Читать книгу Men from Under the Sky - Stanley Brown - Страница 12

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Scent of Sandalwood (1804-14)

Bligh had shown the way for others to follow. As the tiny topsails grew larger on the horizon, it must have seemed to the Fijians that the strangers came literally from "under the sky." During the next nine years several ships were to pass through or call at the Fiji Islands. But their impact was not great: the missionaries were on their way to other islands; the traders were looking for pickings that were easier found in other places.

The missionary ship Duff was caught among the maze of reefs in the Lau Group and barely escaped disaster.

Like Tasman's ship she stuck on a reef but escaped and sped away from the islands. As a result of the voyage there were a few more reefs superimposed on Bligh's charts to warn others. Several trading vessels stopped off and even anchored, but such islanders as were seen gave the voyagers such a warlike reception that none lingered. But at last, and inevitably, one of these ships came to stay. It was the brig Argo, and she was to remain forever as her timbers bleached on the reef that had claimed her. She ran ashore on the huge Bukatatanoa Reef in Lau that today is named Argo Reef.

From the Argo came the first men of vavalagi to set foot in the islands. They were destined to leave in their wake misery and a lingering death. The crew and some missionary passengers escaped from the wreck by boat and landed at Oneata Island. Some lived for a while in peace with the owners of the land, but they had brought with them the germ of Asiatic cholera. The seamen themselves may have become immune to this disease, but it struck down the islanders more quickly than the clubs of their enemies. Finally the newcomers were killed off, but the disease spread to other islands where many died. Ghastly as it was, its power dissipated gradually, but for many years it was remembered, as was the coming of the white man, by the name lila balavu—the long wasting sickness.

One or two men survived both the shipwreck and the subsequent massacre. Of these, one was to have an impact on the life of the Fijians that extended beyond the introduction of a disease. He was Oliver Slater, who was able to leave Fiji by a ship that called two years later. It was the El Plumier, which helped to spread the Asiatic cholera germ from Lau to Koro and Vanua Levu. Slater was picked up at the last island, where he had made his way by canoe. As he sailed away, he carried with him the knowledge that these islands possessed a fortune ready for the taking.

While living with the Fijians he had seen them grating a fragrant wood on brain coral. The fragments of the wood yasi dina so obtained were then used to scent the coconut oil which they kept for toilet purposes. The wood was, in fact, sandalwood, which at that time was so highly prized and priced in China. Slater also discovered that the Fijians placed little value on the wood compared to the valuable things that could be obtained from ships, such as iron, glass and red paint. They had known of these items for many years, not from the ships which had just begun to call, but from their Tongan neighbours who had been dealing with ships for years.

It was from the Tongans that the Fijians had first obtained iron tools, with which they replaced the stone adzes they had used for so long. At the same time, the Tongans introduced to the Fijians the whale's tooth which was later to become an integral part of Fijian ceremonials.

After many vicissitudes Slater finally reached Port Jackson in New South Wales. Once ashore he quickly confided the secret of the sandalwood to John Aikin, the owner of a small schooner. Joining forces, the two fitted out an expedition to the islands. Ostensibly they were to leave for New Caledonia to seek bêche de mer, a sea cucumber, but in reality the schooner was sailed to Fiji. Within a few months the two men were back in Port Jackson with a cargo of the wood procured by exchange of a few old, broken cutlasses. A fortune was now theirs for the asking, provided they could keep the secret. A larger ship would be required so that the cargo could be taken directly to Canton, where a much better price could be obtained than in Port Jackson. But while preparing for a second voyage it became evident to Slater that his secret was out. Several ships started preparations for a sandalwood voyage to the islands before he had cleared New South Wales a second time.

Thus began, in this history of Fiji, a period that for violence, adventure and colourful characters was only equaled many years later by the American Wild West. The seamen of the early 19th century needed to be rugged individuals merely to survive the incredible hardships of seagoing. The life had a brutalizing effect on many men and officers, but in the sandalwood ships they were to meet men more violent than any they had previously met at sea.

These were the ex-convicts who were shipped at New South Wales to assist with the work of the boats sent ashore to gather sandalwood. At first that was all that was required of them. But eventually their cruel excesses caused the Fijians to turn against them, and it then became the duty of these ex-convicts to fight for the sandalwood before loading it in the ships. These were the men that many Fijians were to meet as their first introduction to the men from vavalagi.

