by Louis Becke
II
But with the dawn there came disappointment keen and bitter, for in thenight the north-east trade had died away, and now wild, swooping rainsqualls pelted and drenched the island from the westward, following eachother in quick succession, and whipping the smooth water inside thereef into a blurred and churning sheet of foam, and then roaring away upthrough the mountain passes and canyons.
With my gear all ready beside me, I sat on the matted floor of thehut in which I lived, smoking my pipe and listening to the fury of thesqualls as the force of the wind bent and swayed the thatched roof, andmade the cinnet-tied rafters and girders creak and work to and fro underthe strain. Suddenly the wicker-work door on the lee side was opened,and Nalik jumped in, dripping with rain, but smiling good-naturedly asusual.
"_Woa!_" he said, taking his long, straight black hair in his hands andsqueezing out the water, "'tis no day for us."
I ventured an opinion that it might clear off soon. He shook his head ashe held out his brown hand for a stiff tot of Hollands, tossed it off,and then sat down to open a small bundle he carried, and which containeda dry jumper and pair of dungaree pants.
Then quickly divesting himself of the soddened girdle of grass aroundhis loins, he put on the European garments, filled his pipe, and beganto talk.
"The wind will soon cease, for these squalls from the westward last notlong at this time of the year; but when the wind ceases, then comes rainfor two days sometimes--not heavy rain such as this, but soft rain asfine as hair, and all the forest is wetted and the mountain paths aredangerous even to our bare feet, and the pigeons give no note, and thesun is dead. So we cannot go to the river to-day. To-morrow perhaps itmay be fine; therefore let us sit and be content."
So we sat and were content, remaining indoors in my own house, orvisiting those of our neighbours, eating, drinking, smoking, andtalking. I was the only white man on the island, and during my threemonths' residence had got to know every man, woman, child, and dogin the village. And my acquaintance with the dogs was very extensive,inasmuch as every one of the thirty-four families owned at least tendogs, all of which had taken kindly to me from the very first. They werethe veriest mongrels that ever were seen in canine form, but in spite ofthat were full of pluck when pig hunting. (I once saw seven or eight ofthem tackle a lean, savage old wild boar in a dried-up taro swamp; twoof them were ripped up, the rest hung on to him by his ears and neck,and were dragged along as if they were as light as feathers, until anative drove a heavy ironwood spear clean through the creature's loins.)
During the evening my native friends, in response to my inquiries aboutthe river, told me that it certainly took its rise from the deep pool Ihave before described, and that had I made a more careful examination Ishould have seen several tiny rivulets, hidden by the dense undergrowth,flowing into it from both sides of the gorge. During severe rains animmense volume of muddy water would rush down; yet, strangely enough,the two kinds of fish which inhabited it were just as plentiful as everas soon as the water cleared.
About four o'clock in the morning, when I was sound in slumber, a voicecalled to me to awaken. It was Nalik.
"Come out and look."
I lifted (not opened) my Venetian-sashed door of pandanus leaf, andstepped out.
What a glorious change! The rain had ceased, and the shore and sea laybright and clear under a myriad-starred sky of deepest blue; the whiteline of surf tumbling on the barrier reef a mile away seemed almostwithin stone-throw. A gentle breeze swayed the fronds of the coco-palmsabove us, and already the countless thousands of sea birds, whose"rookery" was on two small islets within the reef and near the village,were awake, and filling the air with their clamour as they, like us,prepared to start off for their day's fishing.
Our party consisted of--
(1) Nalik, his wife and five dogs.
(2) Three young women, each with several dogs.
(3) Old Sru, chief of the district, with numerous dogs.
(4) Two boys and three girls, who carried baskets of food, crayfishnets, boar-spears, &c. Large number of dogs, male and female.
(5) The white man, to whom, as soon as he appeared, the whole of thedogs immediately attached themselves.
