSS PATON.”

(1875.)

TO THE FAMILY CIRCLE.

“MY DEAREST SISTERS AND BROTHERS,—

“If I could only put one of the Earthquakes we’ve had into this journal it would produce a sensation,—descriptions seem so very tame after one has experienced the awful feelings they produce! But I must begin and go forward as best I can, there being no possibility of gratifying you in that direction.

“You know, it was not till very near the time of the Vessel’s sailing that we decided last year to remain; and I sent my last ‘Journal’ on board with an aching heart. We had been so nearly going to see our precious boys, and till I saw the _Dayspring_ slowly disappear in the distance I did not know how intensely my heart had been set upon seeing them!...

“To crown all, John got very ill, and sunk so low we feared he might not live to see the return of the _Dayspring_. But all the time I had an inward conviction that God had not kept him on Aniwa just to die, after giving us such encouragement to remain, and we had waited so confidingly upon Him just to show us the way. And He did not keep us long in suspense, for one event transpired after another to show how wisely we had been guided.

“The first of these happened about a month after the vessel left, and as John was slowly recovering from his illness. We heard, one lovely day, as I was setting the copies for afternoon School (I managed to keep it going all the time), a cry of ‘Sail O!’ which set us all into a fine pitch of excitement. School was the last thing to be thought of, and the Natives scampered off towards the other end of the Island, where the vessel lay. John was unable to walk so far; but you may be sure we were quite on the _qui vive_ for news, and I waylaid the first returning Native, who shouted to me in Aniwan, ‘Missi, what _do_ you think has happened? A whole shipload of Tannese, men, women, and children, have been driven off their own Island by war, and have come over to live on this little Island, because the Worship is strong, and they know they are safe. They are many in number for the people of Aniwa; and where are we to get food for them, Missi? for they had to escape at night with what little baggage they could bring in the vessel.’

“Another Native soon arrived with letters from Mr. and Mrs. Neilson, confirming the report, and we were rather dumbfounded at this turn of events; but, like most of the other Missionaries, when they heard of it, we were also deeply impressed with God’s mysterious ways. Tanna was the Island upon which John’s whole heart was set; and it was one of the bitterest disappointments of his life when the Mission Synod would not allow him to return there, instead of coming to Aniwa nine years ago; but we both felt we were following God here, and now He had brought the Tannese to Aniwa; for those who had come were from around Port Resolution, and some of them were John’s old friends!

“Some of the Islanders themselves were as much struck with the event as we were. And at last Mission Synod, Mr. Neilson amused all the Missionaries by giving the outline of a speech made upon the occasion by one of the Aneityumese Teachers on Tanna, apt as all Natives are in drawing illustrations from daily life to point their addresses on Sabbath. He took the story of Joseph for his subject, and made out ‘Missi Paton’ to be Joseph driven from Tanna by his wicked brethren the Tanna men, but that God had gone with him to Egypt, _alias_ Aniwa, and prospered him and the land for his sake, and prepared it for them to go and live upon, and thus save much people alive!...

“John immediately set to work revising his Tannese, which he had well-nigh forgotten, so that when the Tanna gentry declined to come to Church he was soon able to go to them and first read his addresses and then preach to them in Tannese. How it did remind us of the early Aniwan days, when our worthy parishioners used to enjoy a pipe or a nap, as they lay on their backs listening to the sermon!...

“The Hurricane began in earnest about noon on January 14th, after a heavy thunderstorm which had blackened the air all the morning. As we sat at dinner the wind suddenly became furious; we had to jump up and make preparations, as the house was shaking and creaking, the thatch standing on end, and the rain pouring in. Immediately trees, fences, etc., began to occupy a horizontal position; so the children and I took refuge in the Study, which seemed to stand firmer than the rest of the house, and from the windows watched the progress of the storm,—a magnificent sight, tall trees bending and falling before the awful force of the wind. John came in greatly dejected, saying that if it continued much longer the Church would go, as it was already bending, notwithstanding its being so strongly propped. There was a lull just then in the storm, which cheered me; but his more experienced eye led him to pronounce it the stillness that precedes a great storm, it was still so black and ominous. And sure enough, just before dark, a terrific blast sent us flying down to the Cellar, our usual place of refuge.

“John and a couple of the girls made a final attempt to get into the house for one or two loaves, and whatever else they could grab,—we were now awfully hungry, having been so unceremoniously interrupted at our dinner. My faithful little cook was precipitated into the Cellar before a great blast, puffing and panting and holding on to a kettle of boiling water, which was an unexpected luxury in the circumstances. So we managed to make a very jolly meal off the top of a box; and all our stores being in the Cellar, we got hold of a tin of salmon.—the girls had thoughtfully brought a great basin of milk for the children,—and when F. found we were all to eat the salmon out of one plate, his joy knew no bounds, and he stuck his fork into the biggest bit in the dish, which proved too large for his wee mouth, causing great merriment!

“The storm raged till midnight, when we were all thankful to get up to our beds, and found our own room, fortunately, the only habitable part of the house. But oh, what utter desolation the morning light revealed! Our fine large Church a mass of ruins, with one great pillar standing solitary and upright through the rubbish against the clear blue sky. The School House in the same condition, at the other side of the _Imrai_ (= public meeting ground). With the exception of our cook-house and printing-office, not an outhouse was left standing on the Mission Premises; but oh, how thankful we felt that our dwelling-house stood secure, as John was in no condition to have attempted building another. Not even a pane of glass was broken, though of course the roof could not escape, and consequently everything was soaked. The day proved fortunately very hot, and we got all the mats lifted, and mattresses, blankets, etc., washed and dried. The pigs were in their glory, running riot over all the plantations, and I am sure if they could have spoken they would have said in Scotch, ‘It’s an ill wind that blaws naebody guid!’

“Almost every Native on the Island was at work before daylight at his fences; dwelling-houses—and there were not a dozen standing uninjured on the Island—being left till the plantations were secured. School duties were not even thought of. It was so sad to see the destruction of food,—fine large breadfruit and cocoa-nut trees torn up by the roots, and bananas with the fruit half formed lying useless on the ground. But the greatest lamentation seemed to be about the _Tafari Moré_ (= House of Worship), though the general Public were complacently viewing it as a judgment from ‘_Teapolo_’ (= His Satanic Majesty, in Aniwan), for their being ‘so strong for the Worship.’ This is a popular error; and John guarded them against it next Sabbath, preaching an impressive sermon from the text, ‘Labour not for the meat which _perisheth_,’—rather _apropos_ to the occasion!...

“It was altogether a sad time, that, for we had been so tried with Hutshi, the girl I had last time with us in Australia, and who turned out a complete _vixen_; the first of my girls, I am thankful to say, who has not turned out well. She was married to one of our best young lads, and went quite gracefully through the whole affair—I think I wrote you all about it before—but all the while she was dying for my handsome young cook, who is engaged to the little table-maid. She began, soon after the marriage, to persecute her husband and flirt with the other, going from bad to worse, notwithstanding all we could say to her; and one day she behaved so frightfully, that, when we were told of her guilt, John and I sank down on the nearest seats, perfectly overpowered with disappointment and horror. I could hardly have believed that any woman, either black or white, could have so deliberately planned to lead others so young and innocent into sin.

“The young Chief came to ask John how she ought to be punished, as something would have to be done; but he hesitated to give advice, never having been called upon to legislate in a similar case, being indeed too vexed to collect his thoughts; only he strongly forbade them to shoot her, as one or two of the enraged fathers proposed, and advised them to be guided by the Aneityumese Teachers, two wise Christian men from Mr. Inglis’s Station. They said that the punishment inflicted on Aneityum by the Chiefs was to tie up the guilty parties, collect all the goods of those most deeply involved, and distribute them among the people at the other side of the Island, so as not to tempt those around to bring false accusations against neighbours for the sake of their property.

“This was accordingly done in the case of Hutshi; and we had an invitation to be present at the ceremony, which we declined, as John told them it was better he should not be too much mixed up in these things. The only way in which he did interfere was to shorten the time to _three_ hours, instead of the twenty-four they were determined to keep her tied, and which, in my opinion, she richly deserved! Two or three Tannese happened to arrive at her village before she was unloosed, and expressed their disgust at the consequences entailed by the Worship, saying they could have as much ‘fun’ on Tanna as they liked without being punished for it. But one of our Aniwans answered, with a sly wink at his neighbours, that bad as the Worship might be, it had at least not driven them from their own land!...

“I wish I could say that was the last of the trouble we had with Mistress Hutshi; for she professed great repentance, and sent one of the girls, two or three weeks afterwards, to say she wanted to tell me all her badness, as that would make her feel better. She had not been allowed to come near the Mission Premises, nor had we since taken any notice of her. We had very little faith in the young lady’s repentance, but feared to crush any yearning after amendment, if it _did_ exist; and I thought that God might give me a word for her. So we had a long interview; but I felt all the time there was no change in her, as was immediately proved, for she went back tossing her head and telling the others they might talk as much as they liked, she didn’t care, for the Missi was quite satisfied with her now!

“She did not improve, but the Church members round kept such a watch upon her that she did not do anything very flagrant. She did, however, lead her husband a miserable life; and I never believed that a Native could have borne with patience what he did; at last, being able to stand it no longer, he came to bid us Good-bye, saying he was going to live about three miles distant (it was as far away almost as he could get on Aniwa, either in one direction or the other, as his lady-love lived close to us in the centre of the Island!) and that he freely bestowed her upon any man who might be fool enough to take her, as henceforth he would have nothing to do with her.

