John Greenleaf Whittier - "Anti Slavery Poems I."

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Wanderings Among South Sea Savages And in Borneo and the Philippines

H >> H. Wilfrid Walker >> Wanderings Among South Sea Savages And in Borneo and the Philippines



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Wanderings Among

South Sea Savages

And in Borneo and the Philippines



by H. Wilfrid Walker

Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society



To

My brother Charles
This record of my wanderings
in which he took so deep an interest,
is affectionately dedicated.



Preface

In a book of this kind it is often the custom to begin by making
apologies. In my case I feel it to be a sheer necessity. In the first
place what is here printed is for the greater part copied word for
word from private letters that I wrote in very simple language in
Dayak or Negrito huts, or in the lonely depths of tropical forests, in
the far-off islands of the Southern Seas. I purposely made my letters
home as concise as possible, so that they could be easily read, and in
consequence have left out much that might have been interesting. It is
almost unnecessary to mention that when I wrote these letters I had
no thought whatever of writing a book. If I had thought of doing so,
I might have mentioned more about the customs, ornaments and weapons of
the natives and have written about several other subjects in greater
detail. As it is, a cursory glance will show that this book has not
the slightest pretence of being "scientific." Far from its being
so, I have simply related a few of the more interesting incidents,
such as would give a GENERAL IMPRESSION of my life among savages,
during my wanderings in many parts of the world, extending over
nearly a score of years. I should like to have written more about
my wanderings in North Borneo, as well as in Samoa and Celebes and
various other countries, but the size of the book precludes this. My
excuse for publishing this book is that certain of my relatives
have begged me to do so. Though I was for the greater part of the
time adding to my own collections of birds and butterflies, I have
refrained as much as possible from writing on these subjects for
fear that they might prove tedious to the general reader. I have
also touched but lightly on the general customs of the people, as
this book is not for the naturalist or ethnologist, nor have I made
any special study of the languages concerned, but have simply jotted
down the native words here used exactly as I heard them. As regards
the photographs, some of them were taken by myself while others were
given me by friends whom I cannot now trace. In a few cases I have
no note from whom they were got, though I feel sure they were not
from anyone who would object to their publication. In particular,
I may mention Messrs. G. R. Lambert, Singapore; John Waters, Suva,
Fiji; Kerry & Co., Sydney; and G. O. Manning, New Guinea. To these
and all others who have helped me I now tender my heartiest thanks. I
have met with so much help and kindness during my wanderings from
Government officials and others that if I were here to mention all,
the list would be a large one. I shall therefore have to be content
with only mentioning the principal names of those in the countries
I have here written about.

In Fiji: -- Messrs. Sutherland, John Waters, and McOwan.

In New Guinea: -- Sir Francis Winter, Mr. C. A. W. Monckton, R.M., The
Hon. A. Musgrave, Capt. Barton, Mr. Guy O. Manning, and Dr. Vaughan.

In the Philippines: -- Governor Taft, afterwards President of the
United States, and Mr. G. d'E. Browne.

In British North Borneo: -- Messrs. H. Walker, Richardson, Paul
Brietag, F. Durege, J. H. Molyneux, and Dr. Davies.

In Sarawak: -- H.H. The Rajah, Sir Charles Brooke, Sir Percy
Cunninghame, Dr. Hose, Archdeacon Sharpe, Mr. R. Shelford, and the
officials of The Borneo Company, Ltd.

To all of these and many others in other countries I take this
opportunity of publicly tendering my cordial thanks for their unfailing
kindness and hospitality to a wanderer in strange lands.

