CHAPTER XX.

NASOVA—THE MOUNTAIN WAR—A YEAR’S PROGRESS—FIJIAN HOMAGE.

NASOVA, _August 24, 1876_.

DEAREST EISA,—Here I am once more safely back from a long cruise in the wilds, of which I have sent a full account to Jean. Our last halt was at Savu Savu—a lovely bay, which I left with great regret, resisting several cordial invitations to visit kind neighbours there. We started yesterday morning at dawn, but found the sails needed some repairs; so we waited five hours at the mouth of the harbour, and whiled away the time by inspecting the old buildings and machinery of a deserted plantation—the heavy cocoa-nut crushers and other expensive plant, now standing idle and useless—always a pitiful sight.

We embarked in the afternoon and had a head-wind, which has been our evil fortune for every bit of open sea we have had on this cruise. Verily I am sick of sailing vessels! We had a wretched night—tossing about and lying on the very hard deck not venturing to unfasten pillows or plaids, from momentary expectation of shipping seas and downpours of rain. I confess it made me wish many times that I had stayed at the head of exquisite Savu Savu bay, which, they say, scarcely shows a ripple even when a hurricane sweeps the land. At daybreak this morning we were off the isle of Koro, and arrived here about breakfast-time to find that Lady Gordon and the children are at Suva, and that Arthur Gordon has returned from the mountain-war very seriously ill—from gastric, or maybe typhoid, fever. The war itself has just been brought to a very satisfactory conclusion, marking one bright point in Fijian history—the first since annexation; and it has all been settled quietly, without any sort of fuss.

The Governor, Captain Knollys, Mr Maudslay, and Baron von Hügel, arrived last night. On their return from the mountains they had gone to Suva to see Lady Gordon, but were summoned here when Mr Gordon’s illness was found to be so serious. Happily, Mrs Abbey and her husband are both excellent nurses, and Abelak and the other Hindoo valet are most neat and patient attendants. Of course Dr Macgregor is here, and himself had the difficult task of conveying his patient all the way from the mountains, where the fever first developed itself, owing, we suppose, to exposure and want of proper food.

* * * * *

_Wednesday, Sept. 13._

Everything continues much as when I last wrote to you. Lady Gordon and the children are still at Suva, staying with Mrs Joski. Of course they must not return here just yet, though Mr Gordon is decidedly on the mend, and to day was able to walk into the drawing-room with slight help from Abbey; but he was very soon utterly tired out. Baron von Hügel is busy making an illustrated catalogue of his huge collection of Fijian _curios_, and I have been helping him a little, and also working up the sketches I got on my last cruise while they are still fresh in my mind. Our time on land was so cruelly short in proportion to that which we spent in misery on the sea, that I generally had to content myself with making very elaborate pencil-drawings with notes of colour, and these I am now working out.

A terribly sad thing has just happened here, and cast quite a gloom over the town. Do you remember my telling you, just after our arrival here, of the marriage of a very popular girl to a young planter? A few days ago she became a happy mother, and all seemed well; but things went wrong, and she died yesterday. Her husband, supposing all danger to be over, had gone on business to another isle, and returned by the steamer this morning. All the flags in harbour and in the town were hung half mast during the funeral; and when the captain hailed the nearest vessel to ask who was dead, the poor fellow heard his wife’s name shouted back in answer.

I have just been to see Mrs Macgregor in her new house. She is the only one of all our sisterhood of last year still remaining in Fiji. Her new house is, unfortunately, a good deal further from Nasova than the one she has hitherto had; but it is convenient for the Doctor, being close to the pretty little hospital, which is generally very full. I am sure you will be amused to hear that the Doctor has enlisted my services in quite a new branch of art. He is busy studying some curious skin diseases peculiar to certain of the imported labour, which gives the patient the appearance of being clad in moiré-antique, with a white watered pattern on a dark ground. Of these patterns he has made various rough drawings, which he has now set me to elaborate.