“She had, out of pure bravado, professed to elude their vigilance and implicated a Tanna man, as well as Rangi (the wildest man on Aniwa), who both proved their innocence. Perhaps Rangi agreed with me that he had enough sins of his own to account for without being blamed for what he really did not do; and being an out and out Savage in his disposition, we feared trouble when he came with all the Tanna men at his heels to inquire about it one morning after her husband had left her. We little expected, however, the scene there really was enacted, right outside our gate too, for it was there Rangi caught hold of her. She gave one spring to John for protection, but the gate was between them, and Rangi wrenched her from it, and the savage yells that got up nearly sent me frantic with terror.

“John stood leaning carelessly against the gate, viewing it all—the calmest person there! He felt that his presence would be a sufficient check, though it would have been folly to interfere. My girls were groaning and crying; and Yawaci (the girl I have here) was unconsciously doing her best to wrench the handles off the dining-room door in her despair, groaning out, “Missi, blood will be spilt!” while I was on my knees in the middle of the floor calling upon God to interfere. But my little F. stopped me, saying, “Mamma, Mamma, I don’t like to see you look up and talk like that! Are you ill?” So I tried to be myself again to the wee man, and felt comforted in having left the case with the Lord. Only I _must_ see Rangi, though I had very slender hope of influencing him; and I put my careful husband into a fine consternation, as he would rather have seen an apparition than me coming on such a scene. I had only a very dim notion, then, of his gestures and entreaties, being deaf and blind to everything except Rangi, who came nearest my idea of a _demon_ of anything I had ever seen!

“The poor girl was tied, with her arms backward, to a cocoa-nut tree, pale with terror, and a hundred muskets bristling round her. The Tannese were in full Heathen costume, which means paint instead of clothing; and the Church members stood calmly, like John, looking on, except two or three of them, who kept guard around her with loaded muskets for her defence from murder, if necessary. Her life was all they or we wished to see spared, for she richly deserved any punishment short of death. I caught Rangi’s eye at last. At a sign he came quietly forward, and I began to tell him he should not dare to shoot my girl, but being too excited I ended in sobs and was marched off,—but not before Rangi earnestly assured me that he would not touch a hair of her head, or let any one else do it, only, he said, she deserved to be tied and ought to be well beaten for blackening his character! We could not keep from smiling, even in the excitement, at Rangi’s care for _his_ reputation, which was truly as black as it well could be.

“Well, here was mistress Hutshi practically put up for public sale; for, according to Native law, whoever dared to unloose her from that tree had to take her for his wife, her husband having renounced all claim to her. Rangi reminded them of this when he tied her up, saying that the Missi only could alter that law if he wished. The Missi did not feel inclined to do any such thing, having devoutly wished her at Jericho ever since she commenced her pranks, as she was proving a curse to the place, and now only hoped that the most tyrannical unmarried man on the Island would take her off bodily as far away as the limited circumference of Aniwa would permit (so did the Church members); but for John to _say_ so would only be the beginning of mischief. He was so anxious they would not appeal to him for advice, for we both felt that for her Native law was the best. But though a score of young men would have gone down on their knees for her before she was married, there she stood for about three hours without a single bidder!

“John had got the whole crowd dispersed to go and cut wood for the lime pits (you know he is of a rather practical turn of mind and likes to utilize the most unlikely occasions), which they did with great energy, having the steam up; so she was left alone, as the women had all to run and cook food. I had a grand donation for the labourers besides the tea, that day, as we had a calf killed the evening before, and I was giving orders about it when I saw John waving me to the study with such an amused face. It seems that Hutshi’s _old_ sweetheart had rushed to him in eager haste, saying, ‘Missi, I never will have such a chance for a wife! Will you marry me to Hutshi, if I untie her?’ John said he certainly could not, and that if he took her it must be _à la Native_, and that he would have to discontinue his attendance at the Candidates’ Class, of which he was a member. He explained, at the same time, that it was not like running away with another man’s wife, as her behaviour (which in Britain would have divorced her) had led her husband to give her up; only that, for the sake of example, he could not countenance such proceedings on the part of intending Communicants. Sarra said, in that case he would have nothing to do with her. But, alas, female influence prevailed, and he unloosed her an hour or two after, amid the Hurrahs of the passers-by and our intense though secret delight; for though Sarra is obliged to confess he has ‘caught a Tartar,’ yet he manages to keep her in tolerable check, being a determined fellow.

“We heartily re-echoed the sentiments of one of our Church members, when speaking of Hutshi, viz., ‘that it was awful what a _woman_ could do, when she was bent upon mischief!’ Indeed, according to the Natives, we have her, along with the two murderers, to thank for those awful Earthquakes which nearly frightened us out of our senses, though on Aniwa very little damage accrued from them.

“The first, at least the first to speak of, occurred near midnight on the 28th March (the second anniversary of our Lena’s birth), and woke us up with a vengeance, being the worst we ever had, the Earth heaving so awfully that we expected every moment to be swallowed up, and were almost paralyzed with terror, but M. and F. slept through it all. After it, _a tremendous_ rush of the sea seemed to take place, from the noise it made, and which we found next morning was the case, carrying our boat from where it lay, high and dry about one hundred yards inland, also canoes, two of which were smashed.

“I lay in awful terror after the Earthquake till three o’clock, and was dropping off to sleep, when another terrible one sent us flying out of the house in our night gowns, John dragging the children out of their beds, and the girls rushing out of their house. There was not a breath of wind, and it was awful to see in the bright moonlight the great trunks of the trees swaying back and forward, and to feel the ground going to and fro with such force. We had one or two slight ones after that, and then just at daybreak an awful repetition,—every one of us simultaneously rushing out of doors! This was number _five_; and before breakfast we went to see the damage done to the boat (but it was uninjured); and we had two more violent shocks ere we got home, making _seven_ in all before breakfast, after which we had a commotion of another kind.

“John felt so exhausted, and had just got fast asleep on the study sofa (a most unusual occurrence with him), when I heard high words between Taia, one of our Church members, and Nalihi, an Erromangan. I knew not what to do, for Natives never waste time on high words—they at once rush to arms; and I was unwilling to wake John to more excitement, as it was exactly that day two years since he had been seized with that awful fever, and I had been in fear of its return, as people predicted it would, about the same time of the year. Well, I actually made up my mind to show my wifely devotion,—and it was a good test for me, I beg leave to say, I always had such a foolish terror of a loaded musket anywhere, and infinitely more so in the hands of an enraged Savage,—by going between the combatants myself. To make matters worse, all the men about had gone that morning to bring lime-coral, and only a few women had collected, and one or two timid fellows who stood at a safe distance.

“Nalihi was flourishing his musket in Taia’s face, as an accompaniment to an eloquent harangue he was delivering in Erromangan, not being able to speak Aniwan; and Taia, who understood and could speak it perfectly, seemed to be paying him back with interest. They subsided for a few moments, when it was whispered the Missi was there; but on finding that it was only the ‘Missi finé,’ they went at it with renewed vigour. I took no notice of the Erromangan, knowing my only chance was with Taia; so I went over to him, and implored him not to utter another word, whatever provocation he might receive; and though reluctant at first, he behaved nobly and stood what I think few white men would have done in the circumstances. I kept close beside him all the time, and though for three quarters of an hour that villain stood heaping insults upon him, and at last, in his rage, cut down his bananas and fences before his eyes, he never spoke, though his muscles twitched and he clutched at his great club sometimes—one that I knew had done good (?) service in Heathen days under the great brawny arms that wielded it; for Taia is a perfect Hercules, and such a contrast to the little treacherous, sharp-nosed Erromangan, who was dying for an excuse to get a shot at him. When I thought Taia was going to give way, I put my cold white paw (it _did_ feel so cold) on his black arm, and every time I did so he turned and looked down at me with a grim smile, saying, ‘Don’t fear, Missi, I’ll not speak.’

“Now I maintain, that though John sometimes fears Taia’s Christianity is not of the highest type, yet he is undoubtedly a _perfect gentleman_, or he would not have stood there, the greatest living orator on Aniwa, silent at the bidding of any woman! When I saw the good food being destroyed and so little left from the Hurricane, indignation mastered every other feeling, and I felt it was high time for John to interfere with Nalihi; as no one else dared to speak to him, except master F., who had, by the way, found us out just then, and proceeded without hesitation to deal with him in plain terms. His little figure heaved with indignation, and he drew such a long breath before calling out, ‘O you naughty, _naughty_ man! You’re a wicked man! Jehovah, _so_ angry at you!’ Every one was so amused, and a general titter went round, while Nalihi, with whom F. had been a favourite, began vigorously to defend himself to the child in broken English, at the same time wielding his axe to some purpose amongst Taia’s bananas. So, feeling my own strength would not hold out much longer, I sped off and brought John, who quietly went up to Nalihi and relieved him of his musket and axe (Oh, I was glad to see that musket in dear old John’s trusty fingers, for Nalihi held it in a horizontal position, and it always _would_ point at me the whole time I stood there!) clapped him on the shoulder and had him sobbing like a child in a minute and offering payment to Taia for the damage done, which, however, Taia was too seriously offended to receive, and I do not wonder at it.

