Lolóma, or two years in cannibal-land: A story of old Fiji — John Shaqi
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
Presently we heard the demoniac yells of the savages. They had leaped
upon the schooner, club in hand, and found that the birds had flown.
They searched the vessel diligently, pilfering every article that could
be easily removed. It was then determined that we were hidden in some
part of the hold. They set fire to our craft, and soon the hulk, which
lay exposed on the sand, a hundred yards from the water-line, was
reduced to ashes. In the lurid light of the conflagration we could see
from our leafy cavern the forms of the all but naked Fijians dancing in
hideous glee, and anxiously watching for some sign of their expected
victims in the flames. As soon as they were satisfied that the white men
had escaped, the beach and the forest were scoured in all directions.
Numerous search parties passed close to us, but did not enter the sacred
precincts of the baka tree.
When daylight came, and we were able to see distinctly the sable forms
flitting about the wood, the captain said he thought he recognised a
chief with whom he had had transactions on his former visit to the
Sandalwood coast. He believed now, that with his slight knowledge of the
language and his acquaintance with this chief, we could deliver
ourselves up with safety, and hope to live in comfort until the arrival
of some European vessel. I was opposed to this scheme, having no
confidence whatever in the natives. But I was overruled by my two
companions.
We had each a cutlass and a gun, but no ammunition fit for use. When the
skipper called out that we surrendered, we emerged from our
hiding-place, and walked boldly towards one of the wrecked villages,
which was rapidly being set in order again, threatening the common
people around us with instant death if they offered to molest us. The
head chief of the district, Waikatakata (Hot-Water), who had been
apprised of our coming, awaited us, seated on a large stone at the door
of his roofless house, with his counsellors and a large assemblage
around him.
The captain presented a whale’s tooth, which was one of a number stowed
in the schooner for the purpose of trade, and asked the protection of
the tribe for the white men.
The important personage he addressed, called the Turanga Levu by his
vassals, had, it seemed, had no previous personal acquaintance with
foreigners.
Waikatakata said—“Welcome to the men with shark’s eyes. The people from
beyond where the ocean carries the sky can bring us guns and hatchets,
and help us to punish the insolent foe. We have heard of their prowess
in the kingdom of Bau, and desire that they should make this land their
home.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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