TOC

The Solomon group is divided into German and British Solomons, but the British section, about twenty-five large and small islands, being the more interesting, we did not bother to look much into the German section.

The large islands of Guadalcanar, Malaita, San Christoval, and Ysabel are as yet entirely unexplored in the interior. In none of these islands has anyone been back more than a few miles from the coast.

On the island of Guadalcanar, an island eighty miles long and forty miles wide, are half a dozen plantations and a trading and mission station, in which probably twenty-five persons live. Their homes are well guarded and stockaded, but even with the most rigid precautions, a white man is set down as missing at frequent intervals. Only a few months ago, I received a letter from a friend in the Solomons, telling of the massacre of a trader at a station where the Snark once anchored.

After our cruise in the western islands, the Snark dropped anchor at the largest plantation in the Solomons, called Penduffryn, on the island of Guadalcanar, owned and managed by two Englishmen, George Darbishire and Thomas Harding. p310

As Mrs. London was not feeling well when we anchored here, she was left at the plantation, while Jack and I and the two Kanakas and two Japs took the Snark over to the island of Tulagi, twenty-five miles away. The engine ran all the way. We made the twenty-five miles in three hours, dropping anchor at Tulagi late in the evening. Jack and I went up the side of an old extinct volcano to the house of the Governor of the British Solomons. The Governor was away, but the Assistant Governor received us, and promptly fined Jack £5 for not getting pratique papers here first. Otherwise we were treated hospitably. Late that night Jack set out in a whale-boat for Penduffryn, leaving the rest of us to get the boat cleaned with the help of the Governor's native recruits. For one week, twenty native divers scraped the Snark's keel with cocoanut husks, and in company with a government engineer, I took the Snark on short cruises, testing the engines, and after everything had been thoroughly overhauled, I took the Snark back across the straits of Penduffryn, and went ashore to find a regular reunion of white men.

There were traders old and young, beche-de-mer fishermen, old beach-combers and blackbirders. All were delighted to hear that visitors were at Penduffryn. For one week, this largest group of white men that ever gathered on the island of Guadalcanar made things hum with good time. Everyone was so happy—and we acted like children. We had big card games p311 and even a masquerade ball. Darbishire, who was always the life of the plantation, dressed as an English lady, and I was his partner to the dance. The music did not amount to much, but Mrs. London's Hawaiian ukelele made enough for us to dance by. The merrymaking lasted several days, until it ended by all present agreeing to take the Oriental dope called hashish.

Darbishire was the first to partake. After he had passed under the influence, we decorated him with parts of Mrs. London's clothes, and I did a little artistic work with water-colours. For several days he went around the house in a half-dazed state, and would at times drop dead asleep while standing on his feet. One after another took this hashish, until the night Jack took it. He went clear off his head, acted so wild that Mrs. London was frightened; and no one else would take it. Next night was to have been my turn.

At Penduffryn they have seven native boys trained to cook and do the housework, so it was very little that the white people had to do. During the day I usually worked aboard the Snark, rowing ashore at night for late dinner. And then I was busy a good deal of the time with my photographic work.

I seldom moved about at night, alone. The natives were pretty restless just then at Lunga, a station fourteen miles below here: eight blacks from Malaita working at the station ran away to the bush, and threatened p312 to get some white heads, then, stealing a boat, to go back to Malaita. One day, at Penduffryn, a lot of powder and cartridges was found in a hut belonging to a native. The man was taken to the house and handcuffed, and all the recruits were called in from work. Then Mr. Harding told them that the man was going to be sent to the Governor, who would sentence him to three years hard, unpaid labour. Until a boat left, no one was to speak to him. But the next morning, when his handcuffs were taken off, the culprit bolted, and thereafter made his appearance among the other natives at night, inciting them to kill every white man at Penduffryn.

After the loot was found, a search was made of all the houses, and two fellows were found to have spears. Again all the men were called from work, and before them all these two fellows were forced to strip their lava-lavas; and Mr. Darbishire, with a big boor-hide whip, gave them the worst licking I ever saw anyone get. He made deep cuts in their hