Lolóma, or two years in cannibal-land: A story of old FijiBritton, Henry
History
Lolóma, or two years in cannibal-land: A story of old Fiji
Britton, Henry
Fiji -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Shipwrecks -- Fiction
As we advanced into the depths of the forest, amidst the sombre foliage,
the rank matted grasses, and the festooned canopy of interlacing
parasites, the balmy air of the beach gave place to a hot, moist, and
sickly atmosphere that was very oppressive. But the luxuriant vegetation
of the jungle was of transcendant beauty. Sometimes there was a plot of
grass of a delicate green, wonderfully soft and fragrant, and
illuminated at intervals by the flaming blossoms of the hibiscus and
cactus. The kowrie or dakua grew intermingled with wild nutmegs, which
exhaled a pleasant aroma. An enormous yevu-yevu tree formed a complete
bower in itself. The small white flowers of the ivi emitted a delicious
perfume, and the kavika or malay apple-trees, had densely strewn the
ground beneath their branches with petals and stamens, giving the turf
the appearance of a tesselated pavement. Innumerable creepers and
trailing plants depended from trunk and bough, interlaced with each
other in endless coils, which turned and twisted from the roots of the
large trees, and ascended to the highest branches to fall again in leafy
steps of glossy green, or assume some new fantastic shape, and so shut
out the sun that in some of the shady dells it was impossible to avoid a
chill. The whole neighbourhood was fragrant with the scent of the lemon,
the jasmine, the pine-apple, and the orange. It was only necessary to
stretch forth one’s arm to secure a delightful repast.
We knew that the savages would not be long absent from their fishing
grounds on the reef, and we were very circumspect in our movements,
always retiring to the stranded schooner at nightfall, and keeping
careful watch.
On the third day after our almost miraculous landing on the island the
air was rent by the yells of a hundred Fijians, who had doubtless been
watching us for some time previously, and who had now determined to take
us and our fortress, the wrecked vessel, by assault.
On they came, under cover of the trees, launching at us volley after
volley of arrows, and, what were more formidable, stones from slings.
There was a breeze blowing which diverted the course of the former
missiles to some extent, and many fell short. But the stones rattled
about our ears in very uncomfortable proximity. We had a few guns, but
there were not more than half-a-dozen rounds of ammunition that had not
been hopelessly damaged by the salt-water. However, we kept the savages
at bay by occasionally dropping a man. Firearms were not unknown to
them, having been introduced in another part of the group some years
previously, but they were still very scarce, and our munitions of war
would be considered a great prize, could they be taken.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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