The Story of John G. Paton; Or, Thirty Years Among South Sea CannibalsPaton, John Gibson
Religion
The Story of John G. Paton; Or, Thirty Years Among South Sea Cannibals
Paton, John Gibson
Missions -- Vanuatu; Paton, John Gibson, 1824-1907
On Sunday, the 26th January, thirty persons came to worship at the
Mission House. Thereafter, at great risk, we had Worship at three of the
nearest and most friendly villages. Amidst all our perils and trials we
preached the Gospel to about one hundred and sixteen persons. It was
verily a sowing time of tears; but, despite all that followed, who shall
say that it was vain! Twenty years have passed, and now when I am
writing this, there is a Church of God singing the praises of Jesus in
that very district of Tanna. On leaving the second village, a young lad
affectionately took my hand to lead me to the next village; but a sulky,
down-browed savage, carrying a ponderous club, also insisted upon
accompanying us. I led the way, guided by the lad. Mr. Mathieson got the
man to go before him, while he himself followed, constantly watching.
Coming to a place where another path branched off from ours, I asked
which path we took, and, on turning to the left as instructed by the
lad, the savage, getting close behind me, swung his huge club over his
shoulder to strike me on the head. Mr. Mathieson, springing forward,
caught the club from behind with a great cry to me; and I, wheeling
instantly, had hold of the club also, and betwixt us we wrested it out
of his hands. The poor creature, craven at heart however bloodthirsty,
implored us not to kill him. I raised the club threateningly, and caused
him to march in front of us till we reached the next village fence. In
terror lest these villagers should kill him, he gladly received back his
club, as well as the boy his bow and arrows, and they were lost in the
bush in a moment.
At the village from which this man and boy had come, one savage brought
his musket while we were conducting Worship, and sat sullen and scowling
at us all the time. Mocking questions were also shouted at us, such as,
"Who made the rains, winds, and hurricanes? Who caused all the disease?
Who killed Missi Mathieson's child?" They sneered and scoffed at our
answers, and in this Taura the Chief joined the rest.
On the 27th, at daylight, a vessel was seen in the offing, as if to
tantalize us. The Captain had been at the Harbor, and had received my
letter from Nowar. I hoisted a flag to induce him to send or come on
shore, but he sailed off for Aneityum, bearing the plunder of my poor
Mission House, purchased for ammunition and tobacco for the Natives. He
left the news at Aneityum that I had been driven from my Station some
time ago, and was believed to have been murdered.
On the 29th of January, the young Chief Kapuku came and handed to Mr.
Mathieson his own and his father's war-gods and household idols. They
consisted chiefly of a basket of small and peculiar stones, much worn
and shining with use. He said, "While many are trying to kill you and
drive the Worship of Jehovah from this island, I give up my gods, and
will send away all Heathen idols from my land."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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