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
The old Chief grew more tender in his tones, and cried, "O Missi, your
head is going wrong; you are losing something, or you would not talk
wild like that! Don't let our people hear you talking about going down
into the earth for rain, or they will never listen to your word or
believe you again."
But I started upon my hazardous job, selecting a spot near the Mission
Station and close to the public path, that my prospective well might be
useful to all. I began to dig, with pick and spade and bucket at hand,
an American axe for a hammer and crowbar, and a ladder for service by
and bye. The good old Chief now told off his men in relays to watch me,
lest I should attempt to take my own life, or do anything outrageous,
saying, "Poor Missi! That's the way with all who go mad. There's no
driving of a notion out of their heads. We must just watch him now. He
will find it harder to work with pick and spade than with his pen, and
when he's tired we'll persuade him to give it up."
I did get exhausted sooner than I expected, toiling under that tropical
sun; but we never own before the Natives that we are beaten; so I went
into the house and filled my vest pocket with large, beautiful
English-made fish-hooks. These are very tempting to the young men as
compared with their own,--skilfully made though they be out of shell,
and serving their purposes wonderfully. Holding up a large hook, I
cried, "One of these to every man who fills and turns over three buckets
out of this hole!"
A rush was made to get the first turn, and back again for another and
another. I kept those on one side who had got a turn, till all the rest
in order had a chance, and bucket after bucket was filled and emptied
rapidly. Still the shaft seemed to lower very slowly, while my
fish-hooks were disappearing very quickly. I was constantly there, and
took the heavy share of everything, and was thankful one evening to find
that we had cleared more than twelve feet deep,--when lo! next morning,
one side had rushed in, and our work was all undone.
The old Chief and his best men now came around me more earnestly than
ever. He remonstrated with me very gravely. He assured me for the
fiftieth time that rain would never be seen coming up through the earth
on Aniwa!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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