Savage Island: An Account of a Sojourn in Niué and TongaThomson, Basil
History
Savage Island: An Account of a Sojourn in Niué and Tonga
Thomson, Basil
Niue; Tonga
On the previous afternoon a travelled Niuéan had asked me anxiously
whether the hoisting of the flag entailed _tukuhau_, the Tongan word
for taxes, an institution unknown in Niué save by report, and justly
dreaded on account of the stories brought back by those who had been
in Tonga, where labourers are made to pay £1 16_s._ to the Government
out of their wages. When I reassured him, the good news was passed
down the line of our followers, who received it with enthusiasm. A
repetition of this assurance as regards the immediate future made the
most appropriate peroration to my speech.
The king, who had till now sat like a bronze image, so deeply sunk
in his voluminous draperies that little could be seen of him but his
helmet, now shook himself, and returned thanks in a formal speech, from
which his real feelings could not be gathered; and I, warned by Mr.
Lawes that if I once allowed the pent-up flood of oratory to find an
open sluice, the river of talk would flow far into the night, went over
to shake hands with him and to invite him to come into the school-house
and sign the treaty. In Samoa, in Tonga, or in Fiji, this portion of
the proceedings would have been invested with some solemnity; in Niué
it was a children's game. The treaty was laid upon the schoolmaster's
standing desk, and three separate messengers were despatched to bring
ink, pens, and blotting-paper. The king sat apart in a Windsor chair;
the headmen, under the guise of electing three of their number to
witness the king's signature, were boiling over with jealousy; a troop
of children were playing noisily at the far end of the school-house,
and near us a woman was sitting on the floor, placidly suckling her
baby. Outside three of the club-bearers were haranguing the crowd,
which, having much to say on its own account, did not listen to
them. We had almost to shout to make ourselves heard, until some new
attraction took the fancy of the idlers, the earth shook to the thud of
running feet, and the orators were left to harangue to the babies who
were too tiny to run.
Now a difficulty arose. On the most liberal allotment of space--and
Niuéan calligraphy demanded full measure--there was room in the treaty
for but three signatures besides the king's. Eleven villages, and
space for only three! It meant that three headmen would be represented
to Queen Victoria as pre-eminent above their fellows. Mr. Lawes had
been listening to the discussion, and he hastened to assure me that
unless space could be found for four at least there would be trouble,
for it meant that the headman of Alofi would be left out. The other
seven mattered but little, for they were either amiable nonentities
themselves, or their villages were too insignificant to matter. Room
had to be made for Alofi, but his fingers were so tremulous with
indignation at the suggested insult that they could scarcely hold the
pen.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account