CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
A few days after the discovery of Zeppa by his son, a trading vesselchanced to touch at the island, the captain of which no sooner saw theBritish man-of-war than he lowered his gig, went aboard in a state ofgreat excitement, and told how that, just two days before, he had beenchased by a pirate in latitude so-and-so and longitude something else!
A messenger was immediately sent in hot haste to Sugar-loaf Mountain tosummon Orlando.
"I'm sorry to be obliged to leave you in such a hurry," said CaptainFitzgerald, as they were about to part, "but duty calls, and I mustobey. I promise you, however, either to return here or to send yourmission-vessel for you, if it be available. Rest assured that you shallnot be altogether forsaken."
Having uttered these words of consolation, the captain spread his sailsand departed, leaving Orlando, and his father, Waroonga, Tomeo,Buttchee, Ebony, and Rosco on Sugar-loaf Island.
Several days after this, Waroonga entered the hut of Ongoloo and satdown. The chief was amusing himself at the time by watching his primeminister Wapoota playing with little Lippy, who had become a favouriteat the palace since Zeppa had begun to take notice of her.
"I would palaver with the chief," said the missionary.
"Let Lippy be gone," said the chief.
Wapoota rolled the brown child unceremoniously out of the hut, andcomposed his humorous features into an expression of solemnity.
"My brother," continued the missionary, "has agreed to become aChristian and burn his idols?"
"Yes," replied Ongoloo with an emphatic nod, for he was a man ofdecision. "I like to hear what you tell me. I feel that I am full ofnaughtiness. I felt that before you came here. I have done things thatI knew to be wrong, because I have been miserable after doing them--yet,when in passion, I have done them again. I have wondered why I wasmiserable. Now I know; you tell me the Great Father was whispering tomy spirit. It must be true. I have resisted Him, and He made memiserable. I deserve it. I deserve to die. When any of my men dare toresist me I kill them. I have dared to resist the Great Father, yet Hehas not killed me. Why not? you tell me He is full of love and mercyeven to His rebels! I believe it. You say, He sent His Son Jesus todie for me, and to deliver me from my sins. It is well, I accept thisSaviour--and all my people shall accept Him."
"My brother's voice makes me glad," returned Waroonga; "but while youcan accept this Saviour for yourself, it is not possible to force otherpeople to do so."
"Not possible!" cried the despotic chief, with vehemence. "Do you notknow that I can force my people to do whatever I please?--at least I cankill them if they refuse."
"You cannot do that and, at the same time, be a Christian."
"But," resumed Ongoloo, with a look of, so to speak, fierce perplexity,"I can at all events make them burn their idols."
"True, but that would only make them hate you in their hearts, andperhaps worship their idols more earnestly in secret. No, my brother;there is but one weapon given to Christians, but that is a sharp andpowerful weapon. It is called Love; we must _win_ others to Christ byvoice and example, we may not drive them. It is not permitted. It isnot possible."
The chief cast his frowning eyes on the ground, and so remained for sometime, while the missionary silently prayed. It was a critical moment.The man so long accustomed to despotic power could not easily bring hismind to understand the process of _winning_ men. He did, indeed, knowhow to win the love of his wives and children--for he was naturally ofan affectionate disposition, but as to _winning_ the obedience ofwarriors or slaves--the thing was preposterous! Yet he had sagacityenough to perceive that while he could compel the obedience of thebody--or kill it--he could not compel the obedience of the soul.
"How can I," he said at last, with a touch of indignation still in histone, "I, a chief and a descendant of chiefs, stoop to ask, to beg, myslaves to become Christians? It may not be, I can only command them."
"Woh!" exclaimed Wapoota, unable to restrain his approval of thesentiment.
"You cannot even command yourself, Ongoloo, to be a Christian. How,then, can you command others? It is the Great Father who has put itinto your heart to wish to be a Christian. If you will now take Hisplan, you will succeed. If you refuse, and try your own plan, you shallfail."
"Stay," cried the chief, suddenly laying such a powerful grasp onWaroonga's shoulder, that he winced; "did you not say that part of Hisplan is the forgiveness of enemies?"
"I did."
"Must I, then, forgive the Raturans if I become a Christian?"
"Even so."