* * * * *

_September 16._

Colonel Pratt has just been here to call, looking very ill. He has had a long spell of work at Suva with his Engineers, getting the land surveyed and the new road begun, which involves being out a great deal in a blazing sun, and is exceedingly trying.

Sir Arthur rejoined Lady Gordon at Suva in the beginning of the month, Captain Knollys escorting him. The latter returned here two days ago, in a deluge of rain, having been four days coming from Suva, beating against a head-wind. Of course his boat was only provisioned fully for one day, so he and his men had very short commons for the last three days.

Mr Gordon continues to improve very slowly, but we hope surely. The Doctor says that so soon as he can be moved, he must go to New Zealand for change of air. Our parson, Mr Floyd, is also going there next week.

* * * * *

_September 22._

Last Monday Captain Knollys started for Suva, in the Governor’s beautiful new barge, which is a very handsome yet simple sixteen-oar boat, built for him in Sydney. It was built on the principle of the landlord who charged one of the Georges a guinea for a fresh egg,—not because eggs were scarce, but because kings are so. In this instance Fijian governors are scarce; and so, having ordered a boat worth about £300, Sir Arthur is justly indignant at receiving one charged £750, and apparently he can get no redress. Rather too hard, considering how scarce money is in this colony.

The barge returned last night, bringing Sir Arthur and Lady Gordon and the children, who look all the better for their change of air. This house is really beginning to look quite cosy and home-like, and we all quite enjoy coming back to it from our various wanderings. Nevertheless I am already preparing for another start, as Captain Knollys offers me the loan of his nice new boat (his yacht, we call it); and it seems a good opportunity of paying my long-talked-of visit to Mrs Leefe at Nananu. So, if all is well, my next letter will be from her house.

* * * * *

WAR LETTER.

NASOVA, _September 12, 1876_.

DEAR GEORGE,—You ask for some details of the war with the mountain tribes. I wish you were here to hear about it yourself from Captain Knollys and Dr Macgregor, who have been giving me most thrilling accounts of some of their adventures.

Mr Gordon got through his work sooner than the others, and returned here on the 3d of July, apparently in perfect health, and in very high spirits. He then returned to the seat of war, and joined Captain Knollys in the mountains, where they had some very rough and exhausting work in routing the enemy out of caves where they had taken refuge. This was satisfactorily done, and then, what with bad and insufficient food, and exposure, Mr Gordon utterly broke down: he had to be carried all the way to the coast,—four days’ very difficult march up and down steep mountain-paths, crossing and recrossing rivers and streams, and enduring great hardships. On the second day they were compelled to march thirty-six miles, and had to cross streams thirty-one times, &c., the Singatoko river eighteen times, and another stream thirteen times,—very exhausting and difficult work. At last a small steamer arrived to bring back the troops; and so he was brought here, and has ever since been very dangerously ill with low typhoid fever. However, he is now beginning to mend, and we hope ere long to see him as well as ever.

Well now, to tell you as far as I can in detail. You know that soon after annexation, when the mountain tribes were only half inclined to accept English rule, and still less friendly to the _lotu_ (Christianity), the isles were swept by the terrible scourge of measles, which they assumed to be a judgment from their insulted gods. They therefore “threw off the cloth,” which is a formula for expressing that, by returning to total nakedness, they utterly defy the _matanitu_ or Government, and the _lotu_: they also allowed their hair to grow to the fullest-sized mop; and having thus resumed the part of heathen warriors or _tevoro_—_i.e._, devils—they proceeded, on April 12, 1876, to attack and burn the Christian villages of Nandi and Nandronga, and ate sundry women. They also attacked several Christian villages on the banks of the Singatoko river; but here the marauders were repulsed, and their own villages burned. They then attacked a village in the mountains, the people of which were Christians, and had supplied food to the Government forces. The villagers, old men, women, and children, took refuge in a cave, where the cannibals soon followed, guarding the entrances, and firing on them at intervals during the night. In the morning a party of friendly natives and police (or, as the people still call them, _sotiers_—_i.e._, soldiers) came to the rescue, and routed the _tevoro_.