“The crowd began to disperse, and John was taking Nalihi off for a day’s work under his own eye, in case of his coming in contact with Taia again, when I put a graceful finish to the proceedings by going off into a fainting fit under the cocoa-nut trees! John said I managed bravely, all except that; but I do think that after _seven_ Earthquakes and such a scene, I had a good right to get up some demonstration, and it was the first I ever perpetrated for the public benefit!

“We had three more Earthquakes that day, but slight, making _ten_ in all; and I took care at night to provide for emergencies by putting a supply of blankets on the verandah, as there is not a moment to snatch clothes when they come, and we had felt chilly the night before. I got laughed at for what was termed my needless precaution; but we had hardly got into our first sleep, when another violent Earthquake turned us out, and we were thankful for them. It was not so bad as some, however, and we got a sleep till morning without further disturbance, as the grand performance did not come off till next evening at nine o’clock.

“John was busy in the bath-room, with the girls, damping paper for next day’s printing, I was in the dining-room, jotting in my journal the events of the day, when we all had to rush out with the most frightful Earthquake that had yet taken place. The house danced, the windows rattled awfully, and F. woke up with the first of it screaming in terror, but M. took it more gently, telling him it was _nice_. It might have been nice to feel ourselves rocked on the bosom of mother Earth (we lay down on the ground at a safe distance from the house, which we expected to fall every moment), could we have been sure she would not open up and receive us into a closer embrace!

“The heaving must, I think, have continued nearly five minutes, and we had just got into the house again, still trembling with agitation, when a terrible gust of wind and roar of the sea half prepared us for the shouting of the Natives, who called to us that the sea had actually come close to our gate! We went out and found Natives up to the waist in water, where it had been bush two or three minutes before. We heard something flapping, and Yawaci picked up a large fish about twelve feet from our gate; and as the tidal wave receded, they were left in hundreds, which the Natives spent most of that night and next day in gathering. An enormous turtle was found too among a lot of _débris_,—‘Jehovah’s turtle,’ the Natives called it, owing to the way in which it was found.

“No serious accident occurred from the wave on our Island, as in most of the others, though some Natives fishing at Tiara were nearly carried away, and our boat which lay at anchor there was lifted, anchor and all, and carried a long way inland, but to a sandy place, where it got no damage; yet not a canoe, if I remember rightly, was left whole.

“From that time we had a constant succession of Earthquakes, and were kept in continual dread, though none of them so violent as those I have mentioned. We had to sleep with our doors open, and at last John went to bed in his clothes to be ready to run! I suppose you have heard that the tidal wave swept right through Mr. Inglis’s, doing terrible damage and half drowning them, and the Earthquakes kept knocking down his walls and chimneys as fast as he could rebuild them. Dr. Geddie’s fine Church, too, is all but destroyed. But I think the greatest damage done is to the nerves of the poor Missionaries’ wives (the Missionaries themselves would be indignant if you accused them of having any!) It is such an awful sensation to feel the very Earth trembling and heaving beneath one, and such an _eerie_ feeling comes on at night.

... “I must pass over everything else that happened until we turned up in Civilization, and it is close upon Mail time. I would have liked to tell you about our pretty new Church, with its snow white walls, which was finished just before our beloved friends, Mr. and Mrs. Inglis, paid us their farewell visit, which was like to break our hearts, for they have been a father and mother to us and to the Mission. Our parting too with our Darkies was intensely trying, as we are to be away from them a longer visit than the last; but the society of our dear friends, the Murrays, was an unexpected treat, and made the voyage so pleasant notwithstanding the sea-sickness....

“The Home Mail closes in the morning; and I must close, with fervent love, from your loving sister,

“MAGGIE WHITECROSS PATON.”

(1878.)

TO THE FAMILY CIRCLE.

“MY DEAREST SISTERS AND BROTHERS,—

“_Sons and daughter_, I should almost have added, as the biggest half of our little flock are separated from Aniwa, and will as eagerly look for the ‘family billet’ now as the rest of you....

“Now that I have sat down to write, so much comes crowding upon me that I hardly know where to begin; but I cannot put down a word of news before testifying of the Lord’s goodness to us, which has just been vouchsafed during this last hot season. He has encompassed us round as with a shield and preserved us safe and well, though from the day after the _Dayspring_ left for the Colonies on the 14th November last until the 30th March we have lived in daily—I might almost say _hourly_—terror of our lives. We have seen—especially John has—the rage of the Heathen, and passed through Earthquake and Hurricane; but all seems as nothing compared with coming into constant contact with an unrestrained _madman_, and this we have had to do with poor Mungaw....

“You must not think of us as pining in solitude, however. Indeed, poor Mungaw took care to keep us all in lively exercise, and acted his first scene the day after the _Dayspring_ left for Sydney with our mails. You know that he married Litsi, one of my best girls (and how delighted we were at the time that she was getting such a good young man!), who was with me on my first visit to Australia from Aniwa, and you remember how pleased you all were with her. Well, he spent the night beating that gentle girl (who was near her confinement) and their little boy about two years of age; and when John met him in the Imrai and quietly remonstrated with him, he stalked off in high dudgeon; and in two minutes more, a tremendous crackling and roar of fire made us rush to the window, where we saw his nice house and all that was in it one mass of flame. Not content with setting it on fire, he tore off Litsi’s jacket and flung it in too. We quite expected that our own house would go, as there were only two light fences betwixt some of our outhouses and his, but providentially the wind carried everything the other way.

“He then took Litsi and Nomaki, their little boy, to a distant village; and, oh! how we hoped he would remain, as Litsi had friends there, but back he dragged them, terror-stricken and breathless from having to keep pace with his tremendous strides. I sent Litsi an old jacket (she begged me not to send a good one, as it might go the same way), and a blanket to sleep or rather to roll herself in—for there was no sleep for any one near that night. He had threatened to murder some of the villagers, and was stalking round and round our Premises with his loaded musket; but an Aneityumese Teacher kept watch over our house all the night.

“It so happened that next day had been appointed for a ‘Members’ Meeting.’ These meetings are held monthly, for John to appoint them their work, and change it from one to another, so that it might not always devolve upon a few. You know there is no paid door-keeper, or paid service of any kind connected with the Church, so the women take it in turns, two by two, every Saturday morning, to clean the Church and enclosure. One man is appointed bell-ringer, another to take off and on the pulpit coverings and carry in the Bible, etc., two to stand at the doors and see there are no loiterers outside, and so forth. Cases of sickness or wickedness are also reported, and Church matters generally talked over. At this meeting one woman was scored off for absconding from her legal husband and living with another; and Mungaw, who came in with the greatest blandness, as if nothing had happened, got a thorough ‘talking to,’ and was suspended till it should be proved whether he was more rogue or fool—for at that time we could scarcely tell. That he had become decidedly cracked and his mind to a certain extent unhinged, no one who saw and heard him could doubt—especially knowing what a dear good fellow he was before; still he seemed sane enough at times; and when he did break out, it was more like being possessed with evil spirits. All his madness took the form of wickedness, and when he saw people afraid of him he was the more emboldened. It was very difficult to know how to treat him. He was rather cowed at the meeting, though, and kept pretty quiet till the full moon, while meantime we had peace to get all our machinery into working order again....

“John has had great comfort with his big boys, however, especially the one we were most averse to take in,—a great ugly-looking fellow of about eighteen, couldn’t speak without a growl, and scowled at everybody from under his black wool, which hung down over his eyebrows. To crown all, he had been with the slavers—and that is no recommendation!

“After keeping with our boys a day or two and coming to evening class, on the third evening he sent in for a blanket, as he was ‘going to stay.’ We looked aghast. John was for receiving him; but I was at the crying point, and declared I could not feed more Natives or make food go further than other people. John said, ‘Then am I to send him away?’ Well, no! I was hardly prepared to do that either; so, after talking over it a few minutes, we felt sure the Lord had sent him; and though I did not feel particularly grateful at the time, I have often thanked Him since. We went to the blanket box, got a nice warm blanket (the Natives feel chilly at night), called him in, and John had a talk with him about certain rules, after which he took his gift with a very pleasant grin. He looked like a different creature with his hair cut; and a more faithful, helpful, warm-hearted Native lad we never had. In times of danger from Mungaw, he stuck by John like his shadow—no ostentation with it, but quietly getting some pretext for keeping close to him when there was any fear. A capital worker too—for John does not approve of keeping his boys idle, and they help him with whatever he is at, fencing, roofing, gardening, house-building, etc.

“One day he and another big boy (a great wag—keeps the others in roars of laughter, and himself the picture of solemnity) had been planing wood very nicely, and John praised them, calling them his ‘Carpenter’ and ‘Joiner.’ In the afternoon a slate full of writing was sent in, informing us that they wished from henceforth to drop their old names and be called ‘Carpenter’ and ‘Joiner.’ Nor would they answer to any other. We often forgot, at first, but were reminded by their paying not the slightest attention, till we came out with the new name—when they would instantly wheel round with a smile and be at our service!...

