The Call Of The South, George Lewis Becke [best management books of all time txt] 📗

drink, and I will give you a _lava-lava_ (waistcloth)." (He was nude.)

He thanked me, and then again his keen dark eyes were fixed upon Savai'i--three miles distant.

"Art bound to Savai'i?" he asked quickly.

"Nay. We beat against the wind. To-night we anchor at Mulifanua."

"Ah!" and his face changed, "then I must leave, for it is to Savai'i I go," and he was about to go over the rail when we held him back.

"Wait, friend. In a little time the ship will be close in to the passage through the reef at Saleleloga" (a town of Savai'i), "and then as we put the ship about, thou canst go on thy way. Why swim two leagues and tempt the sharks when there is no need. Come below and eat and drink, and have no fear. We shall take thee as near to the passage as we can."

The skipper came below with us, and after providing our visitor with a navy blue waistcloth, we gave him a stiff tumbler of rum, and some bread and meat. He ate quickly and then asked for a smoke, and in a few minutes more we asked him who he was, and why he was swimming across the straits. We spoke in Samoan. "Friends," he said, "I will tell the truth. I am one of the _kau galuega_ (labourers) on Mulifanua Plantation. Yesterday being the Sabbath, and there being no work, I went into the lands of the Samoan village to steal young nuts and _taro_. I had thrown down and husked a score, and was creeping back to my quarters by a side path through the grove, when I was set upon by three young Samoan _manaia_ (bloods) who began beating me with clubs--seeking to murder me. We fought, and I, knowing that death was upon me, killed one man with a blow of my _tori nui_{*} (husking stick) of iron-wood, and then drove it deep into the chest of another. Then I fled, and gaining the beach, ran into the sea so that I might swim to Savai'i, for there will I be safe from pursuit" "'Tis a long swim, man--'tis five leagues." He laughed and expanded his brawny chest "What is that to me? I have swam ten leagues many times."

* A heavy, pointed stick of hardwood, used for husking coconuts.

"Where do you belong?" asked the skipper in English.

He answered partly in the same language and partly in his curious Samoan.

"I am of Anuda.{*} My name is Vanaki. Two years ago I came to Samoa in a German labour ship to work on the plantations, for I wanted to see other places and earn money, and then return to Anuda and speak of the things I had seen. It was a foolish thing of me. The German _suis_ (overseers) are harsh men. I worked very hard on little food. It was for that I had to steal. And I am but one man from Anuda, and there are four hundred others from many islands--black-skinned, man-eating, woolly-haired pigs from the Solomon and New Hebrides, and fierce fellows like these Tafito{**} men from the Gilbert Islands such as I now see here on this ship. No one of them can speak my tongue of Anuda. And now I am a free man."

* Anuda or Cherry Island is an outlier of the Santa Cruz
Group, in the South Pacific. The natives are more of the
Polynesian than the Melanesian type, and are a fine,
stalwart race.

** Tafitos--natives of the Pacific Equatorial Islands such
as the Gilbert Group.

"You are a plucky fellow," said the captain, "and deserve good luck. Here, take this dollar, and tie it up in the corner of your waistcloth. You can buy yourself some tobacco from the white trader at Salelelogo."

"Ah, yes, indeed. But" (and here he dropped into Samoan again, and turned to me) "I would that the good captain would take me as a sailor for his next voyage. I was for five years with Captain Macleod of Noumea. And I am a good man--honest, and no boaster."

I shook my head. "It cannot be. From Mulifanua we go to Apia And there will be news there of what thou hast done yesterday, and we cannot hide a man on this small ship." And then I asked the captain what he thought of the request.

"We ought to try and work it," said the skipper. "If he was five years with Jock Macleod he's all right."

We questioned him further, and he satisfied us as to his _bona-fides_, giving us the names of many men--captains and traders--known to us intimately.

"Vanaki," I said, "this is what may be done, but you must be quick, for presently we shall be close to the passage off Saleleloga, and must go about When you land, go to Miti-loa the chief, and talk to him privately. There is bad blood between his people and those of Mulifanua----"

"I know it It has been so for two years past."

"Now, listen. Miti-loa and the captain here and I are good friends. Tell him that you have seen us. Hide nothing from him of yesterday. He is a strong man."

"I know it Who does not, in this part of Samoa know of Miti-loa?" {*}

"That is true. And Miti knows us two _papalagi_{**} well. Stay with him, work for him, and do all that he may ask. He will ask but little--perhaps nothing. In twenty days from now, this ship will be at Apia ready for sea again. We go to the Tokelaus" (Gilbert Islands) "or else to the Solomons, and if thou comest on board in the night who is to know of it but Miti-loa and thyself?"


