Two Years with the Natives in the Western PacificSpeiser, Felix
History
Two Years with the Natives in the Western Pacific
Speiser, Felix
Ethnology -- Vanuatu; Vanuatu -- Description and travel
The village turned out to be too dirty to spend the night in, and I
decided to go to one which seemed quite near, just across a gully. Had
I known what an undertaking it would be, I would not have started,
for the ravine was very deep and the sides unpleasantly steep;
but my boys managed the descent, over rocks and fallen trees, with
their usual cleverness. At the bottom we were rewarded by a beautiful
sight. Beneath us, in a narrow cut it had eaten through the rock,
roared a river, foaming out of the depths of the dark wilderness. It
was like one of the celebrated gorges in the Alps, only the tropical
vegetation which hung in marvellous richness and variety over the
abyss gave a fairy-like aspect to the scene. The boys did not seem
to appreciate it in the least, and prepared, sighing, for the steep
ascent. A simple bridge led across the gully; it was made of a few
trees, and even provided with a railing in the shape of a vine. The
existence of this bridge surprised me very much; for, considering
the thoughtless egotism with which the natives pass through life, I
had thought them incapable of any work of public utility. They rarely
think of repairing a road or cutting a vine, nor do they remove trees
that may have fallen across the path, but always rely on others to
see to it.
The second village was not much cleaner than the first, but we camped
there, and the next day I went with the moli and a few of my boys to
the western mountains. The natives warned us, saying that the people
were "no good" and would kill us. But, for one thing, I could not
see that they themselves were particularly "good," and, for another,
I knew that all natives consider other tribes especially dangerous;
so I stuck to my intention, only we hung all our available weapons
about us, leaving the rest of the boys defenceless.
This turned out one of the most strenuous days I ever had in the
islands, as the road--and what a road!--constantly led up and down
the steepest slopes. It seemed to me we were climbing perpendicular
mountains all day long, and I had many an opportunity of admiring the
agility of my companions. I am a fair walker myself, but I had to crawl
on my hands and knees in many spots where they jumped from a stone to
a root, taking firm hold with their toes, never using their hands,
never slipping, and always with a loaded and cocked rifle on their
shoulders. My boys from the coast, good pedestrians though they were,
always remained far behind.
First we reached well-tended taro fields, then a few scattered
huts. The natives received us very kindly, and more men kept joining
us, till we formed a big, jolly crowd. The population here seemed very
primitive, and evidently had but little contact with the shore, but
they were clean and comparatively healthy and flourishing, and I found
them rather more frank, childlike and confiding than others I had seen.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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