From Hiva-oa we went to Fatou Hiva, then to the Paumotu group that sparkled like Isles2 of Eden in the vast shining water-tracks of the Pacific; for miles and miles there are islands dotted, and I felt some of the enthusiasm that R.L.S. felt when he visited the same Islands, and he did not exaggerate about the beauty and novelty of the Marquesas and Paumotus group. I heard him telling some friends of his experiences at Hiva-oa and elsewhere as he delightedly told them anecdotes3 of Marquesan etiquette4, and I daresay I saw him writing some of the experiences which he gave to the world in his books, for one day in Apia, while I was having some dinner in the German Hotel, I sauntered around and, gazing through one of the doors, saw Stevenson quite alone, sitting at a little table with a bundle of paper by him, writing; he stooped very much while he was writing, which must have been very bad for anyone who suffered from chest complaint.
By his side was a glass of something; he was quite oblivious5 to all around him, and did not notice anything. I think he often went to that silent hotel room so as to get away from everyone and write.
208A gentleman came into the bar while I was there, and walking towards the door of the room wherein Stevenson was writing he was spotted6 by the hotel manager, who shouted to him that the room was engaged, and I believe Stevenson tipped the manager of the hotel so as to be left to himself.
After calling at Society Islands we left for Samoa, where once again I met the incorrigible7 Hornecastle. He had been away to the Solomon Group, and as I strolled out the next morning after my arrival, I met him on the beach in a hot argument with two Samoan sailors, who were demanding their wages.
“Not a God-damned cent,” Hornecastle was shouting, as I came up. It appeared they had contracted to do a week’s job and had done one day of it and then demanded the full week’s money. That was real Samoan all over, especially those who were Christianised; they were terrible hypocrites; would do you by tricks, and then go off to the mission class and shout “Me good Samoan mans, all good, no steal. Halee, hal-ee ju-ja!” rolling their eyes skyward terrifically the whole time. Some of them are really serious in their belief and they are then very dangerous. I met a fierce-looking fellow one night and he started to try and reform me. I was sitting talking to Hornecastle and two Americans at the time, and they had been giving him a drink or two and then they started to chaff8 him about the missionaries9, and I laughed at something Hornecastle said about a missionary10 who had married; in a 209moment he lifted a knife, and if I had not dodged11 swiftly I should have had it in my ribs12 up to the hilt.
He was not a full-blooded Samoan. I have never seen a Samoan who had once accepted your friendship turn traitor13 afterwards. But even the true Samoans are not so trustworthy when they have got the religious mania14 on them; they are a superstitious15 people, and the solemn-voiced missionaries chanting into their childish ears create extraordinary illusions in their minds. Some go raving16 mad and others go off to the other Isles and live a life of isolation17 and devote all their remaining days to begging the one great white God to save them from hell fire. I have seen them myself in this miserable18 state, deserted19 by all their relatives, and when they become dangerous they often suddenly disappear, for the Samoans quietly finish them off on dark nights! They club them and bury them with sorrow in their hearts, just the same as Europeans do, only our methods are perhaps the unkindest—we bury our insane in an asylum20 and they bury them under the forest earth and flowers. They do have lunatic asylums21 in the Islands, but they are for the milder cases, and the Government found that the incarcerating22 principle was very much abused, for the Samoans soon got to know of the free food, lodgings23 and comforts of the asylums of the South Seas, and drastic measures had to be taken to end the numerous cases of mild madness that kept seizing Samoans and Fijians who were down on their luck and wanted 210a rest. I do not know what the South Sea Islands are like now, but when I was there penal24 servitude was one of the greatest honours that could be conferred on the middle-class Fijians, Tongans, and Samoans, for they got food in the prisons that they only smelt25 outside, also warm comfortable beds, and when the discharge day arrived they could be seen leaving the prison gate wailing26 bitterly over the cruel flight of time! Nor is this an attempt of mine to be funny. I have seen the natives deliberately27 come on to a schooner28’s deck, and right in front of my eyes start to unscrew the cabin skylight to steal it, so that they could get, as they say, “in pison place.”
Again I fell in with a “new chum” who had just arrived and cleared from a schooner. Together we secured positions as superintendent29 post-diggers for the German Commissioners30.
We had several natives under us. It was a look-out job; we had to watch and see that they toiled31 without cessation. At first we were kind to them, but it did not pay; the natives were very much like children, they soon took advantage, and so we soon changed our manner, looked stern as charity organisation33 officials, and once more obtained the approval of Van Haustein, the head overseer.
We had been extremely short of cash. The storekeepers required the wherewithal down (as elsewhere) before parting with necessaries which we had not got, and which we anxiously needed to make us respectable Samoan citizens. We did not stick 211the job more than two weeks. It was squally weather the whole time, and my eyes often inclined seaward as longing34 thoughts came to me of home and England.