H. Wilfrid Walker.



List of Illustrations


FRONTISPIECE -- Belles of Papua.
A Chief's Daughter and a Daughter of the People
A "Meke-Meke," or Fijian Girls' Dance
Interior of a large Fijian Hut
A Fijian Mountaineer's House
At the Door of a Fijian House
A Fijian Girl
Spearing Fish in Fiji
A Fijian Fisher Girl
A Posed Picture of an old-time Cannibal Feast in Fiji
Making Fire by Wood Friction
An Old ex-Cannibal
A Fijian War-Dance
Adi Cakobau (pronounced "Andi Thakombau"), the highest Princess in
Fiji, at her house at Navuso
A Filipino Dwelling
A Village Street in the Philippines
A River Scene in the Philippines
A Negrito Family
Negrito Girls (showing Shaved Head at back)
A Negrito Shooting
Tree Climbing by Negritos
A Negrito Dance
Arigita and his Wife
Three Cape Nelson Kaili-Kailis in War Attire
Kaili-Kaili House on the edge of a Precipice
"A Great Joke"
A Ghastly Relic
Cannibal Trophies
A Woman and her Baby
A Papuan Girl
The Author with Kaili-Kaili Followers
Wives of Native Armed Police
A Papuan Damsel
Busimaiwa, the great Mambare Chief, with his Wife and Son (in the
Police)
A Haunt of the Bird of Paradise
The Author starting on an Expedition
A New Guinea River Scene
Papuan Tree-Houses
A Village of the Agai Ambu
H. W. Walker, L. Dyke-Acland, and C. A. W. Monckton
View of Kuching from the Rajah's Garden
Dayaks and Canoes
Dayak in War-Coat
Dayak Women and Children on the Platform outside a long House
Dayaks Catching Fish
A Dayak Woman with Mourning Ornaments round waist
On a Tobacco Estate
On a Bornean River






Life in the Home of a Fijian Prince.




CHAPTER 1

Life in the Home of a Fijian Prince.

Journey to Taviuni -- Samoan Songs -- Whistling for the Wind --
Landing on Koro -- Nabuna -- Samoans and Fijians Compared -- Fijian
Dances and Angona Drinking -- A Hurricane in the Southern Seas --
Arrival at Taviuni -- First Impressions of Ratu Lala's Establishment --
Character of Ratu Lala -- Prohibition of Cricket -- Ratu Lala Offended
-- The Prince's Musical Box.

Among all my wanderings in Fiji I think I may safely say that my
two months' stay with Ratu (Prince) Lala, on the island of Taviuni,
ranks highest both for interest and enjoyment. As I look back on my
life with this great Fijian prince and his people, it all somehow
seems unreal and an existence far apart from the commonplace life of
civilization. When I was in Suva (the capital) the colonial secretary
gave me a letter of introduction to Ratu Lala, and so one morning I
sailed from Suva on an Australian steamer, taking with me my jungle
outfit and a case of whisky, the latter a present for the Prince, --
and a more acceptable present one could not have given him.

After a smooth passage we arrived the same evening at Levuka, on the
island of Ovalau. After a stay of a day here, I sailed in a small
schooner which carried copra from several of the Outlying islands
to Levuka. Her name was the LURLINE, and her captain was a Samoan,
whilst his crew was made up of two Samoans and four Fijians. The
captain seemed to enjoy yelling at his men in the Fijian language,
with a strong flavouring of English "swear words," and spoke about
the Fijians in terms of utter contempt, calling them "d -- --
d cannibals." The cabin wag a small one with only two bunks, and
swarmed with green beetles and cockroaches. Our meals were all taken
together on deck, and consisted of yams, ship's biscuit and salt junk.

We had a grand breeze to start with, but toward evening it died down
and we lay becalmed. All hands being idle, the Samoans spent the time
in singing the catchy songs of Samoa, most of which I was familiar with
from my long stay in those islands, and their delight was great when
I joined in. About midnight a large whale floated calmly alongside,
not forty yards from our little schooner, and we trembled to think what
would happen if it was at all inclined to be playful. We whistled all
the next day for a breeze, but our efforts were not a success until
toward evening, when we were rewarded in a very liberal manner, and
arrived after dark at the village of Cawa Lailai,[1] on the island of
Koro. On our landing quite a crowd of wild-looking men and women, all
clad only in sulus, met us on the beach. Although it is a large island,
there is only one white man on it, and he far away from here, so no
doubt I was an interesting object. I put up at the hut of the "Buli"
or village chief, and after eating a dish of smoking yams, I was soon
asleep, in spite of the mosquitoes. It dawned a lovely morning and I
was soon afoot to view my surroundings. It was a beautiful village,
surrounded by pretty woods on all sides, and I saw and heard plenty
of noisy crimson and green parrots everywhere. I also learnt that
a few days previously there had been a wholesale marriage ceremony,
when nearly all the young men and women had been joined in matrimony.

