CHAPTER IX.

BATHING _AL FRESCO_—THE UPPER REWA—BARTER—NATIVE HOUSES—A FUNERAL—WEDDINGS—GRACE.

NAKORO VATU (THE STONE TOWN), _December 19, 1875_.

DEAREST JEAN,—You will have heard from Eisa of our start from Rewa. Now we are a long way up the river, and indulging in a sort of continuous picnic, which is full of interest to me, though very difficult to describe so as to convey to you any idea of its fascination to one actually living in it.

The stream, of course, narrowed rapidly as we ascended, and in doing so gained immensely in interest. Gradually we approached beautiful mountain-ranges, and whenever we landed and ascended even the smallest rising ground, we found ourselves encircled by a panorama of rare loveliness. But of course, so long as we were on the water-level our horizon was bounded by the river-banks, and after a while the mere loveliness of vegetation became almost monotonous, and we found ourselves gliding unheeding past forests of tree-ferns and grand old trees, festooned with a network of lianas, rich and rare, such as a few days previously would have driven us into ecstasies of delight. Here and there, where some quiet pool in a rocky stream offered a tempting bathing-place, we called a halt, and therein revelled, while the boatmen were boiling the kettle and preparing breakfast or lunch in some shady nook at a respectful distance. No words can describe to you how delicious are such impromptu bathes in clear sparkling streams, embowered in exquisite ferns, which meet overhead, throwing a cool shade on the water, and forming a lovely tracery, through which you get glimpses of the bluest sky. And the light that does reach you is mellowed, and the colour of the great fronds is like that tender green of beech-woods in early spring; and the water is so fresh and delightful that you would fain prolong your bathe all day.

We halted several days at Navounindrala, where the river branches off into two heads, the Wai Nimala and the Wai Nimbooco, both too shallow at this season to admit of the large boat going any further; so, leaving it at the junction, we transferred our three selves to one very large canoe, while two ordinary ones carried our necessary goods. Thenceforward we paddled and poled by turns, as occasion demanded; and when any difficulty arose in ascending rapids, we invariably found ready helpers willing to lend us their aid.

We first proceeded up the Wai Nimbooco, sleeping at various villages, in which no white women had previously set foot; nor, indeed, any white teacher, for it is only a year since these people were cannibal and heathen. The first native teachers sent to them died in the measles, and those now sent to replace them are men from the Windward Isles, half Tongan, and they find great difficulty in mastering the mountain dialect, which differs greatly from that of Bau and other coast districts. But the people seem eager to make the very most of their small advantages, and everywhere we find flourishing schools and most devout congregations; and our party receives cordial welcome, the villagers crowding round to shake hands, foreign fashion. I certainly prefer this to having my hand sniffed impressively!

In some villages the people brought very curious bowls, clubs, and spears for sale, and I have greatly enlarged my collection. Some of the wood-carving is so fine that it fills me with wonder, when I remember that hitherto the only implements of these artists have been stone-axes, and rats’ or sharks’ teeth to do the finer work. Imagine the patience and contrivance which every carved spear-head represents. I bought several very tall carved walking-sticks, used by the old men, which I think some of you will like to adopt as alpenstocks, though you can never hope to look as picturesque as the fine old men who brought them to me. They generally ask for large strong knives, or so many fathoms of very wide strong white calico, in preference to money, and are very discriminating as to quality, having learnt by sad experience how worthless are the cheap Manchester fabrics sent to these isles for trade with natives—mere whitened shams, made up with dressing, and useless when washed.

Each night we slept at a different native house, and became quite expert at rigging up our mosquito-curtains to the rafters, and constructing little rooms of matting, to give us each a corner to ourselves, always planned so as, if possible, to include an open door, to secure fresh air, for these people are as careful to exclude the night air as any old woman in Scotland.

When our sleeping quarters are arranged, then comes the curious evening meal, followed by family prayers, with reading and singing, at which are present a troop of villagers, who have previously assembled to see the strange white people eat the food presented by themselves—happily with the addition of tea and sugar, and white bread, which Mrs Langham (notable housekeeper) succeeds in baking, on every possible occasion, in a small portable oven.

All the houses, whether of chief or vassal, are alike built on a foundation of stones several feet high. Thus the house is raised above the damp ground. Sometimes you enter by steps, rudely hewn from one log; and a wooden bowl of water invites the visitor to wash his feet before entering. We invariably take off our boots to avoid dirtying the nice clean mats. Every house consists of only one room, varying, of course, in size; but the largest must be limited to the length of one piece of timber, which is the ridge-pole, and with two other roughly hewn trees, laid lengthwise, supports the frame-work of rafters, whereon rests the heavy thatched roof, the whole sustained by upright trees, notched at the top, and all bound together with strongly knotted stems of some forest vine. The sides are supported, and doorways formed, by black pillars, about ten feet in height, made of the stems of beautiful tree-ferns, which here grow in such abundance that they are commonly used for making fences, also for edging graves.

