CHAPTER III
THE MISSIONARY
As I came out on the verandah, the mission-boat was shooting for themouth of the river. She was a long whale-boat painted white; a bit of anawning astern; a native pastor crouched on the wedge of the poop,steering; some four-and-twenty paddles flashing and dipping, true to theboat-song; and the missionary under the awning, in his white clothes,reading in a book, and set him up! It was pretty to see and hear;there's no smarter sight in the islands than a missionary boat with agood crew and a good pipe to them; and I considered it for half aminute, with a bit of envy perhaps, and then strolled down towards theriver.
From the opposite side there was another man aiming for the same place,but he ran and got there first. It was Case; doubtless his idea was tokeep me apart from the missionary, who might serve me as interpreter;but my mind was upon other things. I was thinking how he had jockeyed usabout the marriage, and tried his hand on Uma before, and at the sightof him rage flew into my nostrils.
"Get out of that, you low swindling thief!" I cried.
"What's that you say?" says he.
I gave him the word again, and rammed it down with a good oath. "And ifever I catch you within six fathoms of my house," I cried, "I'll clap abullet in your measly carcase."
"You must do as you like about your house," said he, "where I told youI have no thought of going; but this is a public place."
"It's a place where I have private business," said I. "I have no idea ofa hound like you eavesdropping, and I give you notice to clear out."
"I don't take it, though," says Case.
"I'll show you, then," said I.
"We'll have to see about that," said he.
He was quick with his hands, but he had neither the height nor theweight, being a flimsy creature alongside a man like me, and, besides, Iwas blazing to that height of wrath that I could have bit into a chisel.I gave him first the one and then the other, so that I could hear hishead rattle and crack, and he went down straight.
"Have you had enough?" cried I. But he only looked up white and blank,and the blood spread upon his face like wine upon a napkin. "Have youhad enough?" I cried again. "Speak up, and don't lie malingering there,or I'll take my feet to you."
He sat up at that, and held his head--by the look of him you could seeit was spinning--and the blood poured on his pyjamas.
"I've had enough for this time," says he, and he got up staggering, andwent off by the way that he had come.
The boat was close in; I saw the missionary had laid his book to oneside, and I smiled to myself. "He'll know I'm a man, anyway," thinks I.
This was the first time, in all my years in the Pacific, I had everexchanged two words with any missionary, let alone asked one for afavour. I didn't like the lot--no trader does; they look down upon us,and make no concealment; and, besides, they're partly Kanakaised, andsuck up with natives instead of with other white men like themselves. Ihad on a rig of clean striped pyjamas--for, of course, I had dresseddecent to go before the chiefs; but when I saw the missionary step outof this boat in the regular uniform, white duck clothes, pith helmet,white shirt and tie, and yellow boots to his feet, I could have bungedstones at him. As he came nearer, queering me pretty curious (because ofthe fight, I suppose), I saw he looked mortal sick, for the truth was hehad a fever on, and had just had a chill in the boat.
"Mr. Tarleton, I believe?" says I, for I had got his name.
"And you, I suppose, are the new trader?" says he.
"I want to tell you first that I don't hold with missions," I went on,"and that I think you and the likes of you do a sight of harm, fillingup the natives with old wives' tales and bumptiousness."
"You are perfectly entitled to your opinions," says he, looking a bitugly, "but I have no call to hear them."
"It so happens that you've got to hear them," I said. "I'm nomissionary, nor missionary lover; I'm no Kanaka, nor favourer ofKanakas--I'm just a trader; I'm just a common, low-down, God-damnedwhite man and British subject, the sort you would like to wipe yourboots on. I hope that's plain!"
"Yes, my man," said he. "It's more plain than creditable. When you aresober, you'll be sorry for this."
He tried to pass on, but I stopped him with my hand. The Kanakas werebeginning to growl. Guess they didn't like my tone, for I spoke to thatman as free as I would to you.
"Now, you can't say I've deceived you," said I, "and I can go on. I wanta service--I want two services, in fact--and, if you care to give methem, I'll perhaps take more stock in what you call your Christianity."
He was silent for a moment. Then he smiled. "You are rather a strangesort of man," says he.
"I'm the sort of man God made me," says I. "I don't set up to be agentleman," I said.
"I am not quite so sure," said he. "And what can I do for you, Mr.----?"
"Wiltshire," I says, "though I'm mostly called Welsher; but Wiltshireis the way it's spelt, if the people on the beach could only get theirtongues about it. And what do I want? Well, I'll tell you the firstthing. I'm what you call a sinner--what I call a sweep--and I want youto help me make it up to a person I've deceived."
He turned and spoke to his crew in the native. "And now I am at yourservice," said he, "but only for the time my crew are dining. I must bemuch farther down the coast before night. I was delayed at Papa-malulutill this morning, and I have an engagement in Fale-alii to-morrownight."