Sir Arthur was from the beginning anxious to avoid anything like a collision between white men and brown, and was therefore determined, if possible, to treat this disturbance as a police question, without requiring any aid from English troops. He was confident, moreover, that with the assistance of friendly chiefs, the matter could be satisfactorily settled, and that, too, at very small cost, before troops could even arrive from the colonies or elsewhere; so he resolved to dispense with all red tape—an article which only appeared on the scene once, and that in a rarely useful capacity, when Mr Maudslay, sorely puzzled how the Governor’s body-guard could carry their ammunition, being clad in short kilts, with neither pockets nor belts, instructed them how to make belts with bits of canvas, sewed with red tape, which was happily found in the Governor’s despatch-box. That was on a special occasion, when Sir Arthur (determined to see everything for himself) insisted on visiting the mountains in person, accompanied by Mr Maudslay. Before starting on a march of some danger, it occurred to Mr Maudslay to examine the arms of the guard. They consisted of most rotten old muskets. He says he carefully avoided firing one himself, but happily no accident occurred in testing them.

It certainly is a marvel that no lives were lost from the use of such weapons—rusty old flint-lock or percussion-cap muskets, which had been lying by in store for many years, all more or less decayed: and these were in the hands of men accustomed to wield only spears and clubs. I think Captain Knollys’ force had only twenty Snider rifles, and a scanty supply of ammunition for even these, which were the backbone of the force. As to the old Tower muskets, some even of those selected as being the best, proved useless on reaching fighting-ground. A considerable amount of tiring was always necessary to clear the bush round any place where they encamped, to frighten lurking foes.

When it was found that a collision with the Kai Tholos was inevitable, Sir Arthur sent to all the friendly chiefs to ask each for a small detachment of picked men. Double or treble the number asked for were sent, and a magnificent body of men was thus mustered, all eager for the fray. One body of 150 men from Bau came to Nasova to report themselves to the Governor before starting for the seat of war. All had their faces blackened to prevent the sun from blistering them—and savage indeed is the effect of this hideous cosmetic. They were almost all dressed alike in drapery of white _tappa_, and the _liku_ (fringe kilt) of black glossy water-weed, like horse-hair: they had streamers of _tappa_ floating from their arms and head. All were armed with old Tower muskets. They marched on to the _rara_—the green lawn before the house—and there performed the wildest devil _méké_, ending with unearthly yells. It was a very striking scene. Then they advanced, two or three at a time, throwing themselves into wild attitudes, brandishing their weapons, which formerly would have been spears or clubs, and trying who could make the most valiant boast concerning his intended prowess.[40] One cried, “I go to the mountains; my feet shall eat grass.” This was to express his eager speed. Another: “I long to be gone; I crave to meet the foe. You need not fear; here is your safeguard.” “This is only a musket,” cried another, flourishing his weapon; “but _I_ carry it.” Said the next: “We go to war, what hinders that we _fill all the ovens_?” (I fear that man hankered after the flesh-pots of Fiji!) Another, holding up his musket, cried, “This is the bridge over which you English shall pass into the mountains.” “Why do you white men cry out? _We_ go to the mountains, and will bruise even the rocks.” The second company came up stately, and only one acted spokesman. “This is Bau, that is enough.” Others gambolled about, extolling their (imaginary) club by name, as in olden days. When each had had his say, one advanced with a green twig, which he laid at the feet of the Governor’s native aide-de-camp. Then Mr Wilkinson made a little speech for the Governor, and a gift of symbolical whales’ teeth, which the messenger received crouching, and carried them to the corps, who also crouched low to receive them. Two huge turtles and other good food were then given, that they might feast before re-embarking on the Government steamer which carried them to the seat of war.