Slater had introduced the sandalwood trade but did not influence it further, although he remained in the trade until his death at the hands of Fijians in 1814. Another man was to introduce new ways to the islands which were forever to change their history. His name was William Lockerby, Scottish-born mate of the American vessel Jenny which arrived in Sandalwood Bay in 1807. The bay had been given this name in New South Wales and was always known by that name and never by its own name of Bua Bay.

MAP 3: Sandalwood Bay and Coast on Vanua Levu

The twenty-seven-year-old Lockerby had joined his. ship in Boston for what was to be a voyage to New South Wales and Canton. When the Jenny arrived in Port Jackson the port was seething with the news of the enormous amounts 9f money to be made in the new sandalwood trade. Governor Bligh had ordered an investigation into the traffic which, when the results were known, left no doubt as to why ships were rushing to Sandalwood Bay. The investigators' report showed how a profit of £4,000 could be made on an original investment of £3,000 over a period of a few months. The captain of the Jenny, William Dorr, attempted to see Bligh, but that worthy had signified his intention of keeping the lucrative trade for British ships. No foreign ships were allowed to clear New South Wales for Fiji. But the resourceful Yankee skippers could not be kept from the new wealth. On clearing from Port Jackson they would give any port as their destination, then head straight for Tongatabu from where they intended to follow Bligh's track to Fiji.

Altogether, Bligh was not popular aboard the ship Jenny. Before the ship left New South Wales news came from ashore of the arrest of the governor by officers of the New South Wales Corps. Lockerby used up a whole box of ship's candles in celebration of the event. Another American ship, the Fair American, arrived in port soon after with the latest news of Sandalwood Bay and some advice for Captain Dorr of the Jenny. He was advised to take extra guns and men, as the people of the islands were no longer as willing to trade as they had been. The guns and men would ensure that if trade were refused, they could take a cargo by force from the reluctant owners.

The route to Fiji was now well known among the seamen who visited Port Jackson, but weather knowledge lagged far behind sailing directions. The Jenny, sailing as soon as she was readied for sea, moved straight into the tropical hurricane season. With a little knowledge, Dorr would have probably delayed her sailing. But he was in a hurry and as a result met a fierce blow south of Tonga which took both the main and foremast out of his vessel. A jury rig was fitted, and a few days after the blow the Jenny was once more under way for Sandalwood Bay. This time, however, she was delayed by lack of wind.

It was not long after the drifting ship came in sight of one of the Tongan islands that she was surrounded by a fleet of canoes. The men in the canoes showed yams and pigs as evidence of their intention to trade. Captain Dorr allowed about forty of the Tongans on board for the purpose of barter while Lockerby kept a sharp eye on the canoes that stayed close by. Moving around the stern, the mate found several lines hanging over it. He was about to investigate further when the Tongans, finding their attempt to bring weapons on board had been discovered, leaped overboard. A breeze fortuitously sprang up and the Jenny sailed away, Lockerby spraying the canoes with grapeshot as a parting gesture. Such was a voyage from Port Jackson to Fiji.

The Jenny entered the Fiji group on Cook's old track and stopped off at Vatoa, his Turtle Island. Friendly contact was made with the natives there and then the ship pushed on. Cruising through the remainder of the group without incident, the Jenny brought up at the island of Koro. After some trading for fresh food, course was set for Sandalwood Bay. Before rounding into the bay it was possible to see the masts of two vessels, a ship and a brig already at anchor there. As the bay opened up to view a longboat from the ship came alongside, carrying members of the crews of both the anchored vessels.

The boat's crew boarded Jenny with many expressions of good fellowship and offered assistance to pilot her to a safe anchorage. As the two vessels were soon identified as "colony" or New South Wales ships, it seemed strange for them to welcome a Yankee in this fashion. Dorr now showed that the Yankee reputation for shrewdness was a well-earned one. He had the newcomers plied with rum, whereupon it was soon evident from their loosened tongues that they intended to run the Jenny ashore. Led enthusiastically by mate Locker-by, the crew of the Jenny turned on the would-be wreckers and drove them out of the ship. Dorr found an anchorage without difficulty.

Lockerby, as mate, had the responsibility of procuring the cargo of sandalwood, a task that was obviously not going to be so easy. The men of the other two ships already knew the Fijian chiefs and had advised them not to trade with the Yankee interlopers. It looked as though the Jenny would have to lie at anchor until the colony ships had secured their cargoes and departed. But then a diversion occurred that was to relieve them all of the tedium of waiting and was to send Lockerby off on an exciting cruise.