I led the way to my house in silence, and rather pleased with myself forthe way I had managed the talk, for I like a man to keep hisself-respect.
"I was sorry to see you fighting," says he.
"O, that's part of the yarn I want to tell you," I said. "That's servicenumber two. After you've heard it you'll let me know whether you'resorry or not."
We walked right in through the store, and I was surprised to find Umahad cleared away the dinner things. This was so unlike her ways that Isaw she had done it out of gratitude, and liked her the better. She andMr. Tarleton called each other by name, and he was very civil to herseemingly. But I thought little of that; they can always find civilityfor a Kanaka, it's us white men they lord it over. Besides, I didn'twant much Tarleton just then. I was going to do my pitch.
"Uma," said I, "give us your marriage certificate." She looked put out."Come," said I, "you can trust me. Hand it up."
She had it about her person, as usual; I believe she thought it was apass to heaven, and if she died without having it handy she would go tohell. I couldn't see where she put it the first time, I couldn't see nowwhere she took it from; it seemed to jump into her hand like thatBlavatsky business in the papers. But it's the same way with all islandwomen, and I guess they're taught it when young.
"Now," said I, with the certificate in my hand, "I was married to thisgirl by Black Jack the negro. The certificate was wrote by Case, andit's a dandy piece of literature, I promise you. Since then I've foundthat there's a kind of cry in the place against this wife of mine, andso long as I keep her I cannot trade. Now, what would any man do in myplace, if he was a man?" I said. "The first thing he would do is this, Iguess." And I took and tore up the certificate and bunged the pieces onthe floor.
"_Aue_!"[3] cried Uma, and began to clap her hands; but I caught one ofthem in mine.
"And the second thing that he would do," said I, "if he was what I wouldcall a man and you would call a man, Mr. Tarleton, is to bring the girlright before you or any other missionary, and to up and say: 'I waswrong married to this wife of mine, but I think a heap of her, and now Iwant to be married to her right.' Fire away, Mr. Tarleton. And I guessyou'd better do it in native; it'll please the old lady," I said, givingher the proper name of a man's wife upon the spot.
So we had in two of the crew for to witness, and were spliced in our ownhouse; and the parson prayed a good bit, I must say--but not so long assome--and shook hands with the pair of us.
"Mr. Wiltshire," he says, when he had made out the lines and packed offthe witnesses, "I have to thank you for a very lively pleasu
re. I haverarely performed the marriage ceremony with more grateful emotions."
That was what you would call talking. He was going on, besides, withmore of it, and I was ready for as much taffy as he had in stock, for Ifelt good. But Uma had been taken up with something half through themarriage, and cut straight in.
"How your hand he get hurt?" she asked.
"You ask Case's head, old lady," says I.
She jumped with joy, and sang out.
"You haven't made much of a Christian of this one," says I to Mr.Tarleton.
"We didn't think her one of our worst," says he, "when she was atFale-alii; and if Uma bears malice I shall be tempted to fancy she hasgood cause."
"Well, there we are at service number two," said I. "I want to tell youour yarn, and see if you can let a little daylight in."
"Is it long?" he asked.
"Yes," I cried; "it's a goodish bit of a yarn!"
"Well, I'll give you all the time I can spare," says he, looking at hiswatch. "But I must tell you fairly, I haven't eaten since five thismorning, and, unless you can let me have something, I am not likely toeat again before seven or eight to-night."
"By God, we'll give you dinner!" I cried.
I was a little caught up at my swearing, just when all was goingstraight; and so was the missionary, I suppose, but he made believe tolook out of the window, and thanked us.
So we ran him up a bit of a meal. I was bound to let the old lady have ahand in it, to show off, so I deputised her to brew the tea. I don'tthink I ever met such tea as she turned out. But that was not the worst,for she got round with the salt-box, which she considered an extraEuropean touch, and turned my stew into sea-water. Altogether, Mr.Tarleton had a devil of a dinner of it; but he had plenty entertainmentby the way, for all the while that we were cooking, and afterwards, whenhe was making believe to eat, I kept posting him up on Master Case andthe beach of Falesa, and he putting questions that showed he wasfollowing close.