Nearly the whole force of native police had already been despatched to the mountains, where a permanent camp had for some time been established at Nasauthoko, on the Singatoko river, in the western half of Viti Levu. Mr Gordon did a sketch of this camp, showing two circular camps, each containing about a dozen native houses inside a fence of reeds on an earthen wall, then a ditch, and a second and third palisade. This stands on a small piece of level ground, about 2000 feet above the sea, and surrounded by hills of about 5000 feet. Round this the police force had made large gardens, extending to the river, where they raise yam, _taro_, and bananas for food.

The Governor appointed Captain Knollys commander-in-chief of the police and all these irregular forces, with Mr Gordon and Mr Le Hunte as sub-generals. Messrs Carew, Wilkinson, and Hefferman accompanied them as interpreters, being all men thoroughly acquainted with the chiefs and the people. Dr Macgregor was surgeon to the forces. The little army was divided into three bodies, whose common object was to prevent the enemy from reaching the great forests near the Singatoko, where they would have been very dangerous neighbours to the Christian tribes, and very difficult to dislodge.

The contingent of which Mr Gordon had command, consisted of 1200 undisciplined undrilled men of different tribes, each accustomed to render implicit obedience to their own chief only; and all those chiefs were jealous one of another, and always on the alert to scent out slights. Mr Gordon says his principal work consisted not so much in ordering details of fighting, as in taking a general direction, and preserving friendly relations between these chiefs, and smoothing their suspicions one of another. His task was rapidly and successfully accomplished. After sundry strongholds had been stormed and captured, several villages burned, and a considerable number of firearms seized, the cannibal tribes on the Singatoko surrendered, and 848 prisoners were taken. Of these, thirty-seven were known murderers, and were tried as such; thirty-five were found guilty, and of these, fourteen were summarily and most deservedly executed—the Governor being present to sanction the proceedings, and confirm the sentences: nine were shot and five hung. Their mode of death was regulated by the degree of their guilt, the worst criminals being accounted those who were actually receiving pay from the English Government, at the same time as they were in league with the cannibals. The prisoners were all distributed among friendly villages, where for a while they will have to work as labourers, till it is judged safe to let them return to their own districts. Once they have yielded themselves prisoners, they never dream of escaping—that would be contrary to the Fijian code of honour; so they merely require a nominal guard. This was in the latter part of June.

Meanwhile Captain Knollys was greatly astonishing the foe in his district by sparing their growing crops, which was quite a new idea in Fijian warfare (where hitherto the first aim of an enemy had been to ravage the land, cut down the bread-fruit and banana trees, and burn the villages). He says the people at one place, Nambutautau, fortified their town by digging pit-falls in the long grass, and in these they placed sharp-pointed, bamboos, ready to impale the unwary! The mountain-towns are perched in all sorts of nooks, among great boulders of rock, or hidden in clumps of bushes, or in cliffs of the rock. It is a country fortified by nature, having precipitous crags honeycombed with caves, and clothed with dense forest. The natives throw up earth-works and bamboo fences further to strengthen their intrenchments. Sundry of these rock-fortresses were places of very great strength, but were nevertheless surprised and captured.

I think Mr Le Hunte was chiefly in charge of the camp at Nasauthoko, which was a less exciting post, but one equally essential to the success of the whole.

About July 10th, Captain Knollys learnt that a party of the cannibals had retreated to a certain valley. Dr Macgregor was with him, and they started in pursuit with about 200 men. They halted for supper, then waited till the moon rose—the men whiling away the time with quaint boasting, such as I have already described. Then came a difficult night-march through the forest, crossing streams and deep gorges. At daybreak they reached the Naindua caves, where huge boulders of conglomerate rock have fallen in, so as effectually to conceal the entrance. The whole valley is a network of caves, with a river flowing at the bottom of the gorge. The _tevoro_ (devils) were firing from many hidden crevices, their presence only betrayed by an occasional puff of smoke. They were, however, driven out, and ten men and sixty women and children captured. It was found that some of the worst men had only returned from Levuka a couple of weeks previously. They had been working for white men on a plantation in Taviuni, so that process does not appear to be necessarily an improving one.