"Then it is impossible. What! forgive the men whose forefathers havetried to rob my forefathers of their mountain since our nation firstsprang into being! Forgive the men who have for ages fought with ourfathers, and tried to make slaves of our women and children--though theyalways failed because they are cowardly dogs! Forgive the Raturans?_Never_! Impossible!"
"With man this is impossible. With the Great Father all things arepossible. Leave your heart in His hands, Ongoloo; don't refuse Hisoffer to save you from an unforgiving spirit, as well as from othersins, and that which to you seems impossible will soon become easy."
"No--never!" reiterated the chief with decision, as he cut furtherconversation short by rising and stalking out of the hut, closelyfollowed by the sympathetic Wapoota.
Waroonga was not much depressed by this failure. He knew that truthwould prevail in time, and did not expect that the natural enmity of manwould be overcome at the very first sound of the Gospel. He wastherefore agreeably surprised when, on the afternoon of that same day,Ongoloo entered the hut which had been set apart for him and the twoRatinga chiefs, and said--
"Come, brother, I have called a council of my warriors. Come, you shallsee the working of the Great Father."
The missionary rose at once and went after the chief with muchcuriosity, accompanied by Tomeo and Buttchee: Zeppa and his son, withEbony and the pirate, being still in the mountains.
Ongoloo led them to the top of a small hill on which a sacred hut ortemple stood. Here the prisoners of war used to be slaughtered, andhere the orgies of heathen worship were wont to be practised. Animmense crowd of natives--indeed the entire tribe except the sick andinfirm--crowned the hill. This, however, was no new sight to themissionary, and conveyed no hint of what was pending.
The crowd stood in two orderly circles--the inner one consisting of thewarriors, the outer of the women and children. Both fell back to letthe chief and his party pass.
As the temple-hut was open at one side, its interior, with the horribleinstruments of execution and torture, as well as skulls, bones, andother ghastly evidences of former murder, was exposed to view. On thecentre of the floor lay a little pile of rudely carved pieces of timber,with some loose cocoa-nut fibre beneath them. A small fire burned onsomething that resembled an altar in front of the hut.
The chief, standing close to this fire, cleared his throat and began anaddress with the words, "Men, warriors, women and children, listen!"And they did listen with such rapt attention that it seemed as if notonly ears, but eyes, mouths, limbs, and muscles were engaged in thelistening act, for this mode of address--condescending as it did towomen and children--was quite new to them, and portended somethingunusual.
"Since these men came here," continued the chief, pointing to Waroongaand his friends, "we have heard many wonderful things that have made usthink. Before they came we heard some of the same wonderful things fromthe great white man, whose head is light but whose heart is wise andgood. I have made up my mind, now, to become a Christian. My warriors,my women, my children need not be told what that is. They have all gotears and have heard. I have assembled you here to see my gods burned(he pointed to the pile in the temple), and I ask all who are willing,to join me in making this fire a big one. I cannot compel your souls.I _could_ compel your bodies, but I _will_ not!"
He looked round very fiercely as he said this, as though he still hadhalf a m
ind to kill one or two men to prove his point, and those whostood nearest to him moved uneasily, as though they more than halfexpected him to do some mischief, but the fierce look quickly passedaway, and he went on in gentle, measured tones--
"Waroonga tells me that the Book of the Great Father says, those whobecome Christians must love each other: therefore we must no more hate,or quarrel, or fight, or kill--not even our enemies."
There was evident surprise on every face, and a good deal of decidedshaking of heads, as if such demands were outrageous.
"Moreover, it is expected of Christians that they shall not revengethemselves, but suffer wrong patiently."
The eyebrows rose higher at this.
"Still more; it is demanded that we shall _forgive_ our enemies. If webecome Christians, we must open our arms wide, and take the Raturans toour hearts!"
This was a climax, as Ongoloo evidently intended, for he paused a longtime, while loud expressions of dissent and defiance were heard on allsides, though it was not easy to see who uttered them.
"Now, warriors, women and children, here I am--a Christian--who willjoin me?"
"I will!" exclaimed Wapoota, stepping forward with several idols in hisarms, which he tossed contemptuously into the temple.
There was a general smile of incredulity among the warriors, for Wapootawas well known to be a time-server: nevertheless they were mistaken, forthe jester was in earnest this time.