About this time I once more met Stevenson. It was a wild night. I had just returned from a short cruise to one of the off Isles of the main Samoan group; rain was falling heavily, in true South Sea style. I had taken refuge in a native bungalow35 by Apia beach. Close by lived my friend the Samoan shell-seller, whom I have before mentioned. We were almost drenched36 to the skin, and were talking with some natives and an old shell-back who also had taken shelter, when out of the darkness, across the open track, came hurrying Stevenson. He was dressed in a large extemporised hood37 of sail-canvas to protect him from the torrent38 of rain, probably lent to him by some friendly trading skipper. Breathless he stood beside us, was quite chummy with the natives, and seemed in a most amiable39 mood; he was smoking, talking to the natives one side in Samoan and joking with the shell-back, who “sir-ed” him, the other side. It was a terrible night. As we stood there we could hear the seas thundering against the barrier-reefs as they rebounded40 heavily and threw their manes of spray shoreward, where lay the wrecked41 warship42 Adler with a broken back, high and dry, thrown up by the hurricane of some time back. Overhead moaned the bending coco-palms that stood scattered43 about amongst the native bungalows44. Soon the roof of our shelter started to 212badly leak, whereupon we all decided45 to make a dive for the old shell-seller’s home, hard by. Stevenson led the way, enjoying the venture, laughing and running like a schoolboy. Though the distance was only a hundred yards or so, we all received a good soaking, Stevenson excepted, who held his canvas sail-sheet with arms outstretched as he ran, making a sheltering roof over his head. The shell-seller was asleep on his mat, but upon our arrival at once got up. He slept “all standing,” in the middle-class South Sea style, and was not overburdened with clothes. Lighting46 his candles, he did his best to welcome and entertain us. As I have before said, the walls, indeed his home itself, seemed composed of shining shells, all the varieties of the South Seas, pearl, red, white and glittering rows, small ones and some weighing half-a-hundredweight, made up the length and breadth of his walls, beautiful shapes and curves, glittering as they reflected the candle gleams. As we all stood gazing in the gloom, Stevenson forgot the late hour and the rain, and with enthusiasm went off into natural history as the old fellow, who was an enthusiast47 in his art, got very delighted to be able to expatiate48 over the various specimens49, the depths and dangers he had encountered whilst gathering50 together his vast shell tribe. He was overjoyed when Stevenson bargained with him for a quantity, and salaamed51 in a ridiculous way, till Stevenson’s mouth curved with humour as he strove to be polite to the old chap every time that his garment, a torn sailor’s shirt, touched the ground in front as he bowed! 213I do not know if that particular shell-house has been described by visitors to Apia of that time; if not, it should certainly have been numbered amongst the curio sights, both for its ingenious construction and for the combined artistic52 and commercial instinct of the Polynesians that it revealed. As we stood smoking in the doorway53 that faced inland, we could hear the songs and laughter of traders and sailors who drank deeply in the small grog shanty54 not far off. I have no doubt that Stevenson did not seek its shelter because of its extra gloomy side rooms kept by dubious55 Samoan women, and to be seen going in or out on a dark night would not enhance the reputation of anyone. It must have then been close on midnight; the rain suddenly ceased sufficiently56 to encourage us all to go out and venture on a run for it. Between the squalls we all made headway, tacking57 from bungalow to bungalow; some of the inhabitants we found awake, squatting58 just inside the door-hole. As we dodged from shelter to shelter Stevenson seemed to enjoy the whole thing as much as a boy on a truant59 night out. Of course, we all were familiar enough with native homes, but the late hour, the rain-dodging, the jovial60 receptions we had as we suddenly all scrambled61 into them without ceremony, was an experience that had a deal of novelty in it, and at times whilst we were on flight strikingly weird62, for as the moon overhead burst through the flying scud63, Stevenson with his oilskin canvas sail stretched out by his extended arms flapping looked like some forest fiend running, 214only his long tight-breeched legs revealed as he flew ahead of us all across the moonlit track to the next shelter. As I write it seems like a dream to me that the lively boyish-mannered man of that stormy night in Apia years ago was the now idealised poet and author, Robert Louis Stevenson.