Taking a guide with me, I walked across the island till I came to
the village of Nabuna,[2] on the other coast, the LURLINE meanwhile
sailing around the island. It was a hard walk, up steep hills and down
narrow gorges, and then latterly along the coast beneath the shade
of the coconuts. Fijian bridges are bad things to cross, being long
trunks of trees smoothed off on the surface and sometimes very narrow,
and I generally had to negotiate them by sitting astride and working
myself along with my hands. In the village of Nabuna lived the wife
and four daughters of the Samoan captain. He told me he had had five
wives before, and when I asked if they were all dead, he replied that
they were still alive, but he had got rid of them as they were no good.

The daughters were all very pretty girls, especially the youngest,
a little girl. of nine years old. I always think that the little
Samoan girls, with their long wavy black hair, are among the prettiest
children in the world.

We had an excellent supper of native oysters, freshwater prawns and
eels, fish, chicken, and many other native dishes. That evening
a big Fijian dance ("meke-meke"), was given in my honour. Two of
the captain's daughters took part in it. The girls sit down all the
time in a row, and wave their hands and arms about and sing in a low
key and in frightful discord. It does not in any way come up to the
very pretty "siva-siva" dancing of the Samoans, and the Fiji dance
lacks variety. There is a continual accompaniment of beating with
sticks on a piece of wood. All the girls decorate themselves with
coloured leaves, and their bodies, arms and legs glisten as in Samoa
with coconut-oil, really a very clean custom in these hot countries,
though it does not look prepossessing. Our two Samoans in the crew were
most amusing; they came in dressed up only in leaves, and took off
the Fijians to perfection with the addition of numerous extravagant
gestures. I laughed till my sides ached, but the Fijians never even
smiled. However, our Samoans gave them a bit of Samoan "siva-siva"
and plenty of Samoan songs, and it was amusing to see the interest
the Fijians took in them. It was, of course, all new to them. I drank
plenty of "angona," that evening. It is offered you in a different way
in Samoa. In Fiji, the man or girl, who hands you the coconut-shell
cup on bended knee, crouches at your feet till you have finished. In
Fijian villages a sort of crier or herald goes round the houses every
night crying the orders for the next day in a loud resonant voice, and
at once all talking ceases in the hut outside which he happens to be.

The next two days it blew a regular hurricane, and the captain dared
not venture out to sea, our schooner lying safely at anchor inside the
coral reef. I have not space to describe my stay here, but it proved
most enjoyable, and the captain's pretty Samoan daughters gave several
"meke-mekes" (Fijian dances) in my honour, and plenty of "angona"
was indulged in, and what with feasts, native games and first-class
fishing inside the coral reef, the time passed all too quickly. I
called on the "Buli" or village chief, with the captain. He was a
boy of fifteen, and seemed a very bashful youth.

We sailed again about five a.m. on the third morning, as the storm
seemed to be dying down and the captain was anxious to get on. We
had not gone far, however, before the gale increased in fury until it
turned into a regular hurricane. First our foresheet was carried away;
this was followed by our staysail, and things began to look serious,
in fact, most unpleasantly so. The captain almost seemed to lose his
head, and cursed loud and long. He declared that he had been a fool
to put out to sea before the storm had gone down, and the LURLINE,
being an old boat, could not possibly last in such a storm, and
added that we should all be drowned. This was not pleasant news,
and as the cabin was already half-full of water, and we expected
each moment to be our last, I remained on deck for ten weary hours,
clinging like grim death to the ropes, while heavy seas dashed over
me, raking the little schooner fore and aft.

Toward evening, however, the wind subsided considerably, which enabled
us to get into the calm waters of the Somo-somo Channel between the
islands of Vanua Levu and Taviuni.