“One day, before John was quite recovered, Mungaw put a lot of impudence on his copy for my special benefit. I took no notice—he looked so wild—but pointed out a mis-spelt word, wrote a fresh line, and telling him to follow it closely passed quickly on to the next writer. I told John, when I went in, I was sure he would do some mischief ere long; and just an evening or two after, we heard him shouting and scolding from his house in an awful voice. John limped off, in spite of my entreaties to let them fight it out, and found Mungaw flourishing an axe over a poor woman, whose husband was from home and who had been helping Litsi to cook his fish, but had been unfortunate enough not to divine that on that particular evening he wanted it wrapped in a different kind of leaf from what was usual. He had brought the axe within a few inches of her shoulder, when two or three Natives, attracted to the spot just before John, stayed his arm and wrenched it from him. He got his musket next, but poor Sibo and Litsi both ran to our house for protection, while John and the Natives tried to calm him down. They got his musket from him, and I saw a Teacher slip it behind a tree in our lawn; but Mungaw was sharp enough to notice, and got it away again when the affray was over, and ordered poor Litsi back to her cooking. Sibo went to a distant village to be out of his way, declaring she was half dead with fright; and I would very much have liked to get away from the Island altogether! John’s spirit always rises equal to the emergency, but I get perfectly faint with terror, and the longer the worse. This was merely a little prelude, however, to what followed.

“Next morning he had the audacity to appear at one of the dining-room windows, as the girls were clearing away the breakfast things; and he demanded the keys from John, as he wanted to sharpen his axe at the grindstone. John said, ‘No, Mungaw, you’ll learn to put your axe to a better use first; and I want you to return the two you have of mine.’ He looked the picture of innocent wonder, and replied, ‘What do you mean, Missi?’ John replied, ‘I just mean that I want you to give up your bad conduct.’ ‘My bad conduct! What have I done?’ protested Mungaw. John said pointedly, ‘Do you not _know_, Mungaw?’ That was all the provocation he got; but he went off for his musket, muttering, ‘I’ll let you know who you’re talking to.’

“When he was gone, John went out to his Printing Office for something, and on leaving it saw Mungaw just inside our fence taking deliberate aim at him with his musket. John turned round to lock the door, showing no signs of fear, but feeling that all was over, and that he was to be shot down so near us all and yet none near enough to save; but God was watching! The next instant he heard a rush of feet, a scuffle, and looked round to see the musket pointed high in the air, and four strong arms grappling with the intended murderer. Two men had been accidentally (!?) coming up the path, took in the scene at a glance, and my husband was saved.

“I knew nothing of what was passing, but, feeling restless after Mungaw’s parting look, went out to hurry John in for worship. I met him coming in, and stopped short at sight of his pale face to ask if he were ill, and he told me all. We had just begun to sing at worship, when he re-appeared flourishing his musket, trying the doors and windows (you may believe I had them securely fastened by this time), and demanding entrance. We went on, taking no notice, but the _celestial quaver_ was plentifully introduced into the music, and the girls rushed into the dining-room in great fear. Meanwhile the news had spread like wildfire, and the Church members near came running to order him out of the Premises, which only made him wilder; so they seized him, took him to the Imrai, and bound him hand and foot with ropes. It was a terrible noise and scuffle, for he had the strength of ten men, and yelled like a demon.

“Two of his brothers so-called (not real ones) arriving on the spot, he thought to get up some sympathy, changed his voice to a whine, and bewailed his hard fate,—‘bound and persecuted for doing nothing at all!’ Litsi, gentle Litsi, took her boy in her arms, and walked up to him before the crowd, saying in a loud voice, ‘Look at the marks of your brutality on me and my helpless child, and say whether you deserve to be tied or not!’ It was an imprudent speech for her to make, poor girl, for which he did not forget to repay her. It was a terrible day for us all—poor little F. white to the lips with fear, I lying in a fainting state, and John walking up and down the room trying to keep up our spirits, and wee J.—oh! how we envied him—running about, playing ‘Peep-bo’ in happy unconsciousness of all. The Church members feared that some of the wilder young fellows, whom he had been favouring of late, would come to his aid; but when it was known he had attacked the Missi, not a finger was lifted in his defence.

“They did not know what to do with him, now they had him bound,—nothing in the shape of a prison or secure place on all the Island! They proposed our Cellar, but we didn’t want him quite so near as that; so they let him off at the end of four hours, and Litsi and little Nomaki took refuge with us. Mungaw got a little boy to tell him where they hid his musket; and, once more possessed of it, he flew all round the Island till towards sunset, when he divested himself entirely of his clothing, stuck on paint, and with musket shouldered walked sentry before our front gate for more than an hour. He seemed to be imitating the sentinels he had seen before Government House in Melbourne—a slight difference in the circumstances! But it was thought necessary to have a counter-guard over our Premises that night. The only good thing he did was to send his gracious permission to Litsi to stay in our house for the night, which she thankfully accepted.

“Next morning (Sunday) he met her pleasantly, called her to speak to him (our fence was between them), and threw a large stone at her head, informing her that was the price of her yesterday’s speech. We bound up the deep wound and advised her to lie quiet, but she preferred going to Church with us as the safest plan, for he had been caught several times during the night stealthily approaching our house to burn it, as they thought. None of the villagers slept, two of their lives being to danger. It was a most anxious Sabbath, and we had worship under difficulties—guards being placed at our house and the principal approaches to the Church. Oh, how regretfully I thought of the peaceful Sabbaths and quiet walks to Church in Melbourne, none making us afraid! But we tried to realize that the Lord Jesus was encompassing us around, and that He stood between us and Mungaw. The people begged John to be short, as they were in terror, so we had only one Service in Church, and, instead of Sunday School, a prayer meeting on the Imrai. Mungaw employed the time during Church service in ransacking the villagers’ boxes for ammunition, but they had it hid away; and at the prayer meeting he was reclining, with folded arms, eyeing us from our back verandah! After the prayer-meeting, John urged the different villagers to take it in turns to sleep near Mungaw’s house for the protection of Litsi who was being killed by inches, and at last they agreed; but as soon as we were in the house, he went and patched up a sort of peace—a sham to get the people away—and then abused the people near for tying him, and dragged Litsi home. We were half the night praying for the helpless girl, so completely at the mercy of that madman.

“Next morning, he came into the Imrai in grand style—musket in hand, of course—and scolded the people, working himself up into a frenzy and keeping us all on the rack, for _we_ could see from one of the Study windows,—when, to our great joy, ‘Sail O’ rang out, and it was comical to see how quickly he had to subside before this counter-excitement, and slink away! We felt it was in answer to prayer, more especially when a little afterwards he stood before our gate painted frightfully, and told our herd-boys that he was going in the Vessel if she called here. How earnestly we asked the Lord to let him go, if it were His will, but prayed above all for submission to bear what was appointed us, for we had the feeling he would stay. Poor fellow! he drove us closer into the Saviour’s arms than all Dr. Somerville’s meetings in Australia, for we had Him alone to look to. Natives were kind, but not capable of giving much help—they rather look to us for it—and poor things, we did pity them, when it was known that he had bought a large stock of ammunition, including balls, and that he stayed behind!

“It turned out to be the schooner _Daphne_ for Fiji; and the Government agent sent half a sovereign in a note, begging for opium, as he had seventy-five people on board, and one case of ‘assured sickness.’ John, of course, returned the money, but sent opium pills, laudanum, and chlorodyne, having no opium. We were glad of the opportunity of sending a few hurried notes, bearing a month’s later date than the _Dayspring_, which left on the 14th November. This is the only other Vessel that has called at our Island, since we returned, except the _Dayspring_....

“Christmas came next in order. The little stockings had been duly filled the night before, as F. took care to have J.’s and his hung up, with dim eyes at the thought of the other three which had been filled the year before. It turned out to be a bright day; the bairns were jubilant over their gifts; and there was a general rejoicing over dear Litsi’s re-appearance at the Evening Class—her lord and master having gone out in a canoe with some boys for a night’s fishing by torch-light. Litsi’s face beamed at having an hour or two with us all, for Mungaw did not allow her over her own fence, or any one to go near her; and, as all the women were frightened, his commands were obeyed to the letter, except by us, and for her sake even I had to go stealthily with food (he starved her), as he beat her when he found it out. Our girls did not require two biddings to put a plentiful supper before her, and were cheering her under breath with the hope that his canoe might turn bottom up and he get eaten with a shark, when the most unearthly yell from the shore turned us all pale with terror, and ‘Mungaw!’ was gasped from every lip. Litsi flew home, in terror lest he should find her _out_. The villagers seized their muskets and ran to protect their boys, and John and I to our knees in the Study. But the whole turned out to be a hoax! The boys’ canoe had upset among the reefs, and though they could swim like corks, and were in no danger, it was their pleasure thus to exercise their lungs while splashing about....

“Mungaw made rather a sad New Year’s Day for us, though. While we were at breakfast, more people assembled in the Imrai and high words ensued. John went out to them, determined to sift the matter to the bottom; and at last it came out that Mungaw had gone the day before to the village of Towleka, and said that the people of Inahutshi were going to shoot them on the morrow, and then he deliberately walked to Inahutshi and told them the same thing about the people of Towleka. He was bent upon war; wanted, in his own words, ‘to see blood run.’ Burning houses, and he had burnt several, was becoming rather tame work; and he wanted something more exciting. He boastfully acknowledged the part he had acted the day before, declaring that if they had not _said_ they were going to fight they _meant_ it, which was worse—better to have it out and done with—why else were they carrying their muskets? This was a little too much for their patience, and they did lay about him with their tongues, saying it was he and he alone who had introduced this carrying of muskets, by flying about with his own and threatening to kill everybody. He then said, that if they were not going to fight they ought to come out boldly for the Worship (he certainly did not approve of doing things by halves), singling out by name those whom he knew to have little differences with each other, and ordering them to shake hands and exchange pigs there and then!