(6) Small boy of ten, named Toka, the terror of the village forhis illimitable impudence and unsurpassed devilry. But as he was aparticular friend of the white man (and could not be prevented) he wasallowed to come. He had three dogs.
Before we started old Sru, Nalik, and myself had some Hollands, twobottles of which were also placed in the care of Nalik's wife. The"devil," as Toka was called, mimicked us as we drank, smacked his lipsand rubbed one hand up and down his stomach. One of the big girls cuffedhim for being saucy. He retaliated by darting between her legs andthrowing her down upon the sand.
Presently we started, the women and children going ahead, with theexception of the "devil," who stuck close to me, and carried my Sniderin one hand and my double-barrel muzzle-loader in the other.
For the first two or three miles our way lay along the hard, whitebeach, whose sands were covered everywhere by millions of tiny,blue-backed, red-legged soldier crabs, moving to and fro in companies,regiments, and divisions, hastening to burrow before the daylightrevealed their presence to their dreaded enemies--the golden-winged sandplovers and the greedy sooty terns, who yet knew how to find them by themyriad small nodules of sand they left to betray their hiding-place.
Oh, the sweet, sweet smell of the forest as it is borne down from themountains and carried seaward, to gladden, it may be, the heart of somehard-worked, broken-spirited sailor, who, in a passing ship, sees fromaloft this fair, fair island with its smiling green of lear, and soft,heaving valleys, above the long lines of curving beach, showing whiteand bright in the morning sun! And, as you walk, the surf upon the reeffor ever calls and calk; sometimes loudly with a deep, resonant boom,but mostly with a soft, faint murmur like the low-breathed sigh of awoman when she lies her cheek upon her lover's breast and looks upwardto his face with eyes aglow and lips trembling for his kiss.
Far, far above a feint note. 'Tis but a snow-white tropic bird,suspended in mid-air on motionless wing, his long scarlet pendricesalmost invisible at such a height. Presently, as he discerns you, helets his aerial, slender form sink and sink, without apparent motion,till he is within fifty feet, and then he turns his graceful head fromside to side, and inquiringly surveys you with his full, soft black eye.For a moment or two he flutters his white wings gently and noiselessly,and you can imagine you hear his timid heart-beats; then, satisfied withhis scrutiny, his fairy, graceful form floats upward into space again,and is lost to view.
Leaving the beach and the sound of the droning surf behind us we turnedto the starboard hand, and struck through the narrow strip of littoraltowards the mountains. For the first mile or so our way was through agrove of pandanus-palms, nearly every one of which was in full fruit; onthe branches were sitting hundreds of small sooty terns, who watchedour progress beneath with the calm indifference borne of the utterconfidence of immunity of danger from any human being.
Once through the sandy stretch on which the pandanus loves to grow,we came to the outlier of the mountain lands--low, gently undulatingridges, covered on both sides of the narrow track with dense thicketsof pineapples, every plant bearing a fruit half-matured, which, whenripened, was never touched by the hand of man, for the whole island was,in places, covered with thickets such as this, and the wild pig onlyrevelled among them.
"They grow thickly," I said to Nalik.
"Ay, _tahina_* they grow thickly and wild," he replied, with someinflection of sadness in his voice; "long, long ago, before my father'sfather lived, there was a great town here. That was long before we ofthis land had ever seen a white man. And now we who are left are but asdead leaves."
* Friend.
"How came it so to be?"
He shook his head. "I cannot tell. I only know that once we of this landnumbered many, many thousands, and now we are but hundreds. Here,
wherewe now walk, was once a great town of houses with stone foundations; ifye cut away the _fara_ (pineapples) thou wilt see the lower stones lyingin the ground."
We pressed onward and upward into the deeper forest, then turneddownwards along a narrow path, carpeted thick with fallen leaves, dampand soft to the foot, for the sun's rays never pierced through the densefoliage overhead. And then we came out upon a fair, green sward withnine stately coco-palms clustered, their branches drooping over theriver of my dreams, which lay before us with open, waiting bosom.