A nicely roasted human leg was lying on a mat, with cooked _taro_, neatly laid out for breakfast for the devil priest, or rather priest of the _vatu kalou_—_i.e._, war-god. This old _bete_—_i.e._, priest—was hideous to look upon,—a noted cannibal and excessive drinker of _yangona_, the result of which was that his skin was whitish, and he had become a sort of albino. Very disgusting he was, and yet his devotion to his son, a sickly lad, was so pathetic, that his captors were really touched by it. He was taken in the act of escaping from his appetising breakfast, which he doubtless sorely regretted, and which received decent burial.

In the promiscuous firing that followed, several wounded men fell over the cliffs into the river. As a party retreated, routed, one man, thinking himself beyond the reach of fire, could not resist a little bravado, and coming to a dead halt, he proceeded, with all the dandyism of a feast-day, to arrange the long folds of white _tappa_ which floated in airy drapery, while he waved his great war-fan and challenged the foe, _Vaka viti_ (Fiji fashion), to come and be eaten, and he would roast them all. Dr Macgregor took a deliberate aim with his Snider rifle at 600 yards, and, greatly to his own amazement, hit the astonished man, who fled wounded in the left arm. A week later he was captured, and became great friends with the Doctor, who naturally took especial interest in healing the wounds of his own production.

The Doctor’s work has greatly astonished the cannibals, who marvel to see a man tending and healing his foes. He has taught them a new name for his profession, declaring himself much aggrieved at being called “carpenter of death,” when he is truly a “man of life;” so the Fijian dictionary owes him a new word. He performed one very difficult operation quite alone, in presence of a wondering crowd. It was necessary to amputate the leg of one of the prisoners, so he made such preparations as were possible, and commenced operations, when, as he was in the act of administering chloroform (_wai ni mothe_, the water of sleep), he perceived that his assistant was quite drunk. It was necessary to have him at once forcibly removed, and the only other white man in the place was Mr Gordon, who was very ill with fever. So here he found himself alone with the patient under chloroform, surrounded by a great circle of wild auxiliary tribes, all well accustomed to cut up human limbs for the larder, but wholly unable to understand the present proceeding. It was a difficult position. The operation must be performed, or certain death was inevitable; so he proceeded with a most difficult task, which happily proved quite successful, and the amazement of the spectators knew no bounds. The grateful patient, on recovering, demanded that the Doctor, who had deprived him of a leg, should supply a new one, and insisted on his keeping him into the bargain![41]

One very sad incident in the cave-warfare was the death of a poor little girl aged seven, who was accidentally shot through the heart.

The next places from which the foe had to be dislodged were the Naquaquatambua caves, which are a nest of large caves round a deep hollow—naturally a very strong post, and further fortified by the inmates. The entrance to the principal cave is by a cleft in the rock, not more than six feet wide, though perhaps twenty in height, and well concealed by the network of roots of a great _Mbaka_ (Fiji banyan), the interstices of the roots being filled up with rock-work, so as to form an outer wall, with loop-holes, through which to fire at assailants. Within is a large high cave in which were stored guns, ammunition, and provisions—yams, pigs, and _yangona_; while in an inner cave, beside a stream of water, were enormous stores of yams, whales’ teeth, _masi_, abundant firewood, and all things needful to hold out for a long siege. From the principal cave low passages lead to other caves, and these again have outlets; and all these were carefully concealed and well fortified: some could only be entered on hands and knees.

Altogether the post was one which might have been held for ever, and when first the little Christian army was descried, on the hill facing them, the _tevoro_ amused themselves by a little of the usual boasting; but it seems their hearts failed them, for ere long a chief came out with a _soro_ (_i.e._, an atonement offering). This was refused, so he returned to the cave, and presently reappeared at the head of twenty-four men, vowing that only the women and one old man remained within. However, there was reason to believe that there were many more, and Captain Knollys explored as far as he dared venture; but as many of the caves could only be approached by crawling on hands and knees through low passages, and as the enemy occasionally fired from hidden openings, it was necessary to wait in patience. At last one man, who said he was the chief of the caves, declared he would come out in the morning, but not till then. Captain Knollys told him he must not come out, whereupon, from sheer spirit of opposition, out he came!