The wreckage was put to rights temporarily, the Samoans, who had
previously made up their minds that they were going to be drowned,
burst forth into their native songs, and we broke our long fast
of twenty-four hours, as we had eaten nothing since the previous
evening. It was an experience I am not likely to forget, as it was the
worst storm I have ever been in, if I except the terrible typhoon of
October, 1903, off Japan, when I was wrecked and treated as a Russian
spy. On this occasion a large Japanese fishing fleet was entirely
destroyed. I was, of course, soaked to the skin and got badly bruised,
and was once all but washed overboard, one of the Fijians catching
hold of me in the nick of time. We cast anchor for the night, though
we had only a few miles yet to go, but this short distance took us
eight or nine hours next day, as this channel is nearly always calm. We
had light variable breezes, and tacked repeatedly, but gained ground
slowly. These waters seemed full of large turtles, and we passed them
in great numbers. We overhauled a large schooner, and on hailing them,
the captain, a white man, came on deck. He would hardly believe that
we had been all through the storm. He said that he had escaped most of
it by getting inside the coral reef round Vanua Levu, but even during
the short time he had been out in the storm, he had had to throw the
greater part of his cargo overboard. From the way he spoke, he had
evidently been drinking, possibly trying to forget his lost cargo.

Before I left Fiji I heard that the LURLINE had gone to her last
berth. She was driven on to a coral reef in a bad storm off the coast
of Taviuni. The captain seemed to stand in much fear of Ratu Lala. He
told me many thrilling yarns about him; said he robbed his people
badly, and added that he did not think that I would get on well with
him, and would soon be anxious to leave.

I landed at the large village of Somo-somo, glad to be safely on
TERRA FIRMA once more. It was a pretty village, with a large mountain
torrent dashing over the rocks in the middle of it. The huts were
dotted about irregularly on a natural grass lawn, and large trees,
clumps of bamboo, coconuts, bread-fruit trees, and bright-coloured
"crotons" added a great deal to the picturesqueness of the village. At
the back the wooded hills towered up to a height of nearly 4,000 feet,
and white streaks amid the mountain woods showed where many a fine
waterfall tumbled over rocky precipices.

Ratu Lala lived in a wooden house, built for him (as "Roko" for
Taviuni), by the government, on the top of a hill overlooking the
village, and. thither on landing I at once made my way. I found the
Prince slowly recovering from an attack of fever, and lying on a heap
of mats (which. formed his bed) on the floor of his own private room,
which, however, greatly resembled an old curiosity shop. Everything
was in great disorder, and piles of London Graphics and other papers
littered the ground, and on the tables were piled indiscriminately
clocks, flasks, silver cups, fishing rods, guns, musical boxes, and
numerous other articles which I discovered later on were presents from
high officials and other Europeans, and which he did not know what
to do with. Nearly every window in the house had a pane of glass[3]
broken, the floors were devoid of mats or carpets, and in places were
rotten and full of holes. This will give some idea of the state of
chaos that reigned in the Prince's "palace."

Ratu Lala himself was a tall, broad-shouldered man of about forty, his
hair slightly grey, with a bristly moustache and a very long sloping
forehead. Though dignified, he wore an extremely fierce expression,
so much so that I instinctively felt his subjects had good cause to
treat him with the respect and fear that I had heard they gave him. He
belongs to the Fijian royal family, and though he does not rank as
high as his cousin, Ratu Kandavu Levu, whom I also visited at Bau,
he is infinitely more powerful, and owns more territory. His father
was evidently a "much married man" since Ratu Lala himself told me
that he had had "exactly three hundred wives." But in spite of this
he had been a man of prowess, as the Fijians count it, and I received
as a present from Ratu Lala a very heavy hardwood war-club that had
once belonged to his father, and which, he assured me, had killed a
great many people. Ratu Lala also told me that he himself had offered
to furnish one hundred warriors to help the British during the last
Egyptian war, but that the government had declined his offer. One of
the late Governors of Fiji, Sir John Thurston, was once his guardian
and, godfather. He was educated for two years in Sydney, Australia,
and spoke English well, though in a very thick voice. Not only does
he hold sway over the island of Taviuni, but also over some smaller
islands and part of the large island of Vanua Levu. He also holds
the rank of "Roko" from the government, for which he is well paid.

