CHAPTER XIX.

THE CHIEF OF MBUA—FEUDAL RIGHTS—A NIGHT IN A MISERABLE VILLAGE—CHURCH _A LA_ ST COLUMBA—NIGHT ON A DESERT ISLE—SAVU SAVU—BOILING SPRINGS—THEIR USE—PAST AND FUTURE.

NI SONI SONI, VANUA LEVU, _August 16_.

We are resting in great peace in a large clean church, built of coral-lime. It stands apart from the village, on a grassy spit of land, divided from the sea-beach only by a border of Fijian lilies—overhead are tall cocoa-palms. It is a calm pleasant spot, and we hope for a night of peace and rest, of which we stand sorely in need.

We hoped to have reached Mbua about noon on the 13th, but we had seventeen miles to make in a head-wind, so it was near sunset ere we anchored in the bay, after which we had to row three miles up the river, which, like the Rewa, has several mouths, and we tried the wrong one first, and rowed a considerable distance up a fine stream, dense with _tiri_ (mangrove) on either side. Then, retracing our ground, we made a fresh start for the town; but by this time it was so dark that we could only discern dark palms against the sky, and had to shout to people on the shore to learn our way.

On reaching the mission station we found the inmates absent, but the students lighted up the house, and prepared tea and milk; and soon a kind neighbour (Miss Wilkinson) brought us a welcome gift of fresh butter and bread. I regret to say her father is suffering seriously from internal cramp, brought on by long exposure in the canoe coming to Nasova with the news of the wreck of the Fitzroy.

A wild storm beat up in the night, and we were thankful to be on land. The country round is bleak and barren; but heavy rain-clouds and mists glorified the very shapeless ranges of hills, and suggested parts of Scotland.

In the morning we called on the chief, Tui Mbua, a middle-aged man, with a pleasant-looking wife. Not long ago his favourite son committed suicide, in his rage at finding his father’s laws enforced against some of his peccadilloes, as if he had been a _kai-see_ (_i.e._, of low birth). Such very great laxity is allowed to chiefs by the feudal system (which always has prevailed in these isles, and is likely in a great measure to be continued), that it really must be difficult for a man always to stop at the exact point where a chief’s right becomes wrong.

There is a system in force called _lala_, by which a chief may claim from his people whatever service or property is required for any public work affecting the good and honour of the tribe. This is considered right and proper, and his commands are willingly obeyed. But the system is liable to great abuse, being constantly called into action merely to gratify some whim or personal pleasure of a chief—as, for instance, when he covets some expensive article, and his people have to raise the payment. This abuse is called _vaka saurara_—_i.e._, “taking by force,” and is simply an oppressive form of levying black-mail. A common instance of the way in which this is done is when a chief (or more probably his son) starts on a journey with a party of his retainers, perhaps several canoe-loads of people (in former days they would all have been armed men). Perhaps they are going to some great feast (a _solevu_ or exchange of property), to which they must carry some offerings, expecting to receive a good exchange, each district bringing its own produce. They probably start literally empty-handed; but at every village where they halt, they demand not only food but gifts, and a Fijian thinks it shameful to refuse to give anything for which he is asked. So these rolling stones disprove the old proverb, for they gather as they go, and reach the _solevu_ well provided—their progress along the coast being marked by every manner of evil; for they regard neither rights of property nor domestic ties, but are simply a curse to the quiet hard-working villagers. They have only to see and covet any man’s goods, and straightway appropriate them.

I believe the system, in its true and legitimate working, is considered both wise and good. It is apparently the only way to get a semi-civilised race to work well together for the good of the tribe; and it is a custom which, from time immemorial, has existed throughout the group, being the tribute rendered by the people at the bidding of their chief, to be repaid by protection and by a fair share of all goods acquired by the tribe. It applies to planting gardens, making roads, building houses and canoes, fishing for turtle, or any other work requiring combined action. People even from other districts may be summoned, and in return for their work receive daily food, and presents of cloth and whales’ teeth on their departure. Thus work is done quickly and well which would otherwise be impossible.

Suppose a great canoe has to be built. All the best carpenters in the tribe are _lava’d_, and the fittings of the canoe are _lavaka’d_ from every village in the chief’s district. Each is required to furnish so many fathoms of narrow matting to make the great mat-sails. This is provided by the women of the village. Ropes, sails, tackling, and all the different fittings, are also thus provided. So is the food for the carpenters. Then when the new canoe is finished, the people must prepare a great feast at every place where it calls. When one great chief visits another, food is _lavaka’d_ for the entertainment of the strangers; and I am told that this occasions frightful waste, as each chief tries to outdo what others have done, that he may appear liberal before his guests. So these visits sometimes leave whole districts in a state of famine.