* Miti-loa--"Long Dream ".

** White men--foreigners.


The mate put his head under the flap of the skylight "Close on to the reef, sir. Time to go about."

"All right, Carey. Put her round Now Vanaki, up on deck, and over you go."

Vanaki nodded and smiled, and followed us. Then quickly he took off his _lava-lava_, deftly wrapped it about his head like an Indian turban, and held out his hand in farewell, and every one on board cheered as he I leapt over the side, and began his swim to the land.

From the cross-trees I watched him through my glasses, saw him enter the passage into smooth water, and disdaining to rest on any of the exposed and isolated projections of reef which lined the passage, continue his course towards the village. Then a rain squall hid him from view, but we knew that he was safe.

That evening we landed our "recruits" at Mulifanua, and after thoroughly disinfecting the ship, we sailed a few days later for Apia. Here we were again chartered to proceed to the New Hebrides and Solomon Islands for another cruise.

As we were refitting, I received a letter from Miti-loa, telling me that Vanaki was safe, and would be with us in a few days. When he did arrive, he came with Miti-loa himself in his _taumalua_ (native boat) and a score of his people. Vanaki was so well made-up as a Samoan that when he stepped on deck the skipper and I did not recognise him. We sent him below, and told him to keep quiet until we were well under way.

"Ah," said Miti-loa to us, "what a man is he! Such a swimmer was never before seen. My young men have made much of him, and I would he would stay with me."

Vanaki turned out an acquisition to our ship's company, and soon became a favourite with every one. He was highly delighted when he was placed on the articles at the usual rate of wages paid to native seamen--L3 per month. Our crew were natives from all parts of Polynesia, but English was the language used by them generally to each other. Like all vessels in the labour trade we carried a double crew--one to man the boats when recruiting, and one to work the ship when lying "off and on" at any island where we could not anchor, and Vanaki was greatly pleased when I told him that he should have a place in my boat, instead of being put in the "covering"{*} boat.

* The "covering" boat is that which stands by to open fire
if the "landing" boat is attacked.

We made a splendid run down to the Solomons from Samoa, and when in sight of San Cristoval, spoke a French labour vessel from Noumea, recruiting for the French New Hebrides Company. Her captain and his "recruiter" (both Englishmen) paid us a visit. They were old acquaintances of our captain and myself, and as they came alongside in their smart whaleboat and Vanaki saw their faces, he gave a weird yell of delight, and rubbed noses with them the moment they stepped on deck.

"Hallo, Vanaki, my lad," said the skipper of _La Metise_, shaking his hand, "how are you?" Then turning to us he said: "Vanaki was with me when I was mate with Captain Macleod, in the old _Aurore_ of Noumea. He's a rattling good fellow for a native, and I wish I had him with me now. Wherever did you pick him up?"

We told him, and Houston laughed when I narrated the story of Vanaki's swim.

"Oh, that's nothing for him to do. Why, the beggar once swam from the Banks Group across to the Torres Islands. Has he never told you about it?"

"No. And I would hardly believe him if he did. Why, the two groups are fifty miles apart."

"No, from Tog in the Torres Islands to Ureparapara in the Banks Group is a little over forty miles. But you must wheedle the yarn out of him. He's a bit sensitive of talking about it, on account of his at first being told he was a liar by several people. But Macleod, two traders who were passengers with us, and all the crew of the _Aurore_ know the story to be true. We sent an account of it to the Sydney papers."

"I'll get him to tell me some day," I said "I once heard of a native woman swimming from Nanomaga in the Ellice Group to Nanomea--thirty-five miles--but never believed it for a long time."

After spending half an hour with us, our friends went back to their ship, each having shaken hands warmly with Vanaki, and wished him good luck.

It was some days before the captain and I had time to hear Vanaki's story, which I relate as nearly as possible in his own words.

First of all, however, I must mention that Ureparapara or Bligh Island is a well-wooded, fertile spot, about sixteen miles in circumference, and is an extinct crater. It is now the seat of a successful mission. Tog is much smaller, well-wooded, and inhabited, and about nine hundred feet high. At certain times of the year a strong current sets in a northerly and westerly direction, and it is due to this fact that Vanaki accomplished his swim. Now for his story.

"I was in the port watch of the _Aurore_. We came to Ureparapara in the month of June to 'recruit' and got four men. Whilst we were there, Captain Houston (who was then mate of the _Aurore_) asked me if I would dive under the ship and look at her copper; for a week before we had touched