A longboat arrived at Bua Bay manned by five nearly naked survivors of another Yankee vessel. They were the captain, two mates, and two seamen of the brig Eliza out of Providence, Rhode Island. She had been wrecked on the barrier reef of Nairai Island a few days previously. The survivors had not been harmed by the natives ashore, but had been stripped of all their possessions. They had been forced to leave behind on the island most of their shipmates and a great proportion of 40,000 silver dollars, which had been salvaged from the wreck.

Within two days Lockerby had organized a force to return to Nairai with the survivors. They were to retrieve the dollars, by force if necessary, and would bring to Bua Bay the remainder of the crew. The boats' crews were to be armed with muskets or pistols, and the two boats being taken were equipped with swivel guns. A day after leaving the Jenny, the two boats appeared off Nairai, in warlike array and ready to fight. It appeared, however, that their preparations would not be necessary.

The warriors of Nairai gave the boats' crews a friendly welcome, but there were no members of the Eliza crew to meet them. Through signs Lockerby ascertained that the men had already left the island in canoes. The Nairai people were at first more than willing to give up the shiny but useless bits of metal for more durable ship's hardware and broken knives. A brisk trade developed at the exchange rate of one hundred dollars for one small piece of iron.

However, the obvious care taken of the traded dollars showed the Nairai men that they had parted with them too easily. On the pretence of bringing green coconuts to the men in the boats the natives launched a sudden attack on Lockerby and the captain of the Eliza. Both were seized and thrown into the water. They were saved by the prompt action of the second mate, who opened fire with the bow gun of the other boat. The loud noise and smoke so startled the warriors that they fled, leaving the remaining dollars on the beach.

Altogether 9,000 of the dollars were recovered, but it would have been unwise to stay and trade any more. The natives had made signs that some of the dollars had been taken by members of the crew, and some had been taken by the captain in the first longboat trip. It is doubtful, however, if all the dollars were taken, and their whereabouts has ever remained a mystery. No attempt was made to find the other members of the crew, said to be on nearby islands, indicating that the expedition was raised only to recover the dollars. The boats returned to the Jenny, and once more Lockerby was faced with the problem of obtaining a cargo of sandalwood.

The two colony ships were still anchored at Bua, dealing with the chief ashore. Lockerby found it necessary to take his boats further along the coast in order to trade. Even there he met boats from the other ships; competition for a cargo was clearly going to be keen. Also, the Scotsman obviously enjoyed punitive expeditions more than the dull business of obtaining a cargo., Hearing that a boat from the Botany Bay brig Elizabeth had been seized, he organized a party to recapture the boat from the Fijians ashore. He had heard the story of the capture and knew the boat's crew to be in the wrong. He justified his action by noting that he meant to effect the capture by peaceful means-if possible.

Lockerby could have had no love for the crew of the colony boat. He probably either expected to claim a salvage fee for the boat's return, or, as seems likely, he just could not stay out of a fight. Taking charge of a fleet of three boats, all armed with swivel guns and musket-carrying crews, he failed to contact Captain Dorr or to ask his permission for his actions.

He led his small flotilla to the island where the captors had taken the boat and her crew, there to arrange a parley with the chief under a flag of truce. This warrior refused absolutely to give up the boat or the bodies of the two Europeans among the crew. He did, however, agree to release two Tahitians, who had been in the boat when it was taken. These men were handed over, terribly wounded, no attempt having been made to care for them or to dress their wounds. The condition of the prisoners and the arrogant manner of the Fijians angered the men with Lockerby. Those were the reasons they gave for opening fire with the swivel guns as they withdrew, still flying the flag of truce.

The power of powder and shot had been demonstrated to the people of these islands. It was probably not the first time, at least for the men on the Sandalwood coast, but it was the first recorded occasion. Of all the records left behind by Lockerby, this is the most significant, emphasized by the casual manner in which he writes about the carnage.

Turning from war to trade, Lockerby gained the friendship and confidence of the Tui (King) of Bua, the area of the coast on which most sandalwood grew. Soon satisfactory arrangements for trade were made, and boatload after boatload of wood were sent off to the ship. Whenever possible, Lockerby accompanied one of the boats back to the ship so that he could enjoy a night's rest aboard and the doubtful luxury of the ship compared with life in the boats. He was therefore well aware that the ship was filling rapidly. He was amazed, however, to receive the news that the Jenny had left. A sudden squall had parted the cables, and Captain Dorr had been unable to work the Jenny back under her awkward jury rig.