Loading Bananas
Before I left the Islands I went off on a schooner to Ellice Islands and then on to Santa Cruz and called at the Islands of the Solomon Group. In a typhoon that struck us fifty miles north of Rotuma we lost the chief mate, Herberts, and a Chinaman who was a deck hand. I was asleep on deck at the time right aft, snug64 by the stern sheets. Before I went to sleep the night was calm and clear, the stars shining brilliantly all around, and we were just drifting to a lazy breeze at about four knots an hour. Suddenly I was awakened65 by a terrible crash and an awful typhoon was on; the seas were rising rapidly and it seemed that hail and rain were falling in a deluge66, but the sky was quite clear overhead, for it was the rifts67 of the waves all around being whipped off by the wind. I scrambled along the deck, the skipper was calling me. “Hi, hi, sir,” I shouted, and in a trice we got the sails in, and then, as I stood by the skipper holding on to some cordage for dear life as she lay over, the seas lifted their heads to windward and as their tops hissed68 and foamed69 a tremendous sea came over. I distinctly felt the boat sink under the weight of that ocean of water. The skipper grabbed hold of me and I grabbed hold of him; the sailors forward by the fo’c’sle saved 217themselves by rushing in the fo’c’sle alley-way. We heard a cry above the thundering of the waves and then the vessel70 righted; the skipper was overboard head and shoulders, half through poop bulwark71 bars and cordage! I had hold of his leg! I was holding on to save myself, and so saved my life and his too! Two sailors came to our assistance; we were both half insensible but scrambled to our feet as Alf, the bos’n, shouted “Sir, the mate and the Chinese hand have gone overboard.” I shall never forget those words, and the sudden realisation of what it meant, as we all stood and gazed out across the black waters as the mountainous seas arose slowly and grandly, blazing with phosphorous foams72, and as they travelled onward73 the typhoon blew with such terrific force that our clothes were ripped up! It was impossible to attempt to save them, our boats were all washed away; once we all thought we heard a faint cry across the waters, and that was the last of John Herberts, chief mate, and Ching the deck hand.
I stuck to that skipper and eventually arrived back at Vanua Levu, and went over on a cutter to Samoa again, and for a long time I was despondent74 and had sleepless75 nights, as I would lay awake and remember.
Before I left Samoa I went over to Savage Island with Castle, who seemed at that time mighty76 pleased with himself over some contract he had got to take a cargo77 of copra and other stuff to Tonga. It was at Savage Island that I stayed with an Englishman 218who had married a native woman. He had several children and they seemed very happy. I stayed with him for two weeks before returning to Apia with Castle. He would often talk to me about England in a sentimental78 way and knock the ash out of his pipe and sigh, and yet he seemed, as I have said, happy in his free life, for he had a beautiful plantation79 and grew all kinds of tropic fruit, and his wife was a most pleasant woman; indeed I think he was much happier than thousands of English people in old England who live in the London suburbs and toil32 their lives away to bring up their children,
And for their sakes eternally
Ride up to London Town,
Each morning pulled up in the train
And each night pulled back down!
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1
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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isles
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| 岛( isle的名词复数 ) | |
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anecdotes
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| n.掌故，趣闻，轶事( anecdote的名词复数 ) | |
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etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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incorrigible
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| adj.难以纠正的，屡教不改的 | |
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chaff
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| v.取笑，嘲笑；n.谷壳 | |
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missionaries
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| n.传教士( missionary的名词复数 ) | |
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missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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11
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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mania
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| n.疯狂；躁狂症，狂热，癖好 | |
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superstitious
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| adj.迷信的 | |
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raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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isolation
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| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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asylums
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| n.避难所( asylum的名词复数 )；庇护；政治避难；精神病院 | |
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incarcerating
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| vt.监禁，禁闭（incarcerate的现在分词形式） | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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penal
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| adj.刑罚的；刑法上的 | |
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smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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wailing
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| v.哭叫，哀号( wail的现在分词 )；沱 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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superintendent
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| n.监督人，主管，总监；(英国)警务长 | |
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commissioners
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| n.专员( commissioner的名词复数 )；长官；委员；政府部门的长官 | |
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toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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organisation
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| n.组织，安排，团体，有机休 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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bungalow
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| n.平房，周围有阳台的木造小平房 | |
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drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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hood
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| n.头巾，兜帽，覆盖；v.罩上，以头巾覆盖 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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rebounded
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| 弹回( rebound的过去式和过去分词 )； 反弹； 产生反作用； 未能奏效 | |
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wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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warship
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| n.军舰，战舰 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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bungalows
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| n.平房( bungalow的名词复数 )；单层小屋，多于一层的小屋 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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enthusiast
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| n.热心人，热衷者 | |
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expatiate
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| v.细说，详述 | |
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specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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51
salaamed
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| 行额手礼( salaam的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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tacking
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| （帆船）抢风行驶，定位焊[铆]紧钉 | |
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squatting
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的现在分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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truant
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| n.懒惰鬼，旷课者；adj.偷懒的，旷课的，游荡的；v.偷懒，旷课 | |
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jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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scud
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| n.疾行；v.疾行 | |
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snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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deluge
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| n./vt.洪水，暴雨，使泛滥 | |
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rifts
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| n.裂缝( rift的名词复数 )；裂隙；分裂；不和 | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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foamed
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| 泡沫的 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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bulwark
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| n.堡垒，保障，防御 | |
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foams
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| n.泡沫，泡沫材料( foam的名词复数 ) | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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74
despondent
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| adj.失望的，沮丧的，泄气的 | |
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75
sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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76
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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77
cargo
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| n.(一只船或一架飞机运载的)货物 | |
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78
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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plantation
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| n.种植园，大农场 | |
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