A friendly chief, called Rovobokolo, was appointed to guard one cave full of people. He did so for two days and nights, but did not at all appreciate being fired at by unseen foes; so by a happy inspiration he suddenly cried out to bid them escape for their lives, as the _sotiers_ (soldiers) had effected an entrance, and were about to fire into them. This was a pure romance, but it had the desired effect of bringing the foe to light. Forthwith they rushed out, and were of course taken prisoners—in all sixty-one men, and a great many women and children.

There still remained a third set of caves at Nunuwai. It was, I think, on the 23d of July that the besieging force reached them. They lie along the bed of a stream, in a deep gulch, heavily wooded, quite filled up by great boulders fallen from above, and forming caves, only to be reached by crawling through crevices. These are innumerable, each forming a loop-hole through which a hidden foe could safely fire out upon assailants; consequently several of these were killed, only discovering their danger by a sudden flash from some hidden loop-hole. It was just as unpleasant a place to have to storm as you can possibly imagine.

Happily the _tevoro_ appeared to be divided in their own minds, and, after much parley, one party agreed to surrender, but wished to bring their women with them—and these were in an inner cave, which could only be reached by diving through the water, under a rock, but each time their heads rose from the water the non-surrender party received them with levelled guns. They then expressed their determination to die in the caves, but after two days Captain Knollys hit on the odd expedient of enlisting some of the prisoners already taken as his allies, by promising them easier terms than they had any right to expect. So these entered the caves, and held long parley with the besieged, persuading about half of them to surrender. As the remainder still held out, they took up their quarters in the cave for the night, and amused themselves by blowing a war-shell, which so affected the delicate nerves of the _tevoro_ that they craved permission to come out—a permission which was withheld till morning, in order to enhance its value. Amongst other relics, Captain Knollys found the bones of one of his scouts, who had been killed some time previously: he had been cooked and his bones picked clean. About fifty men were here captured, and the most grievous criminals having been tried again in presence of the Governor, six were most deservedly executed, and the rest condemned to various terms of imprisonment or servitude in the villages of the allies, where they are sure of very kind treatment.

Of course the judicial part of this business was the most trying to all concerned; but for once, I believe that all parties here are of one mind in agreeing that the executions were positively necessary, and a most wise measure. In every instance the man executed was either a notorious murderer of the worst type, or else a deserter from Government service, actually drawing Government pay. It is believed that this example once set will deter future malcontents from trying this little game again, and that much bloodshed will thus be averted, and a source of perpetual danger entirely extinguished. On the other hand, the leniency shown to the mass of the prisoners, the care of the wounded by skilled hands, with all medical appliances, are a wholly new, and to them incomprehensible, phase of British warfare.

Our people (the Christians) were wonderfully quick in practising the mercy commanded; and though they keep up the old wild dances and songs round the body of each fallen foe as they bring him in, there has been no tendency to make a _bokolo_ of him, except in one instance, when one of the wildest of the friendly tribes (our allies) brought to Captain Knollys’ camp the body of a hostile chief just slain, and after much palaver (being very hungry) craved permission to eat him. Of course this was peremptorily refused, and immediate burial ordered. But when Captain Knollys sent a company of his own men in the morning to see that it had been done properly, they found the body barely a foot deep, which allowed room for just a suspicion that some hungry men were waiting for a convenient season to dig it up. Of course the foe had no scruples on the subject, and I fear they had several hearty meals at the expense of the assailants.

It is fortunate they did not find out how short of provisions the besiegers were, for at one time their commissariat was at such a low ebb that for two whole days they had nothing to eat but a few taro-tops which they had the good luck to find—taro-tops being something like old turnip-tops and leaves. This, while the enemy had abundant stores of provisions! It is wonderful too, that, intrenched as they were in a series of positions, each of which was practically impregnable, they should have yielded so readily; and marvellously fortunate, too, that so few of their stray shots should have done any damage. The only white man touched was Dr Macgregor, who received a slight wound near the corner of the eye, which happily was not serious.