“When John thought they’d had enough of it, for Mungaw was getting excited with his nonsense, he suggested that one of them should engage in prayer and let them then get home. A fine old Chief stood up under the banyan tree, and, waving his hand with a majesty a Native can assume at times, offered a simple, earnest prayer, and the people quietly dispersed. But Mungaw tried hard to get them together again, and insisted upon everybody being converted on the spot. He kept on this religious tack for about a fortnight, which was very pleasant, as it allowed us to sit with open windows and doors, and get fresh air and freedom.

“One day, when he was unusually gushing and had presented a pig and food to the very men he had sought to murder,—his speech indicating that the Millennial Reign was about to commence on Aniwa under his auspices,—a Church member said, ‘I think, Mungaw, the people will understand us better, if we burn our muskets and show that we’ll not fight, whatever they may do; here goes mine!’ And suiting the action to the word, he broke and flung his musket into the flames. Mungaw immediately followed suit, with a grand flourish, to the intense relief of all around, for he was a much less formidable personage without the musket, though he still fancied himself a great king. He sent in for a black suit, and permission to conduct the Worship next Sunday, which of course he did not get.

“John sent for him and had long talks with him; but saw it was little use,—he was so crazed, and thought every one in the wrong but himself. His standing grievance against John was—that he kept all the collections (!) taken at the close of Mission addresses (he insisted they went into his private pocket), and did not halve them with him, though he helped him to speak.

“He never forgot the scenes he saw in that den of iniquity to which some wretches took him in Melbourne, under pretence of kindness, when John was unable from my sudden illness in the country to take him home. It bamboozled his then simple mind, how in a land of Gospel light such appliances could be deliberately and systematically set on foot for the on-carrying of evil. I do think, that for their light,—mind, I say _for their light_—our black Christianity is superior to the white. The Natives often said,—‘How is it, Missi, that he was so good and strong for the Worship before he went to your good Land, and has been nothing but a plague since he returned?’ John, of course, emphatically cleared the ‘good Land’ from all blame, adding that he would take care not to give any of the rest of them a chance of going daft by a trip to Australia! They don’t pursue the argument after that, as all are eager to go, and perfectly willing, they say, to accept the risk.

“It was a blessing the Natives were so kind, and oh, how we experienced that ‘God stayeth His rough wind in the day of His east wind’; for except the trouble with Mungaw, we had no other serious ones to contend with, and He gave us to realize as I at least never did in the same way how entirely the work was His. It looked so mysterious, that after we had come down at such a sacrifice to health and family ties to devote our whole time to the work, it should be so retarded by one individual; for often, at his worst, only eight or ten had the courage to come to School, and we could as well have taught fifty. But we could leave it trustingly to the Lord, feeling that all we had to do was the work He laid to our hands from day to day. What a restful feeling it gives one to be ‘only an instrument in His hand.’...

“Litsi was the one most in danger, her house standing a little below ours, and I having been roused at three o’clock to attend her only the morning before, John was very averse to my going, in the circumstances; and I fain would have contented myself with sending her comforts, but I could not think to leave her with her mad husband, who had still sternly refused to let any one go near her; so I hurriedly dressed, roused the cook to boil the kettle, and took one of my girls with a lamp. We found to my intense relief the baby already born, and Mungaw so delighted at having another _son_ that he was inclined to be tolerably kind. I took advantage of his mood—as it was through him I could reach Litsi—praised him for being such a clever doctor, and advised him to get her into the house out of the raw cold air, and offered him the services of my girl to light a fire, which he graciously condescended to accept! When I went back with some tea and things for the baby, they looked much more comfortable, Litsi sitting in the house by a bright fire, with the lamp beside her. Urging her to lie down, I returned home and looked into the girls’ house to see how it was faring with my other invalid,—for dear Yawaci had been carried to us at her own request in a dying state.”...

“All that day was spent running betwixt the invalids. Dangerous symptoms ensued with Litsi. Mungaw got fearfully excited at a lot of women coming to see her, and stood over her with his loaded musket (he had stolen another, as the pious fit did not last long), appealing to me whether his word as Chief should be obeyed or not. I seconded his efforts, as they were doing no good, and got them cleared to a little distance—at hand if they were needed, and by deferential behaviour got him to let me come and go with food, etc. He attributed her illness to an absurd crotchet of his own, and held to it that she would be better at sundown. Meanwhile, the time was being wasted, and we had so many anxious thoughts. Was it right that her life should be sacrificed to a madman’s freaks? Was it right to give in to him, or how far was it right to risk his wrath? We took it all to our ever-present Counsellor; and then John decided that if I found her no better he would go himself, whatever the consequences.

“On my way I met Mungaw coming in at the gate with the empty dishes, and he said quite humbly that he was wrong in his supposition, and would like exceedingly if the Missi tané (= man Missi) would go and see her, for he did not know what to do. John soon put matters all right, telling them there was no cause for alarm,—gave directions about one or two things that had been neglected, and ordered fomentations. She had no more relapses, and he really seemed grateful the next morning when he came for her breakfast, as I could not go to her very early on account of the tidal wave.

“Poor Yawaci was our chief care after that. It seemed strange that Litsi, who so longed for death, should survive so much ill usage, for I could not pen a fiftieth part of the cruelty—the refinement of cruelty—with which he treated her. One instance will suffice. We missed him from Church one Sabbath, and found that he had spent the time _skinning_ the lower part of her face and _pinching_ little bits of flesh out of her chest from shoulder to shoulder, threatening her with his club if she dared to cry out. You will wonder that the Natives did not interfere. We began to lose all patience with them. I remember Mr. Inglis once saying, ‘It was worth living twenty years on the Islands just to know what we owed to Christianity,’ and how I thought they were stupid who did not find out all that in six months or less! I myself have had to live twelve years on Aniwa, however, to know what we owe to Lunatic Asylums, and also to learn how _exclusively_ a man’s wife is regarded as his own peculiar property—that is, to be used exactly as he likes. They would as soon think of interfering with a man’s conduct to his wife, as we would if in civilization a man chose to burn his own carpet or smash his own timepiece. They would break out into the most amused smile, when John was begging them to protect her, and say, ‘But, Missi, it’s his own wife!’ Of course, they were mad enough at him, Litsi being a general favourite, but could not well see their right to interfere.

“Yawaci’s breathing was rather easier; and about eight o’clock, after getting all she could want for the night, we were so thankful to see her lie down for the first time, and fondly hoped she was beginning to recover. She called the girls round her, telling them to sing; and, after beginning the translation of ‘Nearer, my God, to Thee,’ I slipped away leaving them singing it, and got to my bed thoroughly exhausted. Through the night, her husband knocked at our bedroom window, saying she was dying. John sprang up and went to her side, offering a short prayer, but her spirit fled before he had done, and she was buried amid heart-felt lamentations before Church Service on Sabbath, 3rd February. Our hearts were like to break, for she had been a faithful attached servant—_daughter_, rather—to us for ten years; a sweet little thing about eight or nine when she first came, and every year we liked her better. She had a great lump of _heart_, and I can never forget her devoted care of us all at that time when we were both laid up and our precious baby died. It was she I trusted to put the little form in its last resting-place, myself too weak to move! It was so sad to see her friends going about the next few days, their eyes red and swollen with weeping. Weeks after, on putting her Photo. into the hands of one of the sewing women, her head sank lower over it till the heavy sobs welled up; and as it was passed from one to another, there was hardly a dry eye—so generally was she beloved. You have all the same likeness, a true one, taken in Melbourne. Mungaw’s was not so good—at least it did not do him justice in his best days; but it is charming to what he looked like in his last few months—his face was so wild and ghastly.

“Poor fellow, I would fain pass over his sad end; but I must hasten on and have done with him, as I daresay you are as tired of the subject as I. The last open break out with his wife was on the day that her baby was three weeks old. He was in a very excited state in the morning, threw off his clothing, stuck on paint (he supplied himself with balls of blue from our washing-house!), and seizing his musket, said he was going to shoot some one ere he returned. The alarm spread, and John came to me at the sewing class to warn the women; but he soon came back, and I dismissed the School, feeling anxious to get the children into the house (John would not budge from his usual work, but he had always Natives with him), and get doors and windows shut. They had hardly gone when terrible screams came from his house, and I flew to implore our cooks to protect Litsi. Just then John rushed past me, telling me I must not hinder him, as he could not hear that poor girl being killed. Our boys ran with him, and met Litsi running from her house covered with blood streaming from the back of her head. John caught her as she fell forward in a fainting fit, and a woman caught up her baby; they were carried to the Imrai, where John bound up her head and revived her with brandy and water. I sent her some fresh clothes, as John would not let me see her till she was revived and doctored, and I followed with some dinner. Her tormentor was coming too, but John gave him a look which made him disappear into the bush in quick style. He re-appeared with the utmost coolness in a nice clean shirt about half an hour afterwards, and walked right into the Mission Premises, helping about a score of men to carry a huge log of wood which John had asked them to bring for some purpose.—I forget what. During the afternoon School he sat eyeing Litsi and grinning from the opposite side of the Imrai, and chatting with the passers-by, as if he had done no wrong!

“Poor Litzi sat leaning against the Church fence, too weak to notice anything, but thought she was safer there when John had to be in School. He told the Natives that she must not be left to her husband’s tender mercies any longer, but that they must take her to one of their distant villages, and if need be protect her with their muskets. Our house was too near; and besides, if he burnt it to get her it would simply mean death to us all,—our food was in it, and neither of us being extra strong, we could not exist on roots and leaves like Natives,—whereas any of their houses could be replaced in a few days. He said also that it would never do for him to use arms,—his work was to teach, theirs to protect each other when necessary. They all saw the force of his words and heartily agreed with him, but all managed to back out of it, one after another, Litsi being too high-spirited to ask protection from any of them.