We heard sore complaints in this district of the chief’s exactions of compulsory “presents” from the very poor villages hereabouts. A short time ago he ordered all the people from far and near to assemble and bring him 40,000 yams, 700 mats, and every man a whale’s tooth, each of which represents upwards of a shilling in value, but _means_ far more. It symbolises goodwill; and the giving of a whale’s tooth accompanies every action of the smallest importance—from asking for forgiveness, or claiming the clubbing of a foe, or bringing in his body. Well, of course, many of these poor men had not got a whale’s tooth, so they had to go and beg for them from their friends. One canoe which started on this quest was upset, and six men drowned. Two of them left tiny babies, who were brought to be christened at the most wretched of all the villages we have seen—one from which you could not conceive it possible to wish to extort the value of a pin. But it struck me that this great chief was far more inclined to receive than to give. After witnessing the generosity of the Mathuata chief, I was much amused when this man, with considerable formality, presented ten cocoa-nuts for the use of the teachers and crew of the Jubilee, being, I understand, his sole offering to the mission for the year. Evidently we have left the unsophisticated regions, and returned to those where white influence prevails!

Returning on board, we found the wind was dead against us, and after vainly beating in great misery for several hours, we had to anchor for the night within sight of the Wilkinson’s house, and sorely regretted not having taken their advice to stay where we were. We had a hateful evening and night; and as the cabin was unendurable, there was nothing for it but to lie on deck in the rain and get soaked, which we did most thoroughly.

We tried a fresh start in the morning, but there was still a head-wind and rain; and everything was so saturated and miserable, that it was resolved to anchor off the first village we came to. This proved to be Namau, a filthy village in the mangrove-swamp, poorer and more miserable than any place where we have yet been. The people looked diseased from sheer poverty, and we scarcely liked to enter their houses, but we were driven to desperation by the longing to try and dry our clothes; and their kindness and hospitality knew no bounds. They seemed delighted to welcome us to their poor homes, and heaped up blazing fires to dry us and all our goods. The fireplaces (as I have told you, when speaking of other isles) are placed wherever fancy prompts—just a sunken oblong, anywhere on the floor, with a few rounded stones, on which rest the large earthenware cooking-pots. Very picturesque!

We divided ourselves among the different houses, and our goods were scattered all over the village; but everything, to the smallest trifle, was brought safely back, and a few small gifts were received with wonder and delight. The (very meagre) contents of my travelling-bag were gazed at with much interest, especially some photographs of sacred subjects in one of my books. They all called one another to look at and discuss these; one of the Crucifixion, Mary at the foot of the Cross, chiefly riveting their attention. I often wonder, considering how many of our own impressions of sacred things are due to pictures seen in early life, that their use is so entirely neglected in all these schools. It may be because the supply is not forthcoming. Certainly these highly imaginative people have always shown themselves wonderfully capable of realising things unseen; and even in their days of most gross idolatry, their religion was entirely an appeal to the imagination—wild legends of the gods, told in song, but very rarely reduced to the visible form of any idol. The only pictures I have seen in any native houses are portraits of (I think) Holloway, whose advertisements are duly sent to all native ministers in the group. The literature is of course thrown away on them, but the portraits, sometimes several in a row, ornament some prominent pillar.

As soon as we were moderately dry, we settled ourselves for the night in the wretched little church, which is a miserable spot, with mangrove-swamp all round it. It is the tiniest little building of wicker-work—quite a St Columba style of architecture,[38] wattle without the daub; and the rainy wind blew through it, and the mosquitoes took refuge in it. We had a weary night. Being very tired, we all hoped for a good night’s rest, but had hardly fallen asleep when a cheerful brother missionary, in aggravating health and spirits, chanced to anchor at a neighbouring village, and in his delight at hearing his friends were so near, he came over and woke us all, and kept the gentlemen talking the whole night. Pleasant for Mrs L. and myself, who were vainly striving to sleep! At early dawn the two little orphan babies I told you about were brought to be christened, so we had to hurry over our dressing, and for once were right glad to return on board ship. How any human beings can deliberately build their villages in these mangrove-swamps passes my comprehension. It simply means living in the mud, with salt or brackish water on every side, and mosquitoes in myriads.

Our quarters to-night seem strangely luxurious, and I must profit by them and sleep now,—so good night.

* * * * *

_August 17._

After all, I did not sleep long, for I woke to see such lovely moonlight that I crept out of my corner made of mats and my old green plaid, and went out to sit alone by the brink of the great waters, and watched the earliest lights before dawn. Now all are astir, and we are just starting.

* * * * *

CAPTAIN BARRACK’S HOUSE, SAVU SAVU, VANUA LEVU, _August 22, 1876_.

I have been here for some days greatly enjoying the blessings of the land, and this most lovely scenery. We left Ni Soni Soni at dawn on the 17th, purposing to make the isle of Taviuni, but finding the wind fair for Levuka, steered for that port. Another change of wind put a stop to that, and we could make but little way. After a weary day of beating, we succeeded in nearing the small uninhabited isle of Namena. Tempted by the lovely foliage which overhung the white sands and drooped right over the water, we landed in search of some shelter which might act as sleeping-quarters. After a long hunt, during which I cut my boots to pieces on the rocky coral shore, we found a slightly projecting rock—a poor shelter, but better than the hard deck. So we brought our mats and pillows ashore and made nests for ourselves by the light of the blazing fires at which the students did their cooking. Of course they were as much delighted as ourselves to escape the night on board, and their presence lent human interest to the scene, as they gathered in picturesque groups round the fires, or knelt together in evening prayer. The night proved tolerably fine, only a few heavy showers, which shot off the rock just past our toes, so we were quite dry. And you know in these favoured isles we have no fear of snakes or other noxious creatures; so we slept in peace, knowing that nothing more hurtful than a wandering crab could possibly assail us, and that he would run off in great fear the moment he discovered what strange beings had invaded his isle.