Immediately after that, an old, white-headed warrior, bent nearly doublewith infirmity and years, came forward and acted as Wapoota had done.Then, turning to the people, he addressed them in a weak, tremblingvoice. There was a great silence, for this was the patriarch of thetribe; had been a lion-like man in his youth, and was greatly respected.
"I join the Christians," he said, slowly. "Have I not lived and foughtfor long--very long?"
"Yes, yes," from many voices.
"And what good has come of it?" demanded the patriarch. "Have not themen of the Mountain fought with the men of the Swamp since the Mountainand the Swamp came from the hand of the Great Father?" (A pause, andagain, "Yes, yes," from many voices.) "And what good has come of it?Here is the Mountain; yonder is the Swamp, as they were from thebeginning; and what the better are we that the swamp has been floodedand the mountain drenched with the blood of our fathers? Hatred hasbeen tried from the beginning of time, and has failed. Let us now, mychildren, try Love, as the Great Father counsels us to do."
A murmur of decided applause followed the old man's speech, and Ongoloo,seizing him by both shoulders, gazed earnestly into his withered face.Had they been Frenchmen, these two would no doubt have kissed eachother's cheeks; if Englishmen, they might have shaken hands warmly;being Polynesian savages, they rubbed noses.
Under the influence of this affectionate act, a number of the warriorsran off, fetched their gods, and threw them on the temple floor. ThenOngoloo, seizing a brand from the fire, thrust it into the loosecocoa-nut fibre, and set the pile in a blaze. Quickly the flames leapedinto the temple thatch, and set the whole structure on fire. As thefire roared and leaped, Waroonga, with Tomeo and Buttchee, started ahymn. It chanced to be one which Zeppa had already taught the people,who at once took it up, and sent forth such a shout of praise as hadnever before echoed among the palm-groves of that island. It confirmedthe waverers, and thus, under the influence of sympathy, the whole tribecame that day to be of one mind!
The sweet strains, rolling over the plains and uplands, reached thecliffs at last, and struck faintly on the ears of a small groupassembled in a mountain cave. The group consisted of Zeppa and his son,Ebony and the pirate.
"It sounds marvellously like a hymn," said Orlando, listening.
"Ah! dear boy, it is one I taught the natives when I stayed with them,"said Zeppa; "but it never reached so far as this before."
Poor Zeppa was in his right mind again, but oh! how weak and wan andthin the raging fever had left him!
Rosco, who was also reduced to a mere shadow of his former self,listened to the faint sound with a troubled expression, for it carriedhim back to the days of innocence, when he sang it at his mother's knee.
"Dat's oncommon strange," said Ebony. "Nebber heard de sound come sofar before. Hope de scoundrils no got hold ob grog."
"Shame on you, Ebony, to suspect such a thing!" said Orlando. "Youwould be better employed getting things ready for to-morrow's journeythan casting imputations on our hospitable friends."
"Dar's not'ing to git ready, massa," returned the negro. "Eberyting'sprepared to start arter breakfust."
"That's well, and I am sure the change to the seashore will do you good,father, as well as Rosco. You've both been too long here. The cave isnot as dry as one could wish--and, then, you'll be cheered by the soundof children playing round you."
"Yes, it will be pleasant to have Lippy running out and in again," saidZeppa.
They did not converse much, for the strength of both Zeppa and Rosco hadbeen so reduced that they could not even sit up long without exhaustion,but Orlando kept up their spirits by prattling away on every subjectthat came into his mind--and especially of the island of Ratinga.
While they were thus engaged they heard the sound of rapidly approachingfootsteps, and next moment Tomeo and Buttchee bounded over the bushes,glaring and panting from the rate at which they had raced up the hill totell the wonderful news!
"Eberyting bu'nt?" exclaimed Ebony, whose eyes and teeth showed so muchwhite that his face seemed absolutely to sparkle.
"Everything. Idols and temple!" repeated the two chiefs, in the Ratingatongue, and in the same breath.
"An' nebber gwine to fight no more?" asked Ebony, with a grin, thatmight be more correctly described as a split, from ear to ear.
"Never more!" replied the chiefs.
Next morning the two invalids were tenderly conveyed on litters down themountain side and over the plain, and before the afternoon had passedaway, they found a pleasant temporary resting-place in the now Christianvillage.
The Madman and the Pirate Page 13