“When we heard that she was left with only a few women we both felt it our duty to shelter her, regardless of consequences, and ran out to fetch her; but the poor girl had fled with her two little ones to hide for the night in a plantation, one or two women keeping her company.

“Amid all her own danger, she was mindful of us, and sent a messenger to warn us that Mungaw would be sure to burn the house that night if he could. We had a few necessaries selected, a cask of flour, hops for yeast, changes of clothing, etc., to put into the Printing Office, which would not burn so easily with its zinc roof; but when our Aneityumese Teacher came after dark for their quiet removal, Mungaw accompanied him as far as the door! We all laughed. It was no use, with such a vigilant spy upon all our movements. But we were specially reminded of some One watching over us.

“It began to pour torrents of rain, as it so often did when there was imminent danger, and I sent coverings for the wanderers, hot tea, etc., by a circuitous path, with orders to take them to another invalid should Mungaw meet them. Our girls entered eagerly into it, and poor Litsi was made tolerably comfortable in body for the night, there being an old deserted hut in the plantation. Next morning, her cousin whispered to me that two men had taken her under protection to Towleka, a village a mile off, and that Mungaw had no idea of her whereabouts, supposing her to be with us, as he had sent word the evening before that he would kill her if she went anywhere else.

“He got fearfully roused at not finding her by the afternoon, and sprang up after writing a line or two of his copy (he insisted on attending School) to go in search, beginning at the nearest villages, armed with club and killing-stone, and nearly frightening the life out of a dumpy little virago, who was in the habit of hen-pecking her own husband. It was capital to see her thoroughly cowed for once! His wrath grew with his want of success; and, returning after school, he told our boys in a tone of suppressed rage that he was now going to Towleka to kill Litsi if he found her there. One of them flew through the bush to warn her of his approach, and John and I went to the Study to commit her to God. I think I would have gone mad myself, if we had not had our never-failing Refuge in these troublous times!

“We heard after retiring for the night an infant’s piteous wail, and found that, failing to get the mother (for the Natives would not let him finish her quite, though he dragged her out of the house by her hair, _wool_ rather), he had torn the baby from her and rushed home with it, knowing that she would follow it at any risk. It was _awfully_ hard to keep John in the house, but I felt there was not the slightest use in going. We heard other voices remonstrating, and the cries ceasing we knew that Litsi had come. About midnight, what seemed to be the death wail in Litsi’s voice made us think he had murdered the baby. It continued for about three hours, and rose to a perfect agony of distress before stopping. On inquiry at daybreak, for which we anxiously waited, it turned out that he had tied her arms and legs in the most savage manner, only loosing her when two or three Natives went to the rescue. It was at the risk of their lives they did it, and all warned us not to go to their house that morning, as he was raving mad and would not hesitate to kill any one coming near.

“We just felt that poor Litsi had all the more right to our sympathy, when no one else would go. They insisted that she was dead and the baby too, there was such silence round all the place. John would not let me go alone, and I would not let him go alone, so we compromised the matter by going together, and took a plentiful breakfast as an excuse for intruding on his lordship’s privacy, the Natives looking after with wistful eyes, but not one offering to accompany us to the lion’s den! I trembled violently, though I felt the Lord was with us, and was almost relieved when we found the house deserted; but John called aloud for Litsi several times, and at last she came staggering from an enclosure opposite, from which the occupant had fled when Mungaw first went mad. She was trembling with pain and weakness, and when we were going over the stile, she looked back alarmed and said, ‘You’d better not, Missi,’ so we spoke a few cheering words as we stood, and told her again that our house was open to her, night or day, whenever she needed shelter.

“Some of the Church members came to ask what was to be done with him. Tieing only made him worse; confining or shooting were the only other alternatives. To confine him was impossible. Were they to shoot him? John, of course, would not hear of that, and they asked if there was no sort of medicine to cure madness! A near friend got him away to his village, where they had a long talk, and warned him of the consequences. The moment he went, I ran off to sit awhile with Litsi. We feared she would sink under her trials, and wished she had access to the rich consolations with which we were upheld every day in our little readings both of the Bible and other books. It seemed as if the Words were printed for our express circumstances and comfort. My own morning Reading was in the Psalms, and I never felt them so suitable. The very ones I used to think David had written in a fit of indigestion were fraught with the deepest comfort and meaning, and favourite passages were more precious than ever. I never noticed before that the passage, ‘Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I,’ begins with ‘From _the end of the Earth_ will I cry unto Thee,’—so applicable to us! John and I have often remarked to each other that we had to come all the way to the South Seas to understand some bits of the Bible; and I see Bowen in his ‘Daily Meditations’ says the same in reference to India, where he laboured so devotedly as a Missionary. We have another precious book which we were reading aloud and enjoyed next to the Bible,—Boardman’s ‘In the Power of the Spirit,’ given us also before leaving Australia.

“How we wished poor Litsi could share all these privileges, and wondered if her faith were keeping alive at all, but her spirit was beautifully submissive. When I told her that, however difficult it might be for her to believe it, her Saviour God was tenderly caring for her every moment and would not let her have one more trial than she could bear, and that it would relieve her to take all her sorrows to Him, she replied, ‘Oh, I know it, Missi; my whole words now are prayer; for I have no one else to speak to, and would have gone mad if I could not have told my Saviour! I tell Him everything, and know that it is all right even if Mungaw should kill me, for he can’t harm me beyond the grave.’ I told her not a single night passed that we were not engaging in prayer for her, and she said,—‘These prayers have been answered; for he has had the wish to kill me and burn your house, and he could easily have done both had not God prevented.’

“The whole provocation (I forgot to say) he had for laying her head open at this time, was her saying, ‘Oh, don’t do that!’ when he got up to burn the fine new house he had nearly completed. She learned never again to contradict him, even when he made the wildest proposals. The next house he burnt, a neighbour’s, he told her with a diabolical grin (he had such a beautiful smile in his sane days!) of his purpose, and she merely said, ‘Are you?’ and slipped round to take everything valuable out of it, as the owners were living a week or two on a lonely little islet adjoining this, where the Natives often go for change and fishing. Of course, they said nothing about it on their return; no one in the Island was prepared to tackle such a character, and he presumed accordingly, turning his attentions more to the general public after this, and dividing his favours pretty equally over the whole Island. He plundered the plantations in rotation, and shot all the pigs which came in his way, bringing Litsi part of the spoil; but she suddenly seemed possessed of the spirit of half a dozen, sternly refusing to touch one morsel of stolen food, and took their eldest little boy to the furthest village, begging the people to keep him as he was too young to refuse what was stolen. She then came to beg of me for a dose of poison—she thought the stuff we killed the rats with would do—as he was too wicked to live, and would bring a judgment on the whole Island. She had such a chance through the night when he fell into a deep sleep (the first time he was known to sleep for many weeks), and she had a great wish to take his life, but was afraid God would not like it.

“I confirmed her fears and counselled patience a little longer, as the Missi was getting the boat repaired to go to Tanna, and it was well known Mungaw wanted to go there and stay a while. This was the last hope of the whole Island, and all were eager to see the boat finished, none more so than I, having an additional reason, viz., that it took John away to a distance nearly the whole day, and though he always left me with a body-guard he was not so careful of himself. I must say, the Natives were very thoughtful about him, however, and would not let him continue to take his nightly turns in watching our house. They begged him to arm himself, but that, of course, he would not do. He and our Aneityumese Teacher were the only ones who would not carry a weapon of any kind, or give in to him when it was right to be firm, and they were the only two Mungaw had the slightest fear of; but he kept prowling about our Premises day and night, for what intent he best knew. When he used to set off on his peregrinations, it was such a relief to throw windows and doors open for air; but back he would come with the rapidity of a race horse. Many a fainting fit he gave me; and F. used to get white to the lips when he appeared. Even little J. began to lisp,—‘I frightened Mungaw!’

“About the only time I was thankful to see him come was after he had been tracking John’s footsteps closer than I liked. I was watching him from our front verandah as he went off to his boat, the two lads a little before, when Mungaw suddenly appeared close behind him—axe in hand. I could see a long way, and when John stooped to examine a bush or fern Mungaw stopped too, always keeping right at his back. Visions of the murdered Gordons rose vividly before me, and I felt distracted. I knew that John and the boys were on their guard, and plenty of Natives were about, but a blow could be so easily struck! I went in-doors and told my God and then our Aneityumese Teacher (we showed as little fear as possible before our Natives), so that if he thought there was real danger he would go to him. He looked anxious and questioned me minutely, but went on quietly with his work, and I tried to follow his example; but my feet _would_ carry me to the verandah, till the welcome sight of that usually dreaded form, tossing his axe in the air and catching it by the handle, allayed all fears, for I knew that had he done any harm he would have rushed into hiding.

“His last days were spent pulling up the people’s bananas and sugar-cane, destroying what he could not devour. He took our boys’ blankets and boxes, and walked off with the lookingglass from the girls’ house. Just the Sunday morning before he was shot he turned out all the girls’ boxes while we were at breakfast, and pranced up and down our front verandah. We had just finished our own Family Worship, and John was going off for a little quiet to his Study, when we heard the Church bell being furiously rung a full hour before the time! The Natives already gathered stood staring at each other in consternation, others hurried forward, thinking they were late, and the usual bell-ringer came panting to know why the work was so unceremoniously taken out of his hands! The more they begged Mungaw to leave off the quicker he rang, till John ran out and ordered him to stop instantly, which he did.