Going ashore full of foreboding as to the treatment he might receive, he was greeted by the old chief of Bua more as a son than a castaway. The chief made him most welcome and gave him all the privileges of a chief. This later proved inconvenient when, as a chief, he was no longer able to feed himself and had to have his food and drink placed in his mouth by a servant. The use of the hands by a chief for such menial tasks as conveying food was tabu. The food was easily taken but the matter of drinking required much practice. He adopted the dress of the natives as his own clothes soon became filthy and ragged. At first he and his men suffered greatly from sunburn and the bites of mosquitoes and sand flies, but with daily applications of coconut oil and turmeric their skin became darkened and toughened so that they felt little discomfort. Lockerby was well cared for, as were all his men, who were treated not as chiefs but as the commoners with whom they lived.

2. Tui Macuata, a major Fiji chief, shown with a sailor.

Lockerby had no intention of staying in Fiji and becoming a beachcomber, regardless of whether or not he enjoyed the status of chief. He and his men decided to make their boat more seaworthy and try to sail to Australia.

At this time there were three more major chiefs in the area—Tui Cakau, Tui Macuata and Tui Vuya, who was also known as Buli Dama. They were becoming increasingly envious of Tui Bua and the wealth he was obtaining from the sandalwood ships. Together they sent messages and a fleet of canoes demanding further tribute, which the Tui Bua refused to give. Instead, he started to build a fort, explaining to Lockerby that he had never needed one before, but as the other chiefs were combining he feared an attack from them. Lockerby's men were busily engaged at this time in reinforcing their boat, telling Tui Bua that it would be useful for the defence of his fort.

In addition to seeing to his own fortifications, Tui Bua visited the surrounding chiefs who were subject to him, to ensure their support in the case of attack. Because of the danger of meeting a roving war party, he went with a fleet of 20 canoes with his men fully armed for war. Lockerby, painted black as were the warriors, accompanied him, carrying a musket and two pistols.

At the nearby town of Tacilevu they found a scene of great activity. All the available men were putting the town's defences in the strongest possible state. To demonstrate the power he controlled through his friends, Tui Bua had Lockerby discharge his musket and pistols at a nearby tree. The Fijians were more impressed and terrified by the noise than they were by the manner in which the bark flew from the trees. They asked for a repeat performance, but Lockerby, who did not intend to let them see how unprotected he would be during the long process of loading, made excuses for not firing again. After this demonstration of fire power and a discussion with the chiefs, the Tacilevu people renewed their pledge to help Tui Bua if he were attacked. Then the whole party returned to Bua, this time traveling by land.

A feeling of war was in the air and scouts were sent ahead of the main party for the whole of the trip back. Tui Bua's people had scarcely settled down to the work of strengthening the fort when a fleet of canoes was sighted. Defences were manned, but before long the lookout called out that the canoes were friendly. A messenger sent to the beach to meet them brought word that they contained warriors from the island of Koro who had come to help Tui Bua in the expected battle with the forces of the other three chiefs.

Lockerby would have liked to have gone down to the beach and joined in the welcome of these men, but Tui Bua restrained him, saying that no welcome would take place that day. It seemed to be an extraordinary way to treat potential allies. The men from Koro were left to spend the night in the vicinity of their canoes, and except for several old women who took them some cooked food, they had no contact with the Bua people. To Lockerby's questions, the Tui Bua replied that it was "the customs of the land," a phrase that visitors were to hear for many years to come as an explanation of the Fijians' actions.

The next morning, however, the castaways were soon aware that ceremonies of some importance were afoot. The warriors were dressing and oiling themselves with more than usual care, while the old men and women were busy preparing what appeared to be mountains of food. Lockerby was informed that he and his men should dress as they had done for the recent visit to the Tacilevu fort and should all appear before the Tui with their muskets. When they did so he was already surrounded by a great number of his own warriors who were arranging themselves in a rough semi-circle; the Tui, ceremoniously dressed in masi, or bark cloth, robes and headdress, was the centre of the circle.

After a great deal of preparation which appeared to follow some sort of protocol, in which Lockerby's men were placed in close proximity to the chief, a herald was sent to summon the Koro warriors. After a suitably timed delay a procession was observed making its way towards the cleared space of grassland, at one end of which the chief and men of Bua were waiting to receive them.