"Well," said he at last, "I am afraid you have a dangerous enemy. Thisman Case is very clever, and seems really wicked. I must tell you I havehad my eye on him for nearly a year, and have rather had the worst ofour encounters. About the time when the last representative of yourfirm ran so suddenly away, I had a letter from Namu, the native pastor,begging me to come to Falesa at my earliest convenience, as his flockwere all 'adopting Catholic practices.' I had great confidence in Namu;I fear it only shows how easily we are deceived. No one could hear himpreach and not be persuaded he was a man of extraordinary parts. All ourislanders easily acquire a kind of eloquence, and can roll out andillustrate, with a great deal of vigour and fancy, second-hand sermons;but Namu's sermons are his own, and I cannot deny that I have found themmeans of grace. Moreover, he has a keen curiosity in secular things,does not fear work, is clever at carpentering, and has made himself somuch respected among the neighbouring pastors that we call him, in ajest which is half serious, the Bishop of the East. In short, I wasproud of the man; all the more puzzled by his letter, and took anoccasion to come this way. The morning before my arrival, Vigours hadbeen sent on board the _Lion_, and Namu was perfectly at his ease,apparently ashamed of his letter, and quite unwilling to explain it.This, of course, I could not allow, and he ended by confessing that hehad been much concerned to find his people using the sign of the cross,but since he had learned the explanation his mind was satisfied. ForVigours had the Evil Eye, a common thing in a country of Europe calledItaly, where men were often struck dead by that kind of devil, and itappeared the sign of the cross was a charm against its power.
"'And I explain it, Misi,' said Namu, 'in this way: The country inEurope is a Popey country, and the devil of the Evil Eye may be aCatholic devil, or, at least, used to Catholic ways. So then I reasonedthus: If this sign of the cross were used in a Popey manner it would besinful, but when it is used only to protect men from a devil, which is athing harmless in itself, the sign too must be, as a bottle is neithergood nor bad, harmless. For the sign is neither good nor bad. But if thebottle be full of gin, the gin is bad; and if the sign be made inidolatry bad, so is the idolatry.' And, very like a native pastor, hehad a text apposite about the casting out of devils.
"'And who has been telling you about the Evil Eye?' I asked.
"He admitted it was Case. Now, I am afraid you will think me verynarrow, Mr. Wiltshire, but I must tell you I was displeased, and cannotthink a trader at all a good man to advise or have an influence upon mypastors. And, besides, there had been some flying talk in the country ofold Adams and his being poisoned, to which I had paid no great heed; butit came back to me at the moment.
"'And is this Case a man of a sanctified life?' I asked.
"He admitted he was not; for, though he did not drink, he was profligatewith women, and had no religion.
"'Then,' said I, 'I think the less you have to do with him the better.'
"But it is not easy to have the last word with a man like Namu. He wasready in a moment with an illustration. 'Misi,' said he, 'you have toldme there were wise men, not pastors, not even holy, who knew many thingsuseful to be taught--about trees, for instance, and beasts, and to printbooks, and about the stones that are burned to make knives of. Such menteach you in your college, and you learn from them, but take care not tolearn to be unholy. Misi, Case is my college.'
"I knew not what to say. Mr. Vigours had evidently been driven out ofFalesa by the machinations of Case, and with something not very unlikethe collusion of my pastor. I called to mind it was Namu who hadreassured me about Adams and traced the rumour to the ill-will of thepriest. And I saw I must inform myself more thoroughly from an impartialsource. There is an old rascal of a chief here, Faiaso, whom I daresayyou saw to-day at the council; he has been all his life turbulent andsly, a great fomenter of rebellions, and a thorn in the side of themission and the island. For all that he is very shrewd, and, except inpolitics or about his own misdemeanours, a teller of the truth. I wentto his house, told him what I had heard, and besought him to be frank. Ido not think I had ever a more painful interview. Perhaps you willunderstand me, Mr. Wiltshire, if I tell you that I am perfectly seriousin these old wives' tales with which you reproached me, and as anxiousto do well for these islands as you can be to please and to protect yourpretty wife. And you are to remember that I thought Namu a paragon, andwas proud of the man as one of the first ripe fruits of the mission. Andnow I was informed that he had fallen in a sort of dependence upon Case.The beginning of it was not corrupt; it began, doubtless, in fear andrespect, produced by trickery and pretence; but I was shocked to findthat another element had been lately added, that Namu helped himself inthe store, and was believed to be deep in Case's debt. Whatever thetrader said, that Namu believed with trembling. He was not alone inthis; many in the village lived in a similar subjection; but Namu's casewas the most influential, it was through Namu Case had wrought mostevil; and with a certain following among the chiefs, and the pastor inhis pocket, the man was as good as master of the village. You knowsomething of Vigours and Adams, but perhaps you have never heard of oldUnderhill, Adams' predecessor. He was a quiet, mild old fellow, Iremember, and we were told he had died suddenly: white men die verysuddenly in Falesa. The truth, as I now heard it, made my blood runcold. It seems he was struck with a general palsy, all of him dead butone eye, which he continually winked. Word was started that the helplessold man was now a devil, and this vile fellow Case worked upon thenatives' fears, which he professed to share, and pretended he durst notgo into the house alone. At last a grave was dug, and the living bodyburied at the far end of the village. Namu, my pastor, whom I had helpedto educate, offered up a prayer at the hateful scene.