After reading my letter of introduction he asked me to stay as long
as I liked, and he called his head servant and told him to find me
a room. This servant's name was Tolu, and as he spoke English fairly
well, I soon learned a great deal about Ratu Lala and his people.

Ratu Lala was married to a very high-caste lady who was closely related
to the King of Tonga, and several of whose relatives accompanied us
on our expeditions. By her he had two small children named Tersi (boy)
and Moe (girl), both of whom, during my stay (as will hereafter appear)
were sent to school at Suva, amid great lamentations on the part of
the women of Ratu Lala's household. Two months before my visit Ratu
Lala had lost his eldest daughter (by his Tongan wife). She was twelve
years old, and a favourite of his, and her grave was on a bluff below
the house, under a kind of tent, hung round with fluttering pieces
of "tapa" cloth. Spread over it was a kind of gravel of bright green
Stones which he had had brought from a long distance. Little Moe and
Tersi were always very interested in watching me skin my birds, and
their exclamation of what sounded like "Esa!" ("Oh look!") showed their
enjoyment. They were two of the prettiest little children I think I
have ever seen, but they did not know a word of English, and called me
"Misi Walk." They and their mother always took their meals sitting on
mats in the verandah. Ratu Lala had two grown-up daughters by other
wives, but they never came to the house, living in an adjoining hut
where I often joined them at a game of cards. They were both very
stately and beautiful young women, with a haughty bearing which made
me imagine that they were filled with a sense of their own importance.

As is well known all over Fiji, Ratu Lala, a few years before my stay
with him, had been deported in disgrace for a term of several months,
to the island of Viti Levu, where he would be under the paternal eye
of the government. This was because he had punished a woman, who had
offended him, by pegging her down on an ants' nest, first smearing
her all over with honey, so that the ants would the more readily eat
her.[4] She recovered afterwards, but was badly eaten. As regards
his punishment, he told me that he greatly enjoyed his exile, as he
had splendid fishing, and some of the white people sent him champagne.

His people were terribly afraid of him, and whenever they passed him
as he sat on his verandah, they would almost go down on all fours. He
told me how on one occasion when he was sitting on the upper verandah
of the Club Hotel in Suva with two of his servants squatting near by,
the whisky he had drunk had made him feel so sleepy, that he nearly
fell into the street below, but his servants dared not lay hands on him
to pull him back into safety, as his body was considered sacred by his
people, and they dared not touch him. He declared to me that he would
have been killed if a white man had not arrived just in time. He was
very fond of telling me this story, and always laughed heartily over
it. I noticed that Ratu Lala's servants treated me with a great deal
of respect, and whenever they passed me in the house they would walk
in a crouching attitude, with their heads almost touching the ground.

Ratu Lala's cousin, Ratu Kandavu Levu, is a very enthusiastic
cricketer, and has a very good cricket club with a pavilion at his
island of Bau. He plays many matches against the white club in Suva,
and only last year he took an eleven over to Australia to tour that
country. I learned that previous to my visit he had paid a visit
to Ratu Lala, and while there had got up a match at Somo-somo in
which he induced Ratu Lala to play, but on Ratu Lala being given
out first ball for nought, he (Ratu Lala) pulled up the stumps and
carried them off the ground, and henceforth forbade any of his people
to play the game on the island of Taviuni. I was not aware of this,
and as I had brought a bat and ball with me, I got up several games
shortly after my arrival. However, one evening all refused to play,
but gave no reasons for their refusal, but Tolu told me that his
master did not like to have them play. Then I learned the reason, and
from that time I noticed a decided coolness on the part of Ratu Lala
toward me. The fact, no doubt, is that Ratu Lala being exceptionally
keen on sport, this very keenness made him impatient of defeat, or
even of any question as to a possible want of success on his part,
as I afterwards learnt on our expedition to Ngamia.