The castaways' first close view of the Koro men was truly impressive. The Bua men were preparing for war. But the Koro were ready to do battle that instant. All were tall and heavily muscled, and those armed with bows were in the lead and painted with oil and turmeric. They were closely followed by the men armed with spears, all painted red from the navel down, and a fearsome black above through which their teeth and eyes gleamed savagely. Bringing up the rear were the wielders of clubs, painted black with the exception of their heads and arms which were red. All had streamers of white masi attached to their heads and arms, and the spears were similarly decorated.

Tui Bua received them, standing in the half circle of his men, leaning on his spear. First, a huge feast of pigs and root vegetables, still steaming from the heat of earth ovens, was presented to the visitors with grave ceremony. The leader of the Koro warriors then advanced and made his obeisance before Tui Bua. There followed a discussion between them about the expected war, and although Lockerby could not follow all the discussion that was formally carried on in the language of ceremony, it was apparent to him that an agreement had been reached. As if to seal the agreement, a man whose huge girth the seamen had noticed, advanced and commenced to unwind a long length of pure white masi from around his body. This masi which had given the impression of a huge body was unwound slowly amid many expressions of approval from the Bua herald. It measured, the seamen judged, about fifty fathoms in length, and the presentation was equally impressive.

Now the Koro leader advanced and stood by Tui Bua. At his signal the bowmen came forward, one at a time each to be given a new bow and a bundle of arrows. Then those armed with spears advanced and were each given a spear and told that when these spears were returned after the battle, payment would be made. An issue of clubs was then made, and the visitors, without another word, picked up the food and retired to the houses that had been set aside for their use.

During all these warlike preparations, Lockerby had detached some of his men to work on the boat. By the time of the ceremony with the men from Koro, it was seaworthy and already partly-stored. Food stores were most difficult to obtain as the Bua folk had dug up all their ripe food crops and had destroyed their gardens preparatory to moving into the completed fort. Lookouts were always posted, slung from treetops in baskets, and all the men had to stand watches at this duty.

A few days later Lockerby was taking his turn at lookout, torn between his desire to help the chief-who had treated him so kindly—and the urge to sail, as he had promised his men he would do, as soon as the boat was ready. All coastal traffic by canoes was at a standstill, and any sail sighted would most assuredly be that of the enemy canoe fleet. When Lockerby first saw a white speck on the horizon, therefore, he almost gave the alarm, until something strange and yet oddly familiar caused him to pause. For the sail, such as it was, was not the triangular matting of a canoe sail, but was square and incredibly white. It was, in fact, the topsail of a brig that lifted rapidly into view. He joyfully passed the news to his men and left his post to inform the Tui and obtain his permission to board the brig.

She was the American brig Favourite out of Port Jackson, and the castaway was in time to pilot her to the best anchorage. The captain, William Campbell, offered Lockerby and his men passage, and Lockerby in turn offered to use his knowledge and friendship with the local chief to procure a cargo of sandalwood.

Soon afterwards, dressed again in seaman's garb, Lockerby set out for the village of Korovatu where he hoped to obtain the wood, accompanied by a passenger from the ship. En route they came across a roving war party, well armed. The foreigners caused quite a sensation when Lockerby, whom the warriors did not now recognize, spoke to them in their own language. He first asked to which chief they belonged. When they replied, "The chief of Korovatu," he asked to be taken to him. Meeting the chief, Lockerby and his companion presented him with the presents the captain had sent from the ship and asked for his aid in procuring the wood. The chief replied that he was "too busy" and then blurted out the surprising information that he and the nearby chief of Tacilevu intended to support the expected enemy forces in avenging themselves on the chief of Tavea Island, who was the nephew of Tui Bua.

Stunned by this news of treachery, Lockerby left the village immediately, although it was late afternoon and he could not hope to reach Bua before nightfall. He and his friend became lost and, taking the wrong track, blundered into the village of Tacilevu, a dangerous enough happening at any time but doubly so when the men were preparing for war. Fortunately they were able to identify themselves as "men from the ship" and conceal their knowledge of the treachery they had discovered. They regained the ship the next morning to find another, the General Wellesley, at anchor close by.

The men in the ships were still thinking only of their cargo. While the coming war was a nuisance in that it would affect the collection of sandalwood, it was, they felt, none of their business. This also seemed to be Lockerby's view. Instead of warning his old friend and protector of the danger, he set off in charge of the two ships' boats to attempt to secure a cargo farther along the coast.