"I felt myself in a very difficult position. Perhaps it was my duty tohave denounced Namu and had him deposed. Perhaps I think so now, but atthe time it seemed less clear. He had a great influence, it might provegreater than mine. The natives are prone to superstition; perhaps bystirring them up I might but ingrain and spread these dangerous fancies.And Namu besi
des, apart from this novel and accursed influence, was agood pastor, an able man, and spiritually minded. Where should I lookfor a better? How was I to find as good? At that moment, with Namu'sfailure fresh in my view, the work of my life appeared a mockery; hopewas dead in me. I would rather repair such tools as I had than go abroadin quest of others that must certainly prove worse; and a scandal is, atthe best, a thing to be avoided when humanly possible. Right or wrong,then, I determined on a quiet course. All that night I denounced andreasoned with the erring pastor, twitted him with his ignorance and wantof faith, twitted him with his wretched attitude, making clean theoutside of the cup and platter, callously helping at a murder,childishly flying in excitement about a few childish, unnecessary, andinconvenient gestures; and long before day I had him on his knees andbathed in the tears of what seemed a genuine repentance. On Sunday Itook the pulpit in the morning, and preached from First Kings,nineteenth, on the fire, the earthquake, and the voice, distinguishingthe true spiritual power, and referring with such plainness as I daredto recent events in Falesa. The effect produced was great, and it wasmuch increased when Namu rose in his turn and confessed that he had beenwanting in faith and conduct, and was convinced of sin. So far, then,all was well; but there was one unfortunate circumstance. It was nearingthe time of our 'May' in the island, when the native contributions tothe missions are received; it fell in my duty to make a notification onthe subject, and this gave my enemy his chance, by which he was not slowto profit.
"News of the whole proceedings must have been carried to Case as soonas church was over, and the same afternoon he made an occasion to meetme in the midst of the village. He came up with so much intentness andanimosity that I felt it would be damaging to avoid him.
"'So,' says he, in native, 'here is the holy man. He has been preachingagainst me, but that was not in his heart. He has been preaching uponthe love of God; but that was not in his heart, it was between histeeth. Will you know what was in his heart?' cries he. 'I will show ityou!' And, making a snatch at my head he made believe to pluck out adollar, and held it in the air.
"There went that rumour through the crowd with which Polynesians receivea prodigy. As for myself, I stood amazed. The thing was a commonconjuring trick which I have seen performed at home a score of times;but how was I to convince the villagers of that? I wished I had learnedlegerdemain instead of Hebrew, that I might have paid the fellow outwith his own coin. But there I was; I could not stand there silent, andthe best I could find to say was weak.
"'I will trouble you not to lay hands on me again,' said I.
"'I have no such thought,' said he, 'nor will I deprive you of yourdollar. Here it is,' he said, and flung it at my feet. I am told it laywhere it fell three days."
"I must say it was well played," said I.
"O! he is clever," said Mr. Tarleton, "and you can now see for yourselfhow dangerous. He was a party to the horrid death of the paralytic; heis accused of poisoning Adams; he drove Vigours out of the place by liesthat might have led to murder; and there is no question but he has nowmade up his mind to rid himself of you. How he means to try we have noguess; only be sure it's something new. There is no end to his readinessand invention."
"He gives himself a sight of trouble," says I. "And after all, whatfor?"
"Why, how many tons of copra may they make in this district?" asked themissionary.
"I daresay as much as sixty tons," says I.
"And what is the profit to the local trader?" he asked.
"You may call it three pounds," said I.
"Then you can reckon for yourself how much he does it for," said Mr.Tarleton. "But the more important thing is to defeat him. It is clear hespread some report against Uma, in order to isolate and have his wickedwill of her. Failing of that, and seeing a new rival come upon thescene, he used her in a different way. Now, the first point to find outis about Namu. Uma, when people began to leave you and your motheralone, what did Namu do?"
"Stop away all-e-same," says Uma.
"I fear the dog has returned to his vomit," said Mr. Tarleton. "And nowwhat am I to do for you? I will speak to Namu, I will warn him he isobserved; it will be strange if he allow anything to go on amiss when heis put upon his guard. At the same time, this precaution may fail, andthen you must turn elsewhere. You have two people at hand to whom youmight apply. There is, first of all, the priest, who might protect youby the Catholic interest; they are a wretchedly small body, but theycount two chiefs. And then there is old Faiaso. Ah! if it had been someyears ago you would have needed no one else; but his influence is muchreduced; it has gone into Maea's hands, and Maea, I fear, is one ofCase's jackals. In fine, if the worst comes to the worst, you must sendup or come yourself to Fale-alii, and, though I am not due at this endof the island for a month, I will just see what can be done."
So Mr. Tarleton said farewell; and half an hour later the crew weresinging and the paddles flashing in the missionary boat.
FOOTNOTE:
[3] Alas!
The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 17 Page 15