“ ‘Look! look!’ cried the poor people, in amazement; ‘what wonderful people the Christians are! He is roasting stones. We shall not need taro or breadfruit any more; we may eat stones!’
“But their surprise was still greater when the coral was reduced to a fine soft white powder. They immediately set up a great shout, and, mingling the lime with water, rubbed their faces and their bodies all over with it, and ran through the village screaming with delight. They were also much surprised at another thing they saw me do. I wished to make some household furniture, and constructed a turning-lathe to assist me. The first thing that I turned was the leg of a sofa; which was no sooner finished than the chief seized it with wonder and delight, and ran through the village exhibiting it to the people, who looked upon it with great admiration. The chief then, tying a string to it, hung it round his neck as an ornament! He afterwards told me that if he had seen it before he became a Christian he would have made it his god!”
As the teacher concluded this anecdote we reached his door. Saying that he had business to attend to, he left us to amuse ourselves as we best could.
“Now, lads,” said Jack, turning abruptly towards us, and buttoning up his jacket as he spoke, “I’m off to see the battle. I’ve no particular fondness for seein’ bloodshed, but I must find out the nature o’ these fellows and see their customs with my own eyes, so that I may be able to speak of it again, if need be, authoritatively. It’s only six miles off, and we don’t run much more risk than that of getting a rap with a stray stone or an overshot arrow. Will you go?”
“To be sure we will,” said Peterkin.
“If they chance to see us we’ll cut and run for it,” added Jack.
“Dear me!” cried Peterkin—“you run! thought you would scorn to run from anyone.”
“So I would, if it were my duty to fight,” returned Jack, coolly; “but as I don’t want to fight, and don’t intend to fight, if they offer to attack us I’ll run away like the veriest coward that ever went by the name of Peterkin. So come along.”
XXXI
A strange and bloody battle—The lion bearded in his den—Frightful scenes of cruelty, and fears for the future.
We had ascertained from the teacher the direction to the spot on which the battle was to be fought, and after a walk of two hours reached it. The summit of a bare hill was the place chosen; for, unlike most of the other islanders, who are addicted to bush-fighting, those of Mango are in the habit of meeting on open ground. We arrived before the two parties had commenced the deadly struggle, and, creeping as close up as we dared among the rocks, we lay and watched them.
The combatants were drawn up face to face, each side ranged in rank four deep. Those in the first row were armed with long spears; the second, with clubs to defend the spearmen; the third row was composed of young men with slings; and the fourth consisted of women, who carried baskets of stones for the slingers, and clubs and spears with which to supply the warriors. Soon after we arrived, the attack was made with great fury. There was no science displayed. The two bodies of savages rushed headlong upon each other and engaged in a general melee, and a more dreadful set of men I have never seen. They wore grotesque war-caps made of various substances and decorated with feathers. Their faces and bodies were painted so as to make them look as frightful as possible; and as they brandished their massive clubs, leaped, shouted, yelled, and dashed each other to the ground, I thought I had never seen men look so like demons before.
We were much surprised at the conduct of the women, who seemed to be perfect furies, and hung about the heels of their husbands in order to defend them. One stout young women we saw, whose husband was hard pressed and about to be overcome: she lifted a large stone, and throwing it at his opponent’s head, felled him to the earth. But the battle did not last long. The band most distant from us gave way and were routed, leaving eighteen of their comrades dead upon the field. These the victors brained as they lay; and putting some of their brains on leaves went off with them, we were afterwards informed, to their temples, to present them to their gods as an earnest of the human victims who were soon to be brought there.
We hastened back to the Christian village with feelings of the deepest sadness at the sanguinary conflict which we had just witnessed.
Next day, after breakfasting with our friend the teacher, we made preparations for carrying out our plan. At first the teacher endeavoured to dissuade us.
“You do not know,” said he, turning to Jack, “the danger you run in venturing amongst these ferocious savages. I feel much pity for poor Avatea; but you are not likely to succeed in saving her, and you may die in the attempt.”
“Well,” said Jack, quietly, “I am not afraid to die in a good cause.”
The teacher smiled approvingly at him as he said this, and after a little further conversation agreed to accompany us as interpreter; saying that, although Tararo was unfriendly