I intended upon leaving Taviuni to return to Levuka, and from thence
go by cutter to the island of Vanua Levu, and journey up the Wainunu
River, plans which I ultimately carried out. Ratu Lala, however,
wished me to proceed in his boat straight across to the island of
Vanua Levu, and walk across a long stretch of very rough country to
the Wainunu River. My only objection was that I had a large and heavy
box, which I told Ratu Lala I thought was too large to be carried
across country. He at once flew into a violent passion and declared
that I spoke as if I considered he was no prince. "For," said he,
"if ten of my subjects cannot carry your box I command one hundred
to do so, and if one hundred of my subjects cannot carry your box
I tell fifteen thousand of my subjects to do so." When I tried to
picture fifteen thousand Fijians carrying my wretched box, it was
altogether too much for my sense of humour, and I burst forth into
a hearty roar of laughter, which so incensed the Prince that he shut
himself up in his own room during the few remaining days of my stay.

He had a musical box, which he was very fond of, and he had a man to
keep it going at all hours of the day and night. It played four tunes,
among them "The Village Blacksmith," "Strolling 'Round the Town," and
"Who'll Buy my Herrings" till at times they nearly drove me frantic,
especially when I wanted to write or sleep. Night after night the
tunes followed each other in regular routine till I thought I should
get them on the brain. How he could stand it was a puzzle to me,
especially as he had possessed it for many years. I often blessed
the European who gave it him, and wished he could take my place.

Whenever a man wished to speak to Ratu Lala he would crouch at his
feet and softly clap his hands, and sometimes Ratu Lala would wait
several minutes before he deigned to notice him.



CHAPTER 2

My Further Adventures with Ratu Lala.

Fijian Huts -- Abundance of Game and Fish -- Methods of Capture --
A Fijian Practical Joke -- Fijian Feasts -- Fun after Dinner -- A
Court Jester in Fiji -- Drinking, Dress, and Methods of Mourning --
A Bride's Ringlets -- Expedition to Vuna -- Tersi and Moe Journey
to School -- Their Love of Sweets -- Rough Reception of Visitors to
Vuna -- Wonderful Fish Caught -- Exhibition of Surf-board Swimming by
Women -- Impressive Midnight Row back to Taviuni -- A Fijian Farewell.

In comparison with Samoan huts, the Fijian huts were very comfortable,
though they are not half as airy, Samoan huts being very open; but in
most of the Fijian huts I visited the only openings were the doors,
and, as can be imagined, the interior was rather dark and gloomy. In
shape they greatly resembled a haystack, the sides being composed of
grass or bunches of leaves, more often the latter. They are generally
built on a platform of rocks, with doors upon two or more sides,
according to the size of the hut; and a sloping sort of rough plank
with notches on it leads from the ground to each door. In the interior,
the sides of the walls are often beautifully lined with the stems of
reeds, fashioned very neatly, and in some cases in really artistic
patterns, and tied together with thin ropes of coconut fibre, dyed
various colours, and often ornamented with rows of large white cowry
shells. The floor of these huts is much like a springy mattress,
being packed to a depth of several feet with palm and other leaves,
and on the top are strips of native mats permanently fastened, whereas
in Samoa the floor is made up of small pieces of brittle white coral,
over which are loose mats, which can be moved at will. In Fijian
huts there is always a sort of raised platform at one end of the hut,
on which are piles of the best native mats, and, being the guest, I
generally got this to myself. The roof inside is very finely thatched,
the beams being of "Niu sau," a native palm,[5] the cross-pieces and
main supports being enormous bits of hard wood. The smaller supports of
the sides are generally the trunks of tree-ferns. The doors in most of
the huts are a strip of native matting or fantastically-painted "tapa"
cloth, fastened to two posts a few feet inside the hut. In some huts
there are small openings in the walls which answer for windows. The
hearth was generally near one of the doors in the centre of the hut,
and fire was produced by rubbing a piece of hard wood on a larger
piece of soft wood, and working it up and down in a groove till a
spark was produced. I have myself successfully employed this method
when out shooting green pigeon ("rupe") in the mountains.

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