CHAPTER III--AROUND OUR HOUSE
When we left the palace we were still but seafarers ashore; and
within the hour we had installed our goods in one of the six
foreign houses of Butaritari, namely, that usually occupied by
Maka, the Hawaiian missionary. Two San Francisco firms are here
established, Messrs. Crawford and Messrs. Wightman Brothers; the
first hard by the palace of the mid town, the second at the north
entry; each with a store and bar-room. Our house was in the
Wightman compound, betwixt the store and bar, within a fenced
enclosure. Across the road a few native houses nestled in the
margin of the bush, and the green wall of palms rose solid,
shutting out the breeze. A little sandy cove of the lagoon ran in
behind, sheltered by a verandah pier, the labour of queens' hands.
Here, when the tide was high, sailed boats lay to be loaded; when
the tide was low, the boats took ground some half a mile away, and
an endless series of natives descended the pier stair, tailed
across the sand in strings and clusters, waded to the waist with
the bags of copra, and loitered backward to renew their charge.
The mystery of the copra trade tormented me, as I sat and watched
the profits drip on the stair and the sands.
In front, from shortly after four in the morning until nine at
night, the folk of the town streamed by us intermittingly along the
road: families going up the island to make copra on their lands;
women bound for the bush to gather flowers against the evening
toilet; and, twice a day, the toddy-cutters, each with his knife
and shell. In the first grey of the morning, and again late in the
afternoon, these would straggle past about their tree-top business,
strike off here and there into the bush, and vanish from the face
of the earth. At about the same hour, if the tide be low in the
lagoon, you are likely to be bound yourself across the island for a
bath, and may enter close at their heels alleys of the palm wood.
Right in front, although the sun is not yet risen, the east is
already lighted with preparatory fires, and the huge accumulations
of the trade-wind cloud glow with and heliograph the coming day.
The breeze is in your face; overhead in the tops of the palms, its
playthings, it maintains a lively bustle; look where you will,
above or below, there is no human presence, only the earth and
shaken forest. And right overhead the song of an invisible singer
breaks from the thick leaves; from farther on a second tree-top
answers; and beyond again, in the bosom of the woods, a still more
distant minstrel perches and sways and sings. So, all round the
isle, the toddy-cutters sit on high, and are rocked by the trade,
and have a view far to seaward, where they keep watch for sails,
and like huge birds utter their songs in the morning. They sing
with a certain lustiness and Bacchic glee; the volume of sound and
the articulate melody fall unexpected from the tree-top, whence we
anticipate the chattering of fowls. And yet in a sense these songs
also are but chatter; the words are ancient, obsolete, and sacred;
few comprehend them, perhaps no one perfectly; but it was
understood the cutters 'prayed to have good toddy, and sang of
their old wars.' The prayer is at least answered; and when the
foaming shell is brought to your door, you have a beverage well
'worthy of a grace.' All forenoon you may return and taste; it
only sparkles, and sharpens, and grows to be a new drink, not less
delicious; but with the progress of the day the fermentation
quickens and grows acid; in twelve hours it will be yeast for
bread, in two days more a devilish intoxicant, the counsellor of
crime.
The men are of a marked Arabian cast of features, often bearded and
mustached, often gaily dressed, some with bracelets and anklets,
all stalking hidalgo-like, and accepting salutations with a haughty
lip. The hair (with the dandies of either sex) is worn turban-wise
in a frizzled bush; and like the daggers of the Japanese a pointed
stick (used for a comb) is thrust gallantly among the curls. The
women from this bush of hair look forth enticingly: the race
cannot be compared with the Tahitian for female beauty; I doubt
even if the average be high; but some of the prettiest girls, and
one of the handsomest women I ever saw, were Gilbertines.
Butaritari, being the commercial centre of the group, is
Europeanised; the coloured sacque or the white shift are common
wear, the latter for the evening; the trade hat, loaded with
flowers, fruit, and ribbons, is unfortunately not unknown; and the
characteristic female dress of the Gilberts no longer universal.
The ridi is its name: a cutty petticoat or fringe of the smoked
fibre of cocoa-nut leaf, not unlike tarry string: the lower edge
not reaching the mid-thigh, the upper adjusted so low upon the
haunches that it seems to cling by accident. A sneeze, you think,
and the lady must surely be left destitute. 'The perilous,
hairbreadth ridi' was our word for it; and in the conflict that
rages over women's dress it has the misfortune to please neither
side, the prudish condemning it as insufficient, the more frivolous
finding it unlovely in itself. Yet if a pretty Gilbertine would
look her best, that must be her costume. In that and naked
otherwise, she moves with an incomparable liberty and grace and
life, that marks the poetry of Micronesia. Bundle her in a gown,
the charm is fled, and she wriggles like an Englishwoman.
Towards dusk the passers-by became more gorgeous. The men broke
out in all the colours of the rainbow--or at least of the trade-
room,--and both men and women began to be adorned and scented with
new flowers. A small white blossom is the favourite, sometimes
sown singly in a woman's hair like little stars, now composed in a
thick wreath. With the night, the crowd sometimes thickened in the
road, and the padding and brushing of bare feet became continuous;
the promenades mostly grave, the silence only interrupted by some
giggling and scampering of girls; even the children quiet. At
nine, bed-time struck on a bell from the cathedral, and the life of
the town ceased. At four the next morning the signal is repeated
in the darkness, and the innocent prisoners set free; but for seven
hours all must lie--I was about to say within doors, of a place
where doors, and even walls, are an exception--housed, at least,
under their airy roofs and clustered in the tents of the mosquito-
nets. Suppose a necessary errand to occur, suppose it imperative
to send abroad, the messenger must then go openly, advertising
himself to the police with a huge brand of cocoa-nut, which flares
from house to house like a moving bonfire. Only the police
themselves go darkling, and grope in the night for misdemeanants.
I used to hate their treacherous presence; their captain in
particular, a crafty old man in white, lurked nightly about my
premises till I could have found it in my heart to beat him. But
the rogue was privileged.
Not one of the eleven resident traders came to town, no captain
cast anchor in the lagoon, but we saw him ere the hour was out.
This was owing to our position between the store and the bar--the
Sans Souci, as the last was called. Mr. Rick was not only Messrs.
Wightman's manager, but consular agent for the States; Mrs. Rick
was the only white woman on the island, and one of the only two in
the archipelago; their house besides, with its cool verandahs, its
bookshelves, its comfortable furniture, could not be rivalled
nearer than Jaluit or Honolulu. Every one called in consequence,
save such as might be prosecuting a South Sea quarrel, hingeing on
the price of copra and the odd cent, or perhaps a difference about
poultry. Even these, if they did not appear upon the north, would
be presently visible to the southward, the Sans Souci drawing them
as with cords. In an island with a total population of twelve
white persons, one of the two drinking-shops might seem
superfluous: but every bullet has its billet, and the double
accommodation of Butaritari is found in practice highly convenient
by the captains and the crews of ships: The Land we Live in being
tacitly resigned to the forecastle, the Sans Souci tacitly reserved
for the afterguard. So aristocratic were my habits, so commanding
was my fear of Mr. Williams, that I have never visited the first;
but in the other, which was the club or rather the casino of the
island, I regularly passed my evenings. It was small, but neatly
fitted, and at night (when the lamp was lit) sparkled with glass
and glowed with coloured pictures like a theatre at Christmas. The
pictures were advertisements, the glass coarse enough, the
carpentry amateur; but the effect, in that incongruous isle, was of
unbridled luxury and inestimable expense. Here songs were sung,
tales told, tricks performed, games played. The Ricks, ourselves,
Norwegian Tom the bar-keeper, a captain or two from the ships, and
perhaps three or four traders come down the island in their boats
or by the road on foot, made up the usual company. The traders,
all bred to the sea, take a humorous pride in their new business;
'South Sea Merchants' is the title they prefer. 'We are all
sailors here'--'Merchants, if you please'--'South Sea Merchants,'--
was a piece of conversation endlessly repeated, that never seemed
to lose in savour. We found them at all times simple, genial, gay,
gallant, and obliging; and, across some interval of time, recall
with pleasure the traders of Butaritari. There was one black sheep
indeed. I tell of him here where he lived, against my rule; for in
this case I have no measure to preserve, and the man is typical of
a class of ruffians that once disgraced the whole field of the
South Seas, and still linger in the rarely visited isles of
Micronesia. He had the name on the beach of 'a perfect gentleman
when sober,' but I never saw him otherwise than drunk. The few
shocking and savage traits of the Micronesian he has singled out
with the skill of a collector, and planted in the soil of his
original baseness. He has been accused and acquitted of a
treacherous murder; and has since boastfully owned it, which
inclines me to suppose him innocent. His daughter is defaced by
his erroneous cruelty, for it was his wife he had intended to
disfigure, and in the darkness of the night and the frenzy of coco-
brandy, fastened on the wrong victim. The wife has since fled and
harbours in the bush with natives; and the husband still demands
from deaf ears her forcible restoration. The best of his business
is to make natives drink, and then advance the money for the fine
upon a lucrative mortgage. 'Respect for whites' is the man's word:
'What is the matter with this island is the want of respect for
whites.' On his way to Butaritari, while I was there, he spied his
wife in the bush with certain natives and made a dash to capture
her; whereupon one of her companions drew a knife and the husband
retreated: 'Do you call that proper respect for whites?' he cried.
At an early stage of the acquaintance we proved our respect for his
kind of white by forbidding him our enclosure under pain of death.
Thenceforth he lingered often in the neighbourhood with I knew not
what sense of envy or design of mischief; his white, handsome face
(which I beheld with loathing) looked in upon us at all hours
across the fence; and once, from a safe distance, he avenged
himself by shouting a recondite island insult, to us quite
inoffensive, on his English lips incredibly incongruous.
Our enclosure, round which this composite of degradations wandered,
was of some extent. In one corner was a trellis with a long table
of rough boards. Here the Fourth of July feast had been held not
long before with memorable consequences, yet to be set forth; here
we took our meals; here entertained to a dinner the king and
notables of Makin. In the midst was the house, with a verandah
front and back, and three is rooms within. In the verandah we
slung our man-of-war hammocks, worked there by day, and slept at
night. Within were beds, chairs, a round table, a fine hanging
lamp, and portraits of the royal family of Hawaii. Queen Victoria
proves nothing; Kalakaua and Mrs. Bishop are diagnostic; and the
truth is we were the stealthy tenants of the parsonage. On the day
of our arrival Maka was away; faithless trustees unlocked his
doors; and the dear rigorous man, the sworn foe of liquor and
tobacco, returned to find his verandah littered with cigarettes and
his parlour horrible with bottles. He made but one condition--on
the round table, which he used in the celebration of the
sacraments, he begged us to refrain from setting liquor; in all
else he bowed to the accomplished fact, refused rent, retired
across the way into a native house, and, plying in his boat, beat
the remotest quarters of the isle for provender. He found us pigs-
-I could not fancy where--no other pigs were visible; he brought us
fowls and taro; when we gave our feast to the monarch and gentry,
it was he who supplied the wherewithal, he who superintended the
cooking, he who asked grace at table, and when the king's health
was proposed, he also started the cheering with an English hip-hip-
hip. There was never a more fortunate conception; the heart of the
fatted king exulted in his bosom at the sound.
Take him for all in all, I have never known a more engaging
creature than this parson of Butaritari: his mirth, his kindness,
his noble, friendly feelings, brimmed from the man in speech and
gesture. He loved to exaggerate, to act and overact the momentary
part, to exercise his lungs and muscles, and to speak and laugh
with his whole body. He had the morning cheerfulness of birds and
healthy children; and his humour was infectious. We were next
neighbours and met daily, yet our salutations lasted minutes at a
stretch--shaking hands, slapping shoulders, capering like a pair of
Merry-Andrews, laughing to split our sides upon some pleasantry
that would scarce raise a titter in an infant-school. It might be
five in the morning, the toddy-cutters just gone by, the road
empty, the shade of the island lying far on the lagoon: and the
ebullition cheered me for the day.
Yet I always suspected Maka of a secret melancholy--these jubilant
extremes could scarce be constantly maintained. He was besides
long, and lean, and lined, and corded, and a trifle grizzled; and
his Sabbath countenance was even saturnine. On that day we made a
procession to the church, or (as I must always call it) the
cathedral: Maka (a blot on the hot landscape) in tall hat, black
frock-coat, black trousers; under his arm the hymn-book and the
Bible; in his face, a reverent gravity:- beside him Mary his wife,
a quiet, wise, and handsome elderly lady, seriously attired:-
myself following with singular and moving thoughts. Long before,
to the sound of bells and streams and birds, through a green
Lothian glen, I had accompanied Sunday by Sunday a minister in
whose house I lodged; and the likeness, and the difference, and the
series of years and deaths, profoundly touched me. In the great,
dusky, palm-tree cathedral the congregation rarely numbered thirty:
the men on one side, the women on the other, myself posted (for a
privilege) amongst the women, and the small missionary contingent
gathered close around the platform, we were lost in that round
vault. The lessons were read antiphonally, the flock was
catechised, a blind youth repeated weekly a long string of psalms,
hymns were sung--I never heard worse singing,--and the sermon
followed. To say I understood nothing were untrue; there were
points that I learned to expect with certainty; the name of
Honolulu, that of Kalakaua, the word Cap'n-man-o'-wa', the word
ship, and a description of a storm at sea, infallibly occurred; and
I was not seldom rewarded with the name of my own Sovereign in the
bargain. The rest was but sound to the ears, silence for the mind:
a plain expanse of tedium, rendered unbearable by heat, a hard
chair, and the sight through the wide doors of the more happy
heathen on the green. Sleep breathed on my joints and eyelids,
sleep hummed in my ears; it reigned in the dim cathedral. The
congregation stirred and stretched; they moaned, they groaned
aloud; they yawned upon a singing note, as you may sometimes hear a
dog when he has reached the tragic bitterest of boredom. In vain
the preacher thumped the table; in vain he singled and addressed by
name particular hearers. I was myself perhaps a more effective
excitant; and at least to one old gentleman the spectacle of my
successful struggles against sleep--and I hope they were
successful--cheered the flight of time. He, when he was not
catching flies or playing tricks upon his neighbours, gloated with
a fixed, truculent eye upon the stages of my agony; and once, when
the service was drawing towards a close, he winked at me across the
church.
I write of the service with a smile; yet I was always there--always
with respect for Maka, always with admiration for his deep
seriousness, his burning energy, the fire of his roused eye, the
sincere and various accents of his voice. To see him weekly
flogging a dead horse and blowing a cold fire was a lesson in
fortitude and constancy. It may be a question whether if the
mission were fully supported, and he was set free from business
avocations, more might not result; I think otherwise myself; I
think not neglect but rigour has reduced his flock, that rigour
which has once provoked a revolution, and which to-day, in a man so
lively and engaging, amazes the beholder. No song, no dance, no
tobacco, no liquor, no alleviative of life--only toil and church-
going; so says a voice from his face; and the face is the face of
the Polynesian Esau, but the voice is the voice of a Jacob from a
different world. And a Polynesian at the best makes a singular
missionary in the Gilberts, coming from a country recklessly
unchaste to one conspicuously strict; from a race hag-ridden with
bogies to one comparatively bold against the terrors of the dark.
The thought was stamped one morning in my mind, when I chanced to
be abroad by moonlight, and saw all the town lightless, but the
lamp faithfully burning by the missionary's bed. It requires no
law, no fire, and no scouting police, to withhold Maka and his
countrymen from wandering in the night unlighted.
