As we wound along in single file through the rich fragrant groves of banana, coconut, breadfruit, and other trees, I observed that there were many of the plum and banyan trees, with which I had become familiar on the Coral Island. I noticed also large quantities of taro-roots, yams, and sweet potatoes, growing in enclosures. On turning into an open glade of the woods, we came abruptly upon a cluster of native houses. They were built chiefly of bamboos, and were thatched with the large thick leaves of the pandanus; but many of them had little more than a sloping roof and three sides with an open front, being the most simple shelter from the weather that could well be imagined. Within these, and around them, were groups of natives—men, women, and children—who all stood up to gaze at us as we marched along, followed by the party of men whom the chief had sent to escort us. About half a mile inland we arrived at the spot where the sandalwood grew, and, while the men set to work, I clambered up an adjoining hill to observe the country.
About midday, the chief arrived with several followers, one of whom carried a baked pig on a wooden platter, with yams and potatoes on several plantain leaves, which he presented to the men, who sat down under the shade of a tree to dine. The chief sat down to dine also; but, to my surprise, instead of feeding himself, one of his wives performed that office for him! I was seated beside Bill, and asked him the reason of this.
“It is beneath his dignity, I believe, to feed himself,” answered Bill; “but I daresay he’s not particular, except on great occasions. They’ve a strange custom among them, Ralph, which is called taboo, and they carry it to great lengths. If a man chooses a particular tree for his god, the fruit o’ that tree is tabooed to him; and if he eats it, he is sure to be killed by his people, and eaten, of course, for killing means eating hereaway. Then, you see that great mop o’ hair on the chief’s head? Well, he has a lot o’ barbers to keep it in order; and it’s a law that whoever touches the head of a living chief or the body of a dead one, his hands are tabooed; so, in that way, the barbers’ hands are always tabooed, and they daren’t use them for their lives, but have to be fed like big babies, as they are, sure enough!”
“That’s odd, Bill. But look there,” said I, pointing to a man whose skin was of a much lighter colour than the generality of the natives. “I’ve seen a few of these light-skinned fellows among the Fijians. They seem to me to be of quite a different race.”
“So they are,” answered Bill. “These fellows come from the Tongan Islands, which lie a long way to the eastward. They come here to build their big war-canoes; and as these take two, and sometimes four years, to build, there’s always some o’ the brown-skins among the black sarpents o’ these islands.”
“By the way, Bill,” said I, “your mentioning serpents, reminds me that I have not seen a reptile of any kind since I came to this part of the world.”
“No more there are any,” said Bill, “if ye except the niggers themselves, there’s none on the islands, but a lizard or two and some sich harmless things. But I never seed any myself. If there’s none on the land, however, there’s more than enough in the water, and that minds me of a wonderful brute they have here. But, come, I’ll show it to you.” So saying, Bill arose, and, leaving the men still busy with the baked pig, led me into the forest. After proceeding a short distance we came upon a small pond of stagnant water. A native lad had followed us, to whom we called and beckoned him to come to us. On Bill saying a few words to him, which I did not understand, the boy advanced to the edge of the pond, and gave a low peculiar whistle. Immediately the water became agitated and an enormous eel thrust its head above the surface and allowed the youth to touch it. It was about twelve feet long, and as thick round the body as a man’s thigh.
“There,” said Bill, his lip curling with contempt, “what do you think of that for a god, Ralph? This is one o’ their gods, and it has been fed with dozens o’ livin’ babies already. How many more it’ll get afore it dies is hard to say.”
“Babies?” said I, with an incredulous look.
“Ay, babies,” returned Bill. “Your softhearted folk at home would say, ‘Oh, horrible! impossible!’ to that, and then go away as comfortable and unconcerned as if their sayin’ ‘horrible! impossible!’ had made it a lie. But I tell you, Ralph, it’s a fact. I’ve seed it with my own eyes the last time I was here, an’ mayhap if you stop a while at this accursed place, and keep a sharp look out, you’ll see it too. They don’t feed it regularly with livin’ babies, but they give it one now and then as a treat. Bah! you brute!’ cried Bill, in disgust, giving the reptile a kick on the snout with his heavy boot, that sent it sweltering back in agony into its loathsome pool. I thought it lucky for Bill, indeed for all of us, that the native youth’s back happened to be turned at the time, for I am certain that if the poor savages had come to know that we had so rudely handled their god, we should have had to fight our way back to the ship. As we retraced our steps I questioned my companion further on this subject.
“How comes