Journal of Residence in the New Hebrides, S.W. Pacific OceanBice, C. (Charles)
History
Journal of Residence in the New Hebrides, S.W. Pacific Ocean
Bice, C. (Charles)
Missions -- Vanuatu
very prevalent here, and it looks very odd to see men and women with
great swollen legs and feet and monster hands and arms. However, those
afflicted with it do not seem to suffer so much pain as discomfort.
We reached our destination after a somewhat weary walk on account of the
dampness of the roads after the heavy rain in the night. I found a nice
new school, and the teachers awaiting my arrival. The population is
small, but the people are well-intentioned and anxious for instruction
as exhibited by their having built the school entirely themselves. The
leading spirit there and his wife came to-day and asked for Baptism, and
desired that they should at once be put under instruction for that
sacred Rite. This was cheering, and I hope the example thus set will be
largely followed. Food according to native custom had been prepared, and
green cocoanuts, and we spent some considerable time with the kind
hearted people. They have only an inferior teacher, but he is very
zealous to do his best according to the amount of wisdom and knowledge
he possesses. They have some sort of daily service and school, but it
must of necessity be very elementary.
It is etiquette here for the host or someone appointed by him to see you
off the premises, and this afternoon we were escorted some distance from
the village by most of the male population, and when at what was looked
upon as a respectable distance they stepped to one side, a sign that
that was the last we should have of their society, and calling my name
the host said, “Iya, go sage,” which is perhaps equal to “There, you go
up,” to which I was supposed to respond calling his name, “Io, go toga,”
“All right, you stop.” We then started for home. Arriving at Na Ruru the
major part of the population were awaiting us, and Anthony the teacher
with them, fear has driven him and his little flock to take refuge here,
the third exodus they have made from their homes, and it is hoped that
at last they will be safe from the ruthless incursions of the heathen
bushmen. Poor fellow, he had begun to build a substantial new church,
which was left with the other houses in their precipitate flight, but
nothing daunted he has begun a third time to collect materials for
another building. Had they continued however where they were, I doubt if
they would have been molested. The only excuse for so doing would have
been that they were friends of the villagers attacked by the bushmen. We
sat for some time in conversation with the friendly people until the
sinking sun warned us to be up and moving homewards. After prayers and
singing, which we always have by an unvariable custom instead of school
on Wednesday evenings, I received a request from some heathen strangers,
twenty in number, that they might dance before me. I assented, and now
at a late hour they are still at it, and going ahead with such vigour
that I do not like to stop them. This dance is a piece of policy, for I
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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