“He did not trouble us another Sunday, poor fellow, but he gave me two or three thorough frights through the week, once surprising me suddenly on the verandah, when mounted on a high box, and oil-painting the woodwork of the house. On the following Saturday morning, as we were in the garden, Litsi passed the fence and I ran to her. She said, ‘When will the boat be ready, Missi?’ I told her that there was just a little paint to finish to-day, and it would sail on Monday, so she would have only two days more of endurance. She jumped and clapped her hands, saying, ‘My heart sings, for he’s sure to go!’

“But that same evening, as we sat at a late tea, our spirits brighter than usual, feeling that relief was near (though it came not in the way we expected), for the _Dayspring_ was to leave Sydney on Monday and would be getting nearer us every day, we heard the fatal shot go off close beside us! We have heard as loud reports and even nearer, when they were killing flying foxes or birds, which caused us nothing more than a start and a laugh; but there was something in that which made us spring simultaneously from our seats and stand in awe. John said, ‘Some one is shot! Either Mungaw, or some one by his hand.’ He had barely uttered the words, when the awful death-wail in Litsi’s voice confirmed our fears. Our girls rushed in from the bath-room, where they had been filling baths and getting all ready for Sunday, and said, ‘That’s Mungaw, Missi, for the Inahutshi people told us not to be alarmed if we heard a shot after dark, as we would know it was Mungaw killed.’

“It had all been deliberately arranged, and we knew not a word about it. John said, ‘Then I must run and see what I can do for the poor fellow,’ and was off; but another loud report made me implore him to come back, till we ascertained certainly what the matter was, as he might be shot in the dark without any one meaning it, and F. decided the matter by saying in a faint voice, ‘Papa, will you stay and take care of us?’ His papa put his arm round him and said, ‘Yes, my boy, I’ll not leave the room again.’

“Two or three Natives came to tell us that Mungaw was shot dead, and that John’s going would be no use now. He engaged in prayer, and oh, how our hearts bled for the poor fellow! Now that his sad end had come, we could only think of him as he once was; as, for instance, we saw him one evening years before stand calm and tranquil, with three enraged men pointing their muskets at him for spoiling some Heathen performance, and telling them he would not fight, and that the worst they could do would only send him to Heaven. Or again, as he used to go about pleading with the young boys (a mere boy himself) not to follow the footsteps of their fathers, but come out decidedly for the Lord Jesus. Or again, we thought of the time when he was John’s right hand man, and would almost have laid down his life to serve him. His two nearest friends, on coming to ask if they would bury him at once, laid down their heads and sobbed aloud, though, like all the Aniwans, they had wished for his death. It was a sad, sad night; the hurried and midnight burial, the suppressed excitement, the fear and uncertainty about the real murderers and what would follow next, and last of all that young and once noble fellow cut down in the midst of his days.

“He had just left our Premises and gone home for supper, and then had worship (!) with Litsi, after which she told him not to go outside, as two or three men had been watching for three nights to get a good aim at him. He courted death and _would_ go out, saying to Litsi, ‘You come with me.’ She went out first and thought she saw a man standing; but next moment the attention of both was suddenly directed to a meteor in its transit, and while gazing at it the musket went off, going through Mungaw’s body from arm to arm. He fell down by his own door, crying, ‘_Awai!_’ (= Alas!), and died immediately, the murderers making their escape as they shot the other musket into the air....

“You may be sure, after these trying times and seven months’ utter silence regarding our absent ones, we were intensely delighted to welcome the dear old _Dayspring_ once more. But strange as it may seem, this is our most trying time; for all the anxiety of the past months seems to accumulate into an agony of suspense, from the time her sails are discerned till we have opened the most desired-for letters of our mail and found all well. She arrived at Aniwa just two days after we calculated upon seeing her, April 24th. The first announcement of her approach came as we were assembled in Church at three o’clock for the prayer-meeting; and I’m afraid the Services had not their usual interest for me! How John could proceed quietly with his address, under the excitement, was a puzzle; for I saw him start, and we exchanged earnest looks, as the well-known cry greeted our ears, and then two Natives came panting in with beaming faces, darting intelligent looks all around.

“The Service _did_ come to an end at last, and then every one’s tongue was loosed. It _was_ the _Dayspring_ without doubt; but was there wind enough to bring her in that day? I made an agreement with the herd who went for the goats to shout again if it were very near, and soon a dozen voices yelled back the answer. I flew to give orders for all sorts of preparations, but not a girl was to be found, all having rushed up the hill to see for themselves; and when they came, they were so mad with joyful excitement, that instead of their usual respectful demeanour they tumbled heels over head on the verandah two or three times, before they could compose themselves to work; and so many little things waiting to be done!...

“We gathered round such a happy tea-table; for it is the most exquisite treat to have intercourse with kindred spirits in our own tongue, after jabbering so many months to the Darkies, and to get all the news from the civilized world. Such a Mail too! Over one hundred letters, and no end of papers. We simply looked at all your different handwritings, but devoured our bairns’ monthly budgets that night after our visitors had retired to their rooms....

“The second Communion since our return also took place at this time, and was a season of great refreshing and comfort; but the sight of that little group of Communicants is always too much for me, especially when they stand up to sing so heartily! I could fain lay down my head and sob, were it not that I have the harmonium to attend to and must crush my heart down as best I can. All our trials and privations, looked at in the light of that little _sable band_ (glancing back at what they once were) now sitting at their Lord’s Table, seem as nothing—as less than nothing.

“A stranger might simply have his _risibles_ excited by the somewhat grotesque costume of the congregation. Indeed, I had to turn away my own head, as our two worthy Elders came in for the ‘Elements’ before the Service, with the most imposing gravity, with manifest devotion in their looks, but in all the dignity of their office, and with special hats to grace the occasion. The one had his white shirt done up round his hat so as to represent a puggaree, and, as it hung a long way behind, he had to keep his head well-balanced for fear of it falling back. As for the other, who or what his hat had been originally intended for, we were at a loss to divine! It has always been our difficulty to get them large enough to include their _wool_; but this, a light grey chimney-pot, overtopped wool and all till it rested on the tip of his nose, which fortunately being a very large one prevented his face from disappearing altogether!...

“The Captain’s plan was to land us on Sunday morning, lie off and on till Monday to land our luggage and some wood John had bought on Aneityum, and then return for the McDonalds at Port Resolution on his way northward. Mrs. Milne and I lay pillowed on deck, enjoying the moonlight till quite late, and having such a musical treat from Mr. Michelsen, who sings and accompanies himself on the guitar with great taste. He had been playing it on deck in the afternoon, and we begged him to bring it up again after tea. The moon was brilliantly reflected on the water, and the ship lying so still, when he began with the exquisite guitar accompaniment to sing ‘Jesus, lover of my soul,’—the Missionaries standing round and joining softly in parts, while we were quietly crying. I have heard Oratorios in the old country rendered so that they almost took one out of the body, but never anything that went to my heart like this! You would need to take in the whole circumstances to know how we felt it. The Vessel, with her little band of Missionaries so far from kindred and country, and about to separate for their lonely homes, and we knew not how much trial awaiting them!...

“We have already 600 lbs. of Arrowroot (to pay for the Gospel-books) put up, mostly in 10 lb. bags. The Natives are still making more, and the demands upon me for calico have been endless. After ransacking boxes for every inch that could be got to dry it upon and to make bags, I had to sacrifice all my common sheets and table-cloths; and, while trying to bear up under this calamity with Christian fortitude, John roused all the old Adam in me, by coolly bidding me be quick and get out my _linen_ ones and best table-cloths, as it was a splendid day for drying! I emphatically declared that my few best things should remain untouched, though the Natives should never get their books; and, by a little management in making the others do, I have kept to my _wicked_ vow....

“It is now the 1st of August, though I see that I began this on the 8th of July, and I have not begun to write a single _private_ letter, and so many to answer; and the huge piles, which made our eyes dance with joy on receiving them, are regarded rather ruefully, now that we have got to reply to them! I must leave out, therefore, all other items of interest which I intended writing, as this is already far too long,—and close with warmest love from

“Your ever-loving Sister, “MAGGIE WHITECROSS PATON.”

(1879.)

TO THE FAMILY CIRCLE.

“MY DEAREST SISTERS AND BROTHERS,—....

“Our next bit of excitement was on New Year’s Day, when the usual shooting match came off, and prizes were awarded to the winners. The most amusing part to us was the racing amongst younger boys and girls. The Chief, whom John had placed in charge of the prizes, would put a belt, necktie, or bit of red calico on a post at a certain distance off, and then the word of command was given to the eager little monkeys, and they made such a scramble as they neared it! The grand entertainment, however,—the Magic Lantern, was reserved for the evening, and was quite a success. Everybody on the island that was able to crawl at all put in an appearance, including two old bed-ridden women, who set out in the early morning and managed a journey of two miles by the time it got dark! John had all Mr. Watt’s slides, as well as his own, and the Natives were in perfect ecstasies of delight the whole evening; but when he finished off with ‘the revolving light,’ they fairly yelled with delight and amazement, declaring it must be ‘Tetovas’ (= gods) who made that!...