There have been many most picturesque incidents in this little war. To begin with, there is the way in which the warriors march to battle, as if going to a dance, with scouts running on ahead of them fluttering large grass or palm-leaf fans, adorned with long streamers or ribbons like a Highlander’s bagpipes, only made of native cloth. With these they pretend to sweep away any hidden foes who may be lying in ambush.

Then, too, is it not wonderful to think of what a war in this country has hitherto meant, and the appalling horrors involved? And now to think that, among all these so-called savage warriors, none should have in any way brought discredit on their character of chivalrous Christian soldiers. On the contrary, each body of men brought its own chaplain; and in all the excitement of a struggle with hereditary foes, which but a few years ago would have been a scene of horror and revolting bloodshed and crime, the camps were kept free from taint.

It savours rather of an army of Puritans to know that every morning, at the very first streak of dawn, each separate tribe composing that little army mustered in array to join the teacher in saying the Lord’s Prayer, and a short prayer suited to the requirements of the day. And every evening, after the excitement of the day was over, each house separately had reading of the Scriptures, singing, and prayer; and every man in the force knelt as reverently as he would have done at family worship in his peaceful village home. I wonder of how many so-called civilised armies all this could be said?

But to return to the caves. The last had scarcely been captured when Mr Gordon became utterly prostrate from what has proved to be a very serious attack of low typhoid fever. I told you he had been here for a few days after finishing work in his own district, and before proceeding to join Captain Knollys; and we think he must have contracted it here, as there have been several bad cases of the same type, and at least two men have died of it, including the builder of this house. The caves were right in the interior of Viti Levu; and as I mentioned to you, the return march was fearfully trying, both for a sick man and those in charge of him—Fijian mountain paths being pretty severe work for the strongest man. Happily Dr Macgregor was able to be in close attendance.

To make matters worse, they had literally nothing that he could eat. The Doctor thought he had secured a prize in an old hen belonging to a teacher, but the owner begged she might be spared, as she was “giving milk”—a striking discovery in ornithology! But it seems this is the Fijian equivalent for _laying_. I suppose that as cows and hens are both imported animals, it was assumed that the same term would be equally expressive. But the teacher promised to bring some excellent eggs to make flip, and soon returned with a dozen. On the first being cracked a fine chicken appeared,—so _that_ was not of much use! At last they readied the coast, where a hospitable planter took care of the patient till a steamer, specially chartered for the occasion, arrived to take away most of the troops and about a hundred of the worst prisoners, who are to have a turn of hard work for their country’s good.

The said steamer is one hired temporarily from New Zealand; but the luckless Government steamer Fitzroy, which was bought for £7000 when we came here, ran on to a coral-reef last month, and is a total wreck,—another bit of ill-luck for this poverty-stricken land. Her captain was the steadiest and most experienced man in the group, so it is a good proof of what dangerous navigation this is.

Here Mr Gordon found an empty house, save for the presence of Mr and Mrs Abbey, the excellent major-domo and his admirable wife, who have nursed him with tenderest devotion, and are now rewarded by seeing him steadily amending. But for some days he was so very ill that an express was sent to Suva, in Viti Levu, to summon the Governor, who, with Captain Knollys and Baron von Hügel, had gone there, on their way back, to see Lady Gordon and her children, who are staying there for change of air.

Just at this moment, I, knowing nothing of all this, returned unexpectedly from a three weeks’ cruise round Vanua Levu with my friends the Langhams, with whom I have now travelled for thirteen weeks in districts which otherwise would have been to me wholly inaccessible. But I have not time now to tell you anything about our cruise, so you must be content with this letter for the present. I forgot to tell you that we have a new inmate in the house—a remarkably nice young cannibal. His father is one of the worst cannibal chiefs captured by Captain Knollys, to whom both father and son have quite a romantic attachment!

