Читать книгу Lolóma, or two years in cannibal-land - Henry Britton - Страница 7

CHAPTER III.
AN INHOSPITABLE RECEPTION.

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We were cast ashore on the coast of Viti Levu. It was not a desert island, but a land of tropical luxuriance, which supported 80,000 natives with very little labour; and these natives, as far as the coast tribes (the only part of the population the white man had any knowledge of) were concerned, were known to be the most bloodthirsty and treacherous savages in the world, who carried on heathen abominations to an extent unknown in any other part of the globe, while they were privileged to live on a portion of the earth’s surface which was marked by singular beauty.

The master and mate, who survived the wreck with me, had made a former visit to the sandalwood coast, and knew something of the language and ways of the natives, whose acquaintance with the white man was of comparatively recent date. The captain expressed the opinion that our prospects of escape from a cruel death were very small.

“The customs of this country,” said he, “oblige the natives to kill castaways. They look upon all such people—whom they describe as persons with ‘salt-water in their eyes’—as being delivered to them by the gods to be eaten, and if they neglected the practice they would be fearful of some terrible calamity befalling them.”

“To be killed and eaten,” added the mate, “is not the worst there is to fear, either. These wretches sometimes torture their helpless victims in a fiendish way. Only a year ago an English sailor, who had been hospitably received on one island, got wrecked on another in a canoe while endeavouring to reach a ship in the offing, and he had not the good fortune to be clubbed outright. His eyelids were cut away by the sharpened shell of the pearl-oyster, and he was then bound to a tree with his exposed orbs turned to the full glare of the sun. When the poor fellow was perfectly blind they skinned the soles of his feet, and then tormented him with firebrands to make him jump about in that wretched condition.”

For the present we were safe, however. The hurricane and the tidal wave had destroyed the villages on the coast where we were driven ashore, and the terrified inhabitants had fled inland, leaving the strand strewn with their household gods, and littered with uprooted trees and fragments torn from the dense vegetation.

Soon the storm-wrack cleared away, the heavens were a vault of blue faintly laced with thin transparencies of clouds, the sun appeared in all his splendour, playing on the still waters within the reef with a myriad flashing colours, while the rainbow-tinted coral forest seemed to wave gracefully in the shades and gleams as some bright-coloured fish lazily stirred the thick subaqueous undergrowths. A soft pearly haze rested on the purpling ocean, and it was difficult to believe that an awful tempest had so recently swept over the peaceful scene. When night came, the full moon rose radiantly in the east, throwing a broad track of silver across the crisp wavelets, and shedding a soft halo round the sad wreck of the Molly Asthore, so plainly doomed no more through rolling seas to ride again.

The neighbouring thicket in which we had made some slight timorous explorations, skirted a tropical forest in which the trees and tangled undergrowth were so closely packed that the hurricane had done but little damage except upon the seaward edge. The cocoanut trees, which are not very firmly rooted, and have at the top of their high cylindrical stems a heavy plume of leaves, among which the nuts nestle in luscious clusters, had suffered severely wherever they were exposed to the fury of the gale. The bread-fruit trees, which are of sturdy growth and well-balanced with thickly-fruited branches, were not much injured.

As we advanced into the depths of the forest, amidst the sombre foliage, the rank matted grasses, and the festooned canopy of interlacing parasites, the balmy air of the beach gave place to a hot, moist, and sickly atmosphere that was very oppressive. But the luxuriant vegetation of the jungle was of transcendant beauty. Sometimes there was a plot of grass of a delicate green, wonderfully soft and fragrant, and illuminated at intervals by the flaming blossoms of the hibiscus and cactus. The kowrie or dakua grew intermingled with wild nutmegs, which exhaled a pleasant aroma. An enormous yevu-yevu tree formed a complete bower in itself. The small white flowers of the ivi emitted a delicious perfume, and the kavika or malay apple-trees, had densely strewn the ground beneath their branches with petals and stamens, giving the turf the appearance of a tesselated pavement. Innumerable creepers and trailing plants depended from trunk and bough, interlaced with each other in endless coils, which turned and twisted from the roots of the large trees, and ascended to the highest branches to fall again in leafy steps of glossy green, or assume some new fantastic shape, and so shut out the sun that in some of the shady dells it was impossible to avoid a chill. The whole neighbourhood was fragrant with the scent of the lemon, the jasmine, the pine-apple, and the orange. It was only necessary to stretch forth one’s arm to secure a delightful repast.

We knew that the savages would not be long absent from their fishing grounds on the reef, and we were very circumspect in our movements, always retiring to the stranded schooner at nightfall, and keeping careful watch.

On the third day after our almost miraculous landing on the island the air was rent by the yells of a hundred Fijians, who had doubtless been watching us for some time previously, and who had now determined to take us and our fortress, the wrecked vessel, by assault.

On they came, under cover of the trees, launching at us volley after volley of arrows, and, what were more formidable, stones from slings. There was a breeze blowing which diverted the course of the former missiles to some extent, and many fell short. But the stones rattled about our ears in very uncomfortable proximity. We had a few guns, but there were not more than half-a-dozen rounds of ammunition that had not been hopelessly damaged by the salt-water. However, we kept the savages at bay by occasionally dropping a man. Firearms were not unknown to them, having been introduced in another part of the group some years previously, but they were still very scarce, and our munitions of war would be considered a great prize, could they be taken.

Towards evening our last shot had been expended, and the enemy held off, waiting for the cover of darkness to make a grand rush and finish us with the club. Ovens were already being prepared for the approaching cannibal feast, so sure were they of the result. The captain remarked that among the insulting fire of words the natives kept up he could distinguish that they were bespeaking the three of us joint by joint. They were also preparing the three kinds of vegetables always eaten with bokola, as baked human flesh is called. These I afterwards learned were the leaves of the malawathi, the tudano, and the borodina. The two former are middle-sized trees, growing wild. The borodina is cultivated; it is a bushy shrub, seldom higher than 6ft., with a dark, glossy foliage, and berries very much like tomatoes, which have a faint aromatic smell, and are sometimes prepared like tomato sauce. These plants are wrapped round the several joints of the prepared human body, and baked with them on the hot stones of the cannibal oven.

When it became apparent that our capture by club and spear was only a question of an hour or two if we remained on the schooner, we determined to make good our retreat to the friendly shelter of the forest. As soon as night fell we quietly slid down a rope at the stern into the sand, and wading some distance into the sea, travelled along the coast-line until we were well out of reach of the cannibal horde. Then we struck into the woods and concealed ourselves in a vast cabin formed by the roots of a baka.

This tree resembles the famous banyan of India. Its branches are propped up by aerial roots which run along the ground, assuming strange shapes, and forming a fantastic maze, which is perfectly indescribable in its convolutions. At first a parasite on other trees, it soon acquires such dimensions that it sucks all their sap, when they die, and it then has to draw its nourishment from the soil. The crown of the giant baka, upborne on air roots, expands into a cloud of foliage frequently 150ft. in diameter, or 450ft. in circumference. This hanging garden of vegetation is decorated with pendant cacti and brilliant orchids. Gorgeously-plumaged parrots hang among the boughs nibbling at the blossoms, gem-like lizards bask on the trunk, and innumerable insects hum in chorus in the foliage. Bush-ropes of every size and degree of pliancy climb and twist about, running from tree to tree. Some stately trunks, supported by these natural stays and braces, looked like the masts of a fleet at anchor. The mighty baka forms an awe-inspiring object, and is frequently made sacred to priestly incantations. Such a tree having this character is never approached by Fijians not in the priestly office, so that our place of concealment seemed very secure.

Presently we heard the demoniac yells of the savages. They had leaped upon the schooner, club in hand, and found that the birds had flown. They searched the vessel diligently, pilfering every article that could be easily removed. It was then determined that we were hidden in some part of the hold. They set fire to our craft, and soon the hulk, which lay exposed on the sand, a hundred yards from the water-line, was reduced to ashes. In the lurid light of the conflagration we could see from our leafy cavern the forms of the all but naked Fijians dancing in hideous glee, and anxiously watching for some sign of their expected victims in the flames. As soon as they were satisfied that the white men had escaped, the beach and the forest were scoured in all directions. Numerous search parties passed close to us, but did not enter the sacred precincts of the baka tree.

When daylight came, and we were able to see distinctly the sable forms flitting about the wood, the captain said he thought he recognised a chief with whom he had had transactions on his former visit to the Sandalwood coast. He believed now, that with his slight knowledge of the language and his acquaintance with this chief, we could deliver ourselves up with safety, and hope to live in comfort until the arrival of some European vessel. I was opposed to this scheme, having no confidence whatever in the natives. But I was overruled by my two companions.

We had each a cutlass and a gun, but no ammunition fit for use. When the skipper called out that we surrendered, we emerged from our hiding-place, and walked boldly towards one of the wrecked villages, which was rapidly being set in order again, threatening the common people around us with instant death if they offered to molest us. The head chief of the district, Waikatakata (Hot-Water), who had been apprised of our coming, awaited us, seated on a large stone at the door of his roofless house, with his counsellors and a large assemblage around him.

The captain presented a whale’s tooth, which was one of a number stowed in the schooner for the purpose of trade, and asked the protection of the tribe for the white men.

The important personage he addressed, called the Turanga Levu by his vassals, had, it seemed, had no previous personal acquaintance with foreigners.

Waikatakata said—“Welcome to the men with shark’s eyes. The people from beyond where the ocean carries the sky can bring us guns and hatchets, and help us to punish the insolent foe. We have heard of their prowess in the kingdom of Bau, and desire that they should make this land their home.”

Then rose an old priest of uncanny aspect. “Not so,” quoth he, “or evil days will assuredly fall upon the land. When we first saw the gleam of a foreign sail, like a spirit walking on the waters, at the meeting place of sea and sky, where the sun is daily drowned,[2] we said, ‘These are god-ships,’ and we longed for a visit from those divine navigators. The white man came, as we have heard, and was believed to be a god. With his arms of might he has done wonders for Naulivou of Bau. But when for his oppression he fell under the avenging club of his former friends, it was seen that he bled and was no god, but mortal as ourselves. The white man’s gods are not the gods of Fiji. If they are to be set up here the wrath of the great Dengeh will be aroused; he will shake with anger in his cave, and the whole earth will be barren. It is he who has sent us these castaways. They must die. The customs of our country and our religion not only sanction but demand and sanctify the deed.”

2. The Fijian expression for horizon.

As the priest ended, it was clear that the populace sided with him. Had it not been so he would not have spoken so boldly. The chief wavered. He feared to arouse the ill-will of his conservative people, and at the same time he ardently desired the power which he believed the presence of white men could bring him.

After a brief address, in which he insinuated his own views without appearing to express them, he concluded, “The priest has spoken with words of earthly wisdom, but not with inspiration. Let the oracle be consulted, and I will abide the result.”

The priest anointed himself with scented cocoanut oil, and became absorbed in thought. The assemblage waited in breathless silence. We watched him with a fearful interest, for our fate hung upon the end of this strange scene.

In a few minutes a perceptible tremor agitated the old man’s frame. His limbs twitched, and faint, rapid distortions passed over his face, like shadows chasing each other on the water. These gradually increased till a violent muscular action set in; foam appeared upon his lips, and he gasped and sobbed in strong convulsions. He shouted, gnashed his teeth, clenched his hands, swayed himself backwards and forward. He shook from head to foot; his veins swelled till they seemed just about to burst, and his muscles tightened till they threatened to snap. He seemed to be lashed and torn by hurricanes of racking torture.

“Now he is possessed by his god,” it was whispered round, and every ear was strained to catch the first words of the supernatural deliverance.

The excitement was intensified by the priest jerking forth at intervals sundry exclamations about his god, or himself, or both of them together, thus:—“I! I! I! It is I! The god! The god! It is we! We two!” Then, still writhing, trembling, groaning, looking like a mad paralytic kneeling on ground shaken by an earthquake, the people, unable to remain quiet any longer, shouted deliriously, “That is it! See! see! Wonderful! True! There they are! Both of them!”

The climax had now been reached. The priest, with rolling eyes and frenzied voice, screamed, “It is I! It is I! Listen to Dengeh! Trust not the white men. They grow slowly like the nut, and abide—the Fijians like the plantain, and wither in a few days. Hear not the words of the religion they bring. It is the lie of a far away path.”

The divination was clearly against us. We gathered from the satisfied grunts and expressive gestures of our neighbours that we should shortly be clubbed and consigned to the oven.

Meanwhile the priest was gradually recovering from his paroxysm. He looked round with a vacant stare, as though waking from a trance, and as the god uttered the words, “I depart,” violently flung himself down on the ground. He remained quivering for some time, but shortly sat up, took a draught of water, and was himself again.

The chief had been a deeply-interested spectator of the scene, but it seemed to us that he was more moved by the attitude of the people than by the vaticinations of the priest, in whose inspiration it is doubtful if he believed. After some minutes of reflection he remarked, “The god has spoken, but the fate of the white men is not decreed. The priest shall visit the cave of the great Dengeh and show us an omen before the club falls.”

That evening costly offerings of food, clubs, spears, native cloth, &c., were prepared and presented at the mouth of a cave in a neighbouring hill, the road to which was known only to the priest. These valuable articles were afterwards appropriated by the servant of Dengeh. Before the offerings could be presented and the ear of the oracle gained, the priests on these occasions must draw slowly near the holy places in a manner that is most painfully reverential. This they do kneeling, not crawling on all fours, as serfs do when approaching their chiefs—in this country, a process far too easy and pleasant—but “walking” on their knees only, without letting their hands share the burden, and without steadying help from the toes, which dare not touch the ground, however gently, at the peril of their owner. If, unhappily, they flagged in this weary and painful progression, and but once allowed their feet to touch the sacred soil, the god would turn those feet white; while if they ventured to rest or move forward at a quicker pace, by putting their hands on the ground, the incensed Dengeh would cause the land to be stricken with famine.

When the god was consulted as to a declaration of war, the priest bent his ear over the cave and listened attentively for the reply. If there came up from the divine hiding-place a noise like the clash of arms in battle, the priest was bound to declare that war must be the order of the day; but if no sound broke the silence of the god’s retreat he had as plainly to say that for the present at least the tribes might continue in the prosperity and gladness of unbroken peace. If blood were found on the path the following morning it was a sure indication that the god was favourable to war, or demanded human sacrifices. If the priest was desired to pray for rain, and to ask if the time was near when it would be poured down on their thirsty and parched-up lands, bending his ear again towards the Oracle he listens. Should the answer be given in sounds like the gurgling of water streams, he has simply to say, “The drought is at an end my friends, and the land is saved.” The priest was generally an elderly and experienced man, with his “weather eye,” always open, and perhaps also with a somewhat rheumatic body. If the experienced eye could detect in the change of wind or the state of the atmosphere that the rain was not far off, or if the sensitive nerves from sundry twitchings and pains proclaimed it near, it is not difficult to imagine how easily the prophetic ear of the owner of such nerves and eye could hear the gurgling of water streams, and, if need were, even the thunder of mighty falls.

In the present instance our ecclesiastical friend, on his way to the cave in the screw-pine hills, took a fowl with him, and decapitated it en route. It so happened that on the following morning there was blood upon the path. We were condemned to die.

Lolóma, or two years in cannibal-land

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