The boats proceeded as far as the Bay of Wailea, but they found conditions there similar to those at Bua. The people had retired into their forts from which they would not emerge even to accept presents. That alone should have been sufficient warning to the men in the boats of the imminence of the danger. Blindly oblivious to all but their trading instincts, however, they wasted much time trying to parley and persuade the Waileans to trade.

As they returned to the boats and started to leave the bay, they soon had cause to regret both their actions. They had ignored the obvious impending arrival of the enemy fleet, revealed by the actions of the Fjians. They had also failed to warn Tui Bua of the suspected treachery of his allies. Now, drawn up across the mouth of the bay, completely sealing it, were the canoes of a huge fleet—the combined forces of Macuata, Cakau-drove and Vuya.

Even their firearms were of little use now. With their swivels and muskets they could kill a few of the enemy, but before they could begin to reload the swift sailing canoes would be alongside and spears and clubs would soon decide the issue. Lockerby ordered the other boat to follow his lead and steered straight for one of the canoes in the hope of parleying or breaking through the ring of craft. Unfortunately, the canoe he picked was full of fierce warriors from the island of Bau, rovers who had joined the fight for the plunder they could obtain. Before any parley could begin the sandalwood traders were roughly handled and pulled into the canoe.

The other boat was similarly taken by a canoe full of men from Vuya. All the men were stripped of their clothes and arms, and the canoe crews would have quickly clubbed them had not Buli Dama, commanding the combined fleet and knowing the value of hostages, ordered that they be kept alive. For the two sandalwood ships still lay at anchor in Bua Bay, and any attack on Tui Bua would be abortive if their guns were to be used in his defence.

However, Bua was not the immediate objective. The canoes were on their way to attack the Tui's nephew at Tavea. The prisoners were to be unwilling witnesses to that bloody battle. The swift sailing canoe in which Lockerby lay bound outs ailed the others of the fleet and arrived off Tavea, where it was immediately attacked by five small canoes. These canoes, each with a crew of ten, bravely attacked the huge, less manoeuvrable double canoe, and came close to taking it, but the remainder of the fleet coming up astern drove them off.

The first day's fighting, after the excitement of the canoe action, was neither spectacular nor sustained. The defenders made a few sallies from the stockade surrounding their small island. Their small canoes were soon beaten off and retreated along the coast out of the fight. Several men were killed on both sides, and one prisoner was taken by the Bau canoe during this indecisive skirmish. At night the attacking fleet left the island and sailed to the mainland where fires were lit and arrow spear points were extracted from wounds, using seashells in the manner of tweezers. No help was given to the prisoner in the Bau canoe who had many wounds, but shortly after landing Lockerby saw him almost casually clubbed and his body sent to the ovens that had been dug.

The same mode of occasional fighting continued the next morning, and the pattern of the first day was repeated for the ensuing three days. On the fourth morning, a canoe of the attacking party sailed over to Tavea, almost as if by arrangement, and finding the defences deserted fired the thatch of a house. At this signal all the other canoes sailed to the island. The crews rushed ashore, firing the remaining buildings and carrying off all the livestock and the small amount of goods the buildings housed.

The island appeared to be deserted, but just as the invaders were preparing to leave the scene of desolation, a woman was discovered hiding in a nearby mangrove. A search discovered all the people who had been unable to swim to the mainland the night before, either through age, infirmity or the need to care for young children. There followed a scene of the most revolting savagery as those in hiding either ran or were dragged from cover. Many were clubbed immediately, while others were run down and dispatched by spears. Over three hundred fifty old men, women and children were butchered. The canoe in which Lockerby was held prisoner had forty-two bodies on board, on which sea water was continuously poured to neutralize the effects of the hot sun. As the canoes sailed back to the mainland coast in the evening the reddening sky silhouetted the bodies of children hanging from the mastheads. Of all those left behind on Tavea, only a boy, whose body was horribly mangled, survived the massacre.

After the cannibal feast that followed, the canoes sailed once more towards Bua Bay, satisfied that the power of Tavea had been broken. The warriors were dismayed to find the two ships still covering the entrance to the bay. Now the boarding nettings were triced up and the guns were manned. At last the imminence of danger had been recognized.

Once more the canoes headed for the mainland shore out of sight of the ships. Lockerby was looking for an opportunity for him and his men to make a dash for freedom, but none came. He passed up one chance of escaping on his own, but one of the other seamen ran off into the bush and made his way to Bua Bay. When the man reported to Captain Campbell, that worthy had just returned from bombarding the fort at Tacilevu with a twelve-pounder in retaliation for the supposed death of his men. He was assured that they were still alive but that the position was critical.