“The Vessel turned out to be a _Slaver_, and sent in a boat with Native crew and two white men in search of Natives. The boat kept in deep water just outside the reef, and some Aniwans waded out and were shouted to in ‘Sandal-wood English.’ They wanted men or boys, and would give a musket for every one they got. Our Natives shouted back that they were ‘Missi’s worshipping people,’ and did not want to go with Traders. One of the white men stupidly (it must have been in fun) levelled a musket at one of our Natives, when the cap snapped and set the Natives in a great rage, believing that he tried to kill some of them. The man levelled at, a fiery fellow, a returned labourer, flew for his musket and would have made short work with the white man, had not John and the Church members interfered,—John actually standing right between him and the boat to prevent shots being fired. He waved the boat off with his hat, pointing to the armed men, which they seemed to comprehend, and after returning hats they made for the ship, which soon disappeared in the horizon.

“I was annoyed enough at John exposing himself, not that a person on Aniwa now would harm him, for I often wish that they loved their Saviour as much as they do their Missionary, but it is seldom one’s duty to stand in the way of loaded muskets! You would hardly believe, though, the kind of thanks he got from the wretches he tried to save. They went to Faté, wrote out a paper to the effect that ‘they had called at Aniwa for labourers, but that the Missionary, Mr. Paton, had come out to attack them at the head of an armed party. The man in charge of the boat, however, had Mr. Paton covered with his rifle, so that had a single shot been fired into it he would have fallen in revenge.’ And the paper has been posted up on the door of the principal store in Havannah Harbour! Those are the sort of men, authorized by our British Government to scour these Islands. We were perfectly thunderstruck when Mr. McDonald happened to mention it to John, after he had decided to go North, in case he should see it himself. Mr. McDonald sees enough of the Traders and their doings, and treated it with amused contempt as it deserved.

“It is nearly as bad as the Nguna case, where the chief mate of the _Jason_ swore in a Queensland law-court that the Rev. P. Milne caused the Natives to fire into his boat. A Man-of-war was despatched to inquire into the proceedings of this dreadful Missionary, and it was proved that poor Mr. Milne was sound asleep in his bed (it was early morning), and did not even know of the affray till months after it happened. It was the two husbands of two Native women, that this honest mate was trying to make off with (and did make off with), that owned to having fired the shots! It is not the first time that John has interfered to save the worthless lives of these Slavers; but the whole fraternity may be riddled with bullets before I consent to his stirring his finger again in their miserable quarrels....

“Litsi has since consoled herself with another husband,—related to poor Mungaw, and a real love-match, as they both freely confessed. Litsi was as playful and coy over it as a young lassie; though, when she stood up for the ceremony, she whisperingly informed the bystanders with a giggle that she didn’t want to get married! I suppose she thought some appearance of an apology necessary for her third presentation in that Church as a bride. We felt thankful when the marriage was past, for there had been the usual scramble to get her and consequent bitterness of feeling by the rejected ones, some of them far handsomer and better men than the prize winner, but Noopooraw had shown the depth of his affection by threatening _to kill her_ if she did not have him, which according to Native is the strongest expression of devotion, and is precisely the same as a wildly-enthusiastic admirer at home threatening _to kill himself_ in similar circumstances. The despairing lover in these Seas never dreams of taking away his own life, but hers instead, finding that probably the more powerful argument of the two!...

“It is getting very late and I must pass over all else and tell you what a charming time we had at Erromanga, where the Mission Synod was held this year. Mrs. McDonald and I were the only ladies to keep Mrs. Robertson company; and I was complimented upon now being the “mother” of the Mission, and carrying my honours quite becomingly—having become plump and vigorous since the Hurricane.... It seemed like fairy land to enter dear Mrs. Robertson’s pretty, shady, cool house after enduring two days’ suffocation with the horrid bilge water on board the _Dayspring_.... Every day brought us fresh pleasures, afternoon rambles on the mountains and walks by the river course up that beautiful valley, when ‘the brethren’ were at liberty to dance attendance on us, having all their Synod business over before dinner.... How pleasantly those days flew past, only they can understand who have been cut off from kindred spirits as we are! We three ladies were, of course, all that could be wished for (?); and every one of the Missionaries was kinder than another. Even in Synod, where Ministers are apt to indulge in the grace of _candour_ to an uncalled-for degree, there was not a jarring word—owing, perhaps, to that bilge water having taken all the bile out of them on the voyage!... The house is charmingly situated on terraced ground at the foot of a high mountain, near the centre of the Bay, with that lovely river to the right flowing past within a few yards of the enclosure.... Our eyes were constantly wandering off to the lovely scene before us,—and one with a history too! That very river was once reddened with the blood of Williams and of Harris; and the grass-covered mountain towering up from it was the scene of the Gordon tragedy,—while their grave-stones gleam white through the greenery on its opposite banks. Dear Mr. McNair’s grave is close beside them. All looked so peaceful now, with the _Dayspring_ lying quietly at anchor in the Bay, and canoes manned by _Christian_ Natives paddling about in its blue waters!

“What a contrast to these former days of blood; and even a contrast, as the Robertsons told us, to what they had to suffer only in January last. The Heathen Chiefs were getting fierce at the rapid strides Christianity was making all round the Island, and laid a deep plot to take the Missionaries’ lives. They chose their time well, when nearly all Mr. Robertson’s young men were away at Cook’s Bay; and you may imagine his and Mrs. Robertson’s feelings, when the alarm got up one night as they sat quietly reading. They went into their bedroom and took their stand beside their three sleeping children. Escape by sea was impossible, even could they get to their boat, the night being stormy. Mrs. Robertson turned to her husband and said,—‘Do you think they could touch those sleeping lambs?’ He smiled bitterly,—‘What do they care for our sleeping lambs?’ Yomit, a devoted Erromangan Teacher, came in to them, and she turned to him, saying,—‘O Yomit, do you think they could have the heart to kill those little sleeping darlings?’ He raised his arm and said,—‘Missi, they’ll have to cut this body of mine in pieces ere ever they get near them!’ He started off and collected all the available help necessary, sending secret messages overland in different directions to their friends, so that before morning the Mission House was surrounded by 200 warriors, ready to give their lives in defence of their Missionary. And these were the very men who murdered the Gordons;—explain the change! Jesus has been amongst them!...

“Our visit there was all too short, as the Synod lasted only a week. We commemorated the Lord’s Supper together, on the Sabbath evening before we broke up. One evening too there was an interesting Bible Society meeting, at which John was Chairman; and, in response to an urgent appeal from London, Mr. Copeland proposed that Missionaries and seamen should all add a day’s wages to their usual subscription—which was most willingly agreed to....

“We tore across from Erromanga with a good wind, landing about sundown, and got a warm welcome from our dear old Darkies, who had all turned out in their best garments to meet us, though it was pouring rain. John went on in the _Dayspring_ to be left on Tanna for a fortnight at Kwamera, to make some small return for the Watts’ great kindness to our Natives while we were in Melbourne.... He enjoyed his fortnight there intensely. The Mission Premises were like a new pin, and the Tannese longing for Mr. and Mrs. Watts’ return with their whole hearts. Their little boys and girls at the Station attended to John so faithfully, and continually followed him about, asking daily and often in a day the same question,—‘When will our Missis be back?’ There are more than the Tannese longing for their return, and it will be a glad day when we see their dear faces again....

“John has decided not to make any change for another year, if at all able to hold on. It is no use now for me to pretend I’m delicate, as appearances so tell against me! But I insist that I’ve got _heart_ disease, and that only the sight of my bairns can cure it....

“It is only a week yesterday since John returned from Kwamera, and was overwhelmed with such an ovation as he never yet got from our Natives. They opened their hearts to the most unheard-of generosity, and actually parted with their precious _pigs_ to show their love for him, besides a great quantity of yam. They also gave a present about half the size of ours to the Captain of the _Dayspring_,—pigs, yams, cocoa-nuts, and bananas. His were laid on the centre patch of grass before the house, and John’s to the side, in front of the Study door. The pigs (thirteen in number!), all tied and laid out to be seen to the best advantage (they were _heard_ too), so that when Captain and Mrs. Braithwaite and John arrived they were greeted with—

‘Pigs to the right of them, Pigs to the left of them, Pigs in front of them, Guzzling and grunting.’

How they did grunt! The Captain growled out his thanks in sailor’s phraseology, which having translated, John walked round to the side, followed by his grinning Parishioners, and politely thanked them for their kind gifts to us,—telling them that it was the feeling which prompted it more than the gift itself which he valued! I felt that he was telling the truth in all sincerity, for he hates the very sight of pork, and whispered aside to me,—‘What on earth are we to do with all these beasts?’...

“We expect the _Dayspring_ in about a fortnight to call for our mail, and as I’ve a very large one to answer it is time it were begun, for we’ll be very much interrupted by the arrowroot making. The whole of the Natives are busy digging it up at present, and the Premises will be like a beehive in a few days when they begin to grate it. We were so pleased to be able to tell them that the last sold so very well through the great kindness of Melbourne friends. The calico in the South Yarra boxes—worth its weight in gold—is being sewed up into sheets and bags for drying and packing it, as fast as ever we can; but we hardly expect it to be ready to go till the December trip of the vessel. They are to have _another book of the Bible_ printed in the Aniwan language.

“Ever, with warmest love, “Your loving Sister, “MAGGIE WHITECROSS PATON.”