IN A NATIVE VILLAGE
When I first settled down on this particular island as a trader, I had,in my boundless ignorance of the fierce jealousy that prevailed betweenthe various villages thereon, been foolish enough to engage two or threeservants from outlying districts--much against the wishes of the local_kaupule_ (town councillors), each of whom brought me two or threecandidates (relatives, connections or spongers of their own) and urgedthat I should engage them and no others. This I refused to do, pointblank, and after much angry discussion and argument, I succeeded inhaving my own way, and was allowed to choose my servants from villageswidely apart. In the course of a few weeks some terrific encounters hadtaken place between my women servants and other of the local females,who regarded them as vile usurpers of their right to rob and plunder thenew white man. However, in time matters settled down in a measure;and beyond vituperative language and sanguinary threats against thesuccessful applicants, the rejected candidates, male and female, behavedvery nicely. But I was slumbering on a latent volcano of fresh troubles,and the premonitory upheaval came about a month after our head nurse,Hakala, had been fined five dollars for using English Seafaring'language to another woman who had called her a pig. As Hakala could notpay the fine--being already in debt to me for two months' wages paid inadvance--I settled it; for she was a widow, and had endeared herselfto me by the vigorous manner in which she had pitched a large, fat girlnamed 'Heke out of the house for stealing some sugar from my store-room.The members of the _kaupule_ (the village parliament) were pleased toaccept the money, but wrote me a formal letter on the following morning,and remarked that it was wrong of me to encourage brutal conduct in anyof my servants--wrong and un-Christian-like as well. 'But,' the letterwent on to say, 'it is honest of you to pay this woman's fine; andTalamaheke' (the sugar-thief) 'has been sentenced to do three days'road-making for stealing the sugar. Yet you must not think evil ofTalamaheke, for she is a little _vale_ (mad), and has a class in theSunday-school. Now it is in our minds that, as you are an honest man,you will pay the fines owing on the horse.' I had a vague recollectionof my predecessor telling me something indefinite about a horsebelonging to the station, but could not remember whether he said thatthe animal was in the vicinity of the station or was rambling elsewhereon the island, or had died. So I called my Samoan cook, Harry, to learnwhat he knew about the matter. Harry was the Adonis of the village, andalready the under-nurse, E'eu, a sweet little hazel-eyed creature offifteen, and incorrigibly wicked, had succumbed to his charms, and spentmuch of her time in the kitchen. At that moment Harry was seated outsidethe cook-house, dressed in a suit of spotless white duck, playing anaccordeon; also he wore round his brown neck a thick wreath of whiteand scarlet flowers. Harry, I may remark, was a dandy and a notoriousprofligate, but against these natural faults was the fact that he couldmake very good bread.
'Harry,' I said, 'do you know anything about this horse?' and I tappedthe official letter.
He smiled. 'Oh, yes, sir. I know all 'bout him. He been fined altogether'bout two hundred and fifty dollar, an' never pay.'
'What do you mean? How can anyone fine a horse?'
Then Harry explained and gave me the horse's history.
The animal had been brought from New Zealand for some occult reason, andhad behaved himself very badly ever since he landed. Young banana treeswere his especial fancy, cotton plants he devoured wholesale, and itwas generally asserted that he was also addicted to kicking chickens. Mythree predecessors on the station had each repudiated the creature, andeach man when he left the island had said that his successor would payfor all damage done.
'Where is the brute now?' I asked.
Looking cautiously around to see that no one was within earshot, Harryinformed me that until a week previously the _nua_ had been runningquietly in the interior of the island for many months, but since myarrival had been brought back by two of the deacons and was now feedingabout the immediate vicinity.
'Why did the deacons bring him back, if he destroys banana trees andkill chickens?'
Harry looked very uncomfortable and seemed disinclined to speak, butat last let the cat out of the bag and revealed a diabolicalconspiracy--the horse had been brought back for my undoing, or ratherfor the undoing of the strings of my bag of dollars.
'You see, sir,' said he, confidentially, 'these people on this islandvery clever--all dam rogue' (his mother was a native of the island),'an' 'bout a month ago, when you give two dollar to help build newchurch, the _fakafili_ and _kaupule_{*} (judge and councillors) 'say youis a very good man and that you might pay that horse's fines. An' if youpay that horse's fines then the people will have enough money to send toSydney to buy glass windows and nice, fine doors for the new church. An'so that is why the deacons have bring that horse back.'
'But what good will bringing the horse here do? That won't make me payhis fines.'
'Oh, you see, sir, since the horse been come back the people take himout every day into some banana plantation and let him eat some trees.Then, by-and-by--to-morrer, perhaps--they will come an' ask you to goand look. Then you will look an' say, "Alright, I will pay five dollar."An' then when you pay that five dollar the _kaupule_ and the judge willsay, "Now you mus' pay for all the bad things that that horse do beforeyou come here." An' s'pose you won' pay, then I b'lieve the judge an'headmen goin' to _tapu_{*} your store. You see they wan' that money forchurch very bad, because they very jealous of Halamua church.'
* Tapu, in this sense, means boycotting.
'Jealous of Halamua church! Why?'
'Oh, because Halamua people been buy a foolpit for their church--a veryfine foolpit from California; an' now this town here very jealous, andthe people say that when you pay that horse's fine they will buy pinewindows, pine doors, and pine floor, _and give Halamua church hell?_
The novel (but in some cases exceedingly correct) pronunciationof pulpit pleased me, yet my wrath was aroused at this scandalousrevelation of the plans of the villagers to beautify their church at myexpense. It was as bad as any church bazaar in Christendom.