In the meantime Lockerby, still captive, had been offering any concessions to their captors in return for their release. He had even offered to assist them in their attack on Tui Bua in return for a cargo of sandalwood. His oratory had its effect, and he was just at the stage of discussing the form of release and the presents he would obtain from the ship when the news came of Campbell's attack on Tacilevu in which nine defenders had been killed.

It was then decided to send back to the ships all the men except Lockerby and another named Thomas Berry, who were to be held as hostages against the presents the warriors expected to receive. The canoe left with the remainder, but as they neared the ships, the Fijians stopped paddling and refused to go any closer. Confident that they could be covered by fire from the ships and desperate in case their captors should return ashore, the seamen took the canoe by force and made for the ship. Had it not been for the men held as hostages, it is certain that they would have exacted revenge for the treatment received and the long days of captivity, especially since some of the Fijians were still wearing the clothing that had been stripped off the captives. Once alongside, the seamen forcibly recovered all their gear, whereupon the Fijians in the canoe threatened that they would take revenge on the hostages. Captain Campbell decided therefore to seize two of their number who were of chiefly rank and ordered the remainder away from the ship's side. An ugly situation arose with the warriors' return to the shore. Instead of bringing the presents, they had returned empty-handed after losing two of their number. The returned men formed a close ring around the two captives, haranguing them fiercely, and one stepped forward with raised club. But Buli Dama knew that he could not force the fort if the ships helped in its defence. He agreed to ransom the two foreigners and sent them off in a large group of canoes in an attempt to secure the neutrality of the ships in the coming battle.

Tempers were now short, and each side was suspicious of the intentions of the other. Seeing the unusually large number of canoes approaching, Captain Campbell, fearing attack, ordered a warning shot to be fired over them, at which the canoes stopped and began to retire out of range. Surveying the scene through his glass Campbell saw the two figures of his men and realized he had been too hasty. He then dispatched a small boat manned by two Indian Lascar crew members containing presents for the Fijians. These men were permitted close to the canoes as they were obviously harmless. Lockerby, rapidly questioning the Lascars in Hindustani, discovered to his dismay that the two Fijian hostages were already dead. They had attempted to escape and had almost got free when the captain, realizing the fate of his two men if they regained their liberty, opened fire and killed both of them.

Lockerby rapidly told the Lascars of their situation and sent back a message that the only way to save them now was an attack on the canoes. This time Campbell sent a larger boat, with two Lascars facing away from the canoes dressed as the dead chiefs, and with an armed party lying concealed in the bottom boards. Unfortunately they were all so keyed up that when the helmsman cried out a warning of a reef ahead the seamen took it as a signal to attack and showed themselves too soon.

However, they poured a withering musket fire into the canoes, which had the Fijians jumping overboard each time the guns were discharged. The Fijians thus escaped some of the musket balls but others found their mark, and the surrounding sea was soon reddened with the stain of their blood. Berry escaped and was able to swim over to the boat, but Lockerby was unable to free himself from his bonds and had to jump overboard still bound. There he was grabbed by a huge Fijian, dragged under water, and nearly drowned until the hail of musket fire drove off his attacker and he surfaced to be rescued by the boat's crew.

Having been worsted by a mere boat's crew, it was obvious that the invasion fleet could not now force the bay, particularly after they had permanently forfeited the goodwill of the men in the ships. Under the protection of the guns, Tui Bua was safe, as the canoe fleet, still impressive, sailed away.

Many minor chiefs of the Bua coast who had defected to the enemy now came to Tui Bua and made their sora or obeisance and asked for forgiveness. Secure in the protection of his friends, the Tui generously gave this after a few words of warning as to future loyalties. But the warriors of Tacilevu and Korovatu, although paying their tribute to Tui Bua, warned that they would kill any of the ships' men who ventured ashore. When they were told that the attack on their forts had taken place only after they had joined the enemy who held the seamen prisoner, they surlily renewed their threats.

The sandalwood trade was now, more than ever, at a standstill because of the certain fate of men sent to collect the wood. The ships' captains decided to make an all-out attack on the Tacilevu fort, and Tui Bua, still unforgiving despite his smooth words to the defenders, agreed to assist the ships. The forces of the Tui numbered about 1,800, and Lockerby commanded one of the boats of the General Wellesley with sixteen European seamen. The boat was armed with a twelve-pounder carronade and a four-pounder fitted forward. The boat of the recently arrived Tonquin was commanded by the mate Brown and was fitted with similar guns. As Brown and his men had just arrived they had none of the bitterness or reasons for revenge that prompted Lockerby and his followers. It is probably for that reason that it was later reported that the Tonquin did not "engage heartily."