Once more we embarked at dawn, and the wind blew us straight to this port, which I exceedingly longed to see, but our destination was Taviuni; so, much to my disgust, we tacked with the intention of crossing thither. For several hours we battled with the breeze—weary hours of tossing and sickness. We lost our main-topmast; and at last, finding that the wind had driven us back to this desired haven, it was resolved that the Langhams and myself should come ashore, and the vessel go on to Taviuni with such of the party as were thither bound, and return for us. So an hour later I found myself under this hospitable roof; but the Langhams make it a rule always to live in native towns, in order to be amongst the people. How I do revel in a fresh clean room all to myself, and abundance of new milk and scones!

This place has a special interest on account of its boiling springs,—not that they are striking in themselves, but because there are so few places in the group where any trace of such phenomena is found. I have seen no other boiling springs except those at Ngau, but I hear there are some at Loma Loma, and there is a hot stream in Viti Levu called Wai Mbasanga. Here, too, occasional shocks of earthquake suggest that volcanic action is only dormant and may reawaken some day. The springs are quite boiling, but (as was the case of those we saw on the isle of Ngau) a stream of cold water flows close to them, and the people save themselves the trouble of getting firewood by boiling all their food in the springs. They take their crabs, bunches of bananas, yams or _taro_, wrap them up in banana-leaves and deposit them in the boiling spring; then they go and bathe some way off where the hot and cold streams have mixed, and return to find their dinner ready cooked. The water tastes utterly disgusting and very salt, but the food boiled in it is excellent; and the people who bathe here are free from many diseases. There are springs all along the shore for half a mile, just at high-water mark. The three principal ones bubble up in a circle like a small crater. They are intermittent, and the highest makes a fountain about two or three feet high. There used to be about fifteen springs in this circle, and the people came from far and near to cook their food, especially if they had any _bodies_ to boil. But in 1863 Tui Wainoonoo, a neighbouring chief, came and besieged the large strongly fortified town of Eroi further up the lake. He could not take it, and raised the siege just when the defenders were reduced to starvation, having only a few lemons for food. He, however, captured sixteen men, and Ramasi-Alewa, the old lady to whom the springs belonged. She was past seventy, and must have been very tough and smoke-dried; but as in her young days she had been a regular Joan of Arc, leading her tribe to battle, and herself fighting hand to hand with a hatchet, he determined to eat her. So he had her cooked with the sixteen men, and made a great feast; and then, to spite the people, before leaving the district, he attempted to choke up all the springs—in which amiable effort he partially succeeded.

These springs were also a favourite place for depositing all superfluous babies, especially girls, who never got much of a welcome. They were popped in alive like so many lobsters, and treated with quite as little ceremony. I am told that there is an intermittent cold spring on a conical hill on the opposite side of the harbour. Some of the hot springs bubble up through the salt water below high-water mark.[39]

I think Savu Savu is about the prettiest place I have yet seen. The harbour is so entirely enclosed by great hills that it is simply a salt lake, dotted with many isles, all richly wooded—too richly, for they are in consequence haunted by a plague of mosquitoes. Dr Mayo, who, you will remember, was one of our party coming out, has such a conviction that the hot springs will become important in course of time, that he has bought one of these pretty islands and built himself a house on it. It is not yet finished, and he is obliged to live at Khandavu as quarantine medical officer, much to his disgust, as his object in coming to Fiji was the hope of gaining large experience of native races. He brought out as his assistant a college servant, who lives by himself on the island and takes great charge of everything. I have just been across to see the unfinished house and tastefully planned shrubberies of foreign plants; but the island is infested by hordes of such vicious mosquitoes that I was fairly driven away.

Of course we have made expeditions to all parts of the lovely lake, beginning with the native town of Eroi, to see the fortified hill which was so bravely defended. It is surrounded by very deep ditches, and only accessible by a very narrow path overgrown with dense vines. The thatched roofs of the village are half hidden by tall bananas and scarlet hybiscus, orange and lemon trees: the latter are of the prickly sort, which was planted near many fortifications as a natural defence. Another day we sailed across the bay to visit friends who there own a large plantation. Here we saw something of sugar-growing, sugar-crushing, and rum-distilling; also fields of splendid pine-apples—by far the finest we have seen in the isles. Turtles and pine-apples in abundance sound well, do they not? But I fear they do not compensate for lack of beef and mutton, and many another ordinary comfort.

I find that Captain Barrack is just sending a little schooner across to Levuka, so I shall despatch this long journal to catch the mail. I only wish it might give any of you a thousandth part of the amusement which I have derived from the actual trip, notwithstanding all the discomforts.—Your loving sister.