As Harry surmised, I received a visit from a deputation the nextmorning. They wanted me to come and see the destruction done to theirplantations by _my_ horse.
'But it's not my horse,' I said. 'I decline to hear anything about ahorse. There is no horse down in my stock list, nor an elephant.'
A dirty old ruffian with one eye and a tattooed face regarded me gravelyfor a moment, and then asked me in a wheezy, husky voice if I knew thatAnanias and Sapphira were struck dead for telling lies.
'Of course,' I replied promptly, 'I saw them struck. My uncle in Englandhad them buried in his garden to improve the soil. And why do you comehere and tell me these things about a horse? If there _is_ a horse, andit eats your bananas and sugar-cane, why don't you shoot it?'
This suggestion staggered the deputation, half of which scratched itshead meditatively. Then a tall, thin man, with an attenuated face like astarved fowl, said sneeringly in English,--
'What for you want to make gammon you no savee about horse?'
His companions smiled approvingly; not that they understood a word ofEnglish, but they evidently regarded the fowl-like creature as a learnedperson who would give me a dressing down in my own language.
I looked at him with a puzzled expression, and then said to Harry,--
'What does this man say, Harry? I can't talk German. Can you?'
Harry grinned and shook his head; the rest of the deputation lookedangrily at the hatchet-faced man, and the member seated next to him toldhim he ought to be ashamed of himself to pretend to be able to _vogahaufaka Beretania_ (talk English).
For some minutes no one spoke. Then the youngest member of thedeputation, a jolly, fat-faced young deacon, dressed in a suit of whiteflannel, laughed merrily, and asked me for some tobacco. I gave them aplug each all round, and the deputation withdrew. So having successfullyrepudiated the horse and all his works, I felt satisfied.
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Pigs were the next trouble--my own pigs and the pigs of the generalpublic. When I landed on the island I had brought with me from Sydneya lady and gentleman pig of exceedingly high lineage. They were nowthe proud and happy parents of seven beautiful little black-and-whitepiglets, and at any hour of the day one might see numbers of nativeslooking over my wall at the graceful little creatures as they chased oneanother over the grass, charged at nothing, and came to a dead stop withastonishing rapidity and a look of intense amazement. One fatal day Ilet them out, thinking they would come to no harm, as their parents werewith them. As they did not return at dusk I sent E'eu, the under-nurse,to search for them. She came back and told me in a whisper that thefather and mother pig were rooting up a sweet-potato patch belongingto the local chief. The piglets she had failed to discover. Enjoiningsecrecy, I sent E'eu and Harry to chase the parents home. This waseffected after considerable trouble, but the owner of the potato patchclaimed two dollars damages. I paid it, feeling his claim was just. Nextmorning the seven piglets were returned one by one by various nativechildren. Each piglet had, according to their accounts, been in aseparate garden, and done considerable damage; and 'because they' (thepiglets) 'were the property of a good and just man, the owners of thegardens would not hurt nor even chase them,' etc. Glad to recoverthe squealing little wanderers at any cost, I gave each lying child aquarter-dollar. Next day I had a piece of ground walled in with lumpsof coral and placed the porcine family inside. Then I wrote to thecouncillors, asking them to notify the people that if any of the villagepigs came inside my fence and rooted abyssmal holes in my ground, as hadbeen their habit hitherto, I should demand compensation. His Honour theChief Justice stated in court that this was only fair and right; thewhite man had paid for the damage done by _his_ pigs, and therefore hewas entitled to claim damages if the village pigs caused him trouble.(I had previously squared his Honour with the promise of a male sucker.)One day the seven young pigs escaped from their mother and went out fora run on the village green. They were at once assailed as detestableforeign devils by about two hundred and forty-three gaunt, razorbackedvillage sows, and were only rescued from a cruel death after every onehad lost its tail. Why is it that pigs of different breeds always biteoff each other's tails? I claimed fifty cents per tail, and was awarded$3.50 damages, to be paid by the community generally. The communityrefused to pay. His Honour then notified by the town crier that I wasat liberty to shoot any pig that broke into the station grounds. I puta cartridge into a Snider rifle and told my servants to call me if theyheard a grunt in the night.
Three days after this, as I was discussing theology and baked fowl onenight with the local teacher in his own house, a boy burst in and saidthat there was a strange pig in my garden devouring my crop of Frenchbeans. In two minutes I was back in my house, snatched up the Snider,and ran to the garden wall. There was the brute, a great black-andwhite beast, the biggest native pig I ever saw. His back was turned, buthearing my steps he 'went about' and faced me. 'Twas a bright moonlightnight, and the bullet plugged him fair between the eyes. Over he rolledwithout a kick. Then I heard a shriek or laughter, and saw half a dozengirls scuttling away among the coco-palms. A horrible suspicion nearlymade me faint. Jumping over the wall I examined the defunct, and couldscarce forbear to shed a tear.
'Twas mine own prized black Australian boar, daubed over with splashesof coral lime whitewash. And the whitewash came from a tub full of it,with which the natives had that morning been whitening the walls of thenewly-built village church. The one-eyed old scoundrel of a deacon toldme next day it was a judgment on me.