_Note._—On the 28th October 1876 the Governor issued a proclamation of free pardon to all the mountain-tribes who had fought against Government, granting free permission to all who had been carried as prisoners to other districts, and to those who might still be concealed in the bush or in caves, to return to their own districts, and rebuild their towns and cultivate their lands, only stipulating that the fortified places must not be reoccupied, but that sites should be selected more suitable to the peaceful inhabitants of a quiet land. Even at the date of this proclamation, he found that the disturbed districts were assuming an aspect of security and civilisation hitherto undreamt of. New towns were rapidly springing up by the rivers and in the plains, and cultivation was carried on in perfect security, in places which hitherto could not be worked at all, or only by armed men. Formerly constant distrust reigned between the different tribes—especially between the Christians and heathens; and not without good cause, as four hundred inhabitants of one Christian town had been treacherously clubbed by their heathen neighbours, having been induced by false pretences to leave their town. Now the wild tribes had all adopted the kilt of native cloth, and cut their hair to a reasonable length—sure proofs of general respectability. They had also welcomed the native Christian teachers, who had come to live in almost every village.

A year later—October 1877—Sir Arthur Gordon revisited these districts. He found satisfactory progress everywhere—the people devoting their energies to agriculture instead of war—all, nominally at least, Christians; good new villages; good riding-paths (one forty miles in length from the coast to the permanent headquarters of native police at Fort Carnarvon); and these, though of purely native construction, were led by easy gradients along the hillsides, instead of following the steepest ridges, according to Fijian custom. Everywhere peace, order, and plenty prevailed. He was especially pleased to find one of the _tevoro_ chiefs, whom he had pardoned when under sentence of death (causing him to place his hands in his and swear fealty), now a useful and zealous officer of the Government. At Fort Carnarvon, about a thousand representatives of the wild tribes assembled to meet him and hear his words; and several hundred school-children, from the neighbouring villages, gathered together for one of their picturesque school-examinations. A large proportion of the children could read and write well—a most satisfactory result of one year’s tuition. According to invariable custom, the school-examination was enlivened by many of the wild, but often graceful and poetic, _mékés_—_i.e._, descriptive songs and dances. After several spear-dances, and one descriptive of a cow protecting her calf, and another of a hawk fluttering, came one which Sir Arthur thus describes in his private journal:—

“Nasaucoko fan _méké_. Nai kalukalu, the Stars. This was a very curious _méké_. Two circular enclosures of bamboo, about five feet high, were erected, within which two parties of dancers began to whirl round, waving white _masi_ fans over their heads. Gradually, one by one, they came out of the door of their enclosure opposite each other. This was the rising of the stars. They met, danced the usual sort of dance, and, at one part of it, threw away their fans. This was to represent the shooting-stars.”

On the following day he writes—

“_Thursday._—To-day Buli Nadrau and all his people came to do their homage. Very pretty they looked, coming over the hill in an interminable line. The old gentleman was tremendously weighted in his state-robes, which were only put on him by his attendants a few yards before he reached me, and were, after he had passed me, at once taken off again, and presented. _Six hundred feet_ and more of black (or rather grey) _masi_ were heaped on him, and that not in the shape of an enormous train, like Tui Cakau’s, but all draped and festooned over his person and head.

“_Friday._—Walked over to Korolevu, where I was received in a fashion which I have never seen elsewhere. The people were arranged in rows on each side of the _rara_. As I came into it, all the folks inclined their heads to the left shoulder, and, as I passed them, sank down into a slanting position to the left, like a row of nine-pins.... Most picturesque was the offering to me of the _magiti_ (feast), by moonlight, as I sat on the marble steps of the old _buré_ (devil temple), destroyed long ago. Most striking too was the scene in the village afterwards,—each household grouped in front of its own door, and later the sound of prayers from the various houses. Every one of the people here was, last year, a prisoner. Later I strolled up and down by myself alone, but in perfect security.... From one house I heard the voices of a number of women repeating the Lord’s Prayer. What a change from last year, when there was nothing here but heaps of ashes!”