After the men hauled the boats close inshore at high tide, an irregular fire was opened on the forts without causing any visible damage to the wickerwork stockade. The falling tide made it necessary to move out into deeper water for fear of grounding the boats and leaving them vulnerable to attack. As the boats withdrew, many of the Bua warriors attacked while some of their number were set to clearing the undergrowth from the approaches to the fort.

The Korovatu adherents of the defenders had arrived and occupied an adjacent hilltop, but were prevented from making contact with their allies by the disposition of the Bua warriors who had surrounded the fort.

Lockerby now set up his guns in the newly cleared approaches and undertook a brisk attack on the fortifications. In an attempt to suppress the accurate gunfire the Tacilevu warriors made a sortie from the fort at the same time as their allies launched a fierce attack from the hilltop. Weathering a hail of cannister shot and musket balls, they almost reached the guns but were met in time by the men of Bua. A fierce hand-to-hand contest followed in which the now silent guns were saved by the Tui's men.

Breaking off the engagement after a heavy loss of life, the defenders again retired to their fort on the hilltop. The guns' ammunition supply was now hurriedly replenished from the boats, with the work completed just in time for the guns to be ready to counter the next attack. Learning from past mistakes and losses, the Tacilevu launched a fiercer and better coordinated attack, causing the Bua warriors to fall back nearly to the water's edge. The guns were in danger of capture before the sortie was broken off and the defenders once more retired.

Lockerby, partly to restore morale and also to show that his men who had so far served the guns could also fight, led an attack of six volunteers to the gate of the fort. Reaching the moat surrounding the stockade, the seamen were able to start several fires with the aid of lighted bamboo. But this was a type of attack that was well understood by the Tacilevu men, and the fires were just as quickly extinguished.

Rushing the gate, the seamen now started to fire through the narrow opening and were able to pick off their victims. Seeking a counter to this new threat, the defenders pulled down a section of the fence and poured through this large opening to take their attackers from the rear. Lockerby ordered his men to retreat and stayed with Berry to cover them. In a desperate battle he barely made his way back to the guns, wounded in the side. Berry was killed as he attempted to follow Lockerby's example.

In the confusion the fort defenders attacked again with a desperate rally but were content to break out to their hilltop allies and leave the fort deserted. Their resistance at last broken, they divided themselves into small groups and dispersed.

The battle, by the Fijian standards of that time, was now over. All that remained was to loot and fire the fort and collect the bodies of enemies for the cooking pots. When the men of Bua at last entered the fort they were finally convinced of the efficacy of firearms. Strewn around the defences were the bodies of more than two hundred defenders killed in positions where they would have been completely safe from all types of Fijian weapons.

During the huge cannibal feast that followed, the men from the ships gave Berry a Christian burial. The enemy being not only bested, but dispersed, the sandal-wood trade could now continue, and the thoughts of the sailors switched rapidly from conquest to commerce.

Lockerby procured a cargo for the Favourite and, when she sailed, stayed on to perform a like function for the General Wellesley. He was well paid by both ships. After an arduous collecting voyage during which he was nearly lost when his boat was driven on a reef during a gale, he finally departed from Fiji in the latter ship.

As though the period on the sandalwood coast were not sufficient for his adventurous spirit, he left the ship at Canton and shipped as first lieutenant on a Chinese river gunboat, and then returned to Boston to claim his wages from Dorr and Company, where he met his former captain and was formally paid off.

He sold a chart of Sandalwood Bay which he had surveyed. The original has been lost but it may have been the basis of the chart of Bligh's Islands produced in 1814 by Arrowsmith of London. With a rough outline of some of the islands and the tracks of Bligh on his two voyages and of the missionary vessel Duff, the chart shows Sandalwood Bay in some detail.

Lockerby was therefore present at the first full-scale use of firearms in Fijian wars. He could probably have stayed on and become a great chief, but he preferred to return home where he ended his days, a prosperous merchant, writing his memoirs and leaving a description of this early use of powder ball and shot.

Sa duidui na kaiualagi. White men are different from each other indeed, and not all men would lose the chance to lead the Fijians in battle, or to take the honours and titles that would follow.