In building a large house about a hundred of these pillars are required. Those forming the doorway are frequently bound with _sinnet_ (which is a kind of coarse string), black, brown, or yellow, interwoven so as to form most elaborate patterns, extremely artistic in effect. Sometimes in churches, all the rafters are thus adorned, each being of a different design, telling of the patient care that has been lavished on their decoration. Sometimes, too, they are ornamented with pure white shells (the _Cyprea ovula_), strings of which are also wreathed round the projecting ends of the ridge-pole, and hang thence in long graceful festoons.[22]

The walls, both of houses and churches, are generally formed of reeds, with a thick outer coating of dried leaves. You can fancy how readily such buildings burn on the smallest provocation; the only marvel is why fires are not far more numerous, considering the extreme carelessness with which the blazing bamboos, which act the part of candles, are carried about; to say nothing of the fireplaces, of which there are occasionally several in one house, and which are merely hollows sunk in the floor, with an edge of rough wood dividing them from the mats. One of these is generally in the centre of the house. Chimneys are unknown luxuries; so the smoke floats about at random, and settles in rich brown layers on the rafters, and on the household goods that rest thereon, which sometimes include an old war-club of curious form, which probably has made short work of many a foeman’s skull, or a long black spear, with three or four feet of most beautiful and intricate carving extending upward from the head.

There is generally a sort of scaffolding of rude posts and shelves above the fire, which is used for cooking, and here, through the thick blue wood-smoke you perceive various cooking-pots and earthenware jars. Carved wooden bowls of various form and size hang round the walls: some with curiously carved handles, of which you never see two alike, are used to contain oil; others are used in the manufacture of the noxious national drink called _yangona_ (elsewhere throughout the Pacific known as _kava_).

The large wooden bowls in which the yangona is prepared, and the small cocoa-nut shells in which it is served, both acquire a beautiful enamel, sometimes of a bluish colour, which is called the bloom, and gives great value to the bowl. A few wooden pillows—merely a stick or bamboo on two short legs—complete the scanty household inventory. There is no more furniture of any sort.

All round the fires lie the family and their friends on their mats, beneath which is spread a thick layer of soft dry grass.

We always occupy what I may call the “company bedroom;” for though the whole floor of the house is alike covered with mats, the best are reserved for the upper end, which is generally raised about a foot, forming a sort of dais for the use of the principal persons present, and often carpeted with a pile of fine mats. This is invariably given up to us, and here, as I told you, we hang up our mosquito-curtains, and with the help of a few mats and plaids quickly rig up our simple tents.

The other end of the room is generally crowded all day. Happily most of the natives clear out at night; but so long as the rare spectacle of three white faces is to be seen we cannot wonder at the interest created, one which, I am bound to say, is reciprocal. Many of our visitors walk for miles across the mountains, bringing us presents of food; for, however poor they may be themselves, the customs of Fiji require that the utmost hospitality should be shown to strangers; and in the case of such honoured guests as a missionary and his party, every care must be taken that they, at least, shall find no lack of whatever the villages can supply.

After spending a week on the Wai Nimbooco we returned to the junction, and thence turned up the course of the other stream, the Wai Nimala, and at sunset reached this town. We were greatly tantalised by the charming position of the teacher’s house, on a somewhat isolated hill, commanding a grand view; but, as a matter of policy, we had to stay at the chief’s house, in the very middle of the village, and felt it close and stuffy, though it is a large house, very well built. Eight large trees form the main pillars, while upwards of one hundred fine tree-ferns have been sacrificed to make the small black pillars on either side. The walls are of double reeds, crossed; very beautiful patterns of fine sinnet-work (_i.e._, coloured string), on the lintels, and hanging curtains of long grass. The chief himself is ill, lying before a blazing fire, which, with a thermometer at about 80°, is scarcely our idea of comfort. The only thing he seemed to enjoy is an occasional bowl of very sweet tea, which Mrs L. makes for him, and which is a very great luxury; though to us the lack of milk is a continual drawback. Sometimes we make cream by grating cocoa-nut and squeezing it through a cloth; but though delicious for very occasional use, it is so rich that we very quickly take a strong aversion to it, and prefer to do without. Occasionally we get an egg, which, beaten up, is really an excellent substitute.

A poor fellow in the house next to us was very ill all last night, and died this morning. He was a stranger, with no one to mourn for him, so he was rolled up in an old mat, with head and feet protruding, and thus carried to his grave. On reaching the place, Mr Langham found it had been dug too short, so it had to be lengthened at the last moment. It is a pretty burial-ground, the graves, as usual, edged with tree-fern wood. I had a solitary walk up the hill, through tall reeds, up gullies shaded by rank plantains, all matted with lovely vines, and had a grand view from the high ground. This village is clean and orderly.

To-day being Sunday there has been much church-going,—very large and attentive congregations,—apparently most devout. After morning service there were no less than thirteen weddings! Some were new couples; others very old folk, who wished to be legally wedded on the occasion of their becoming Christian and _one-wived_. The superfluous wives are in large demand by men who hitherto have failed to secure domestic bliss. We also had several baptisms—one was a big child, who was so much alarmed at the sight of the white teacher that he ran away howling.

At this moment I am surrounded by a crowd of brown women, who have crept up to me very shyly and cautiously, and are watching the progress of this letter with great interest. Already some of them have begun to learn writing, and many can read quite fluently. To-morrow there is to be a great school examination. Supper is ready—roast pig and _taro_; and all are hungry, but waiting for Mr L. to say grace,—so I must go. Good-night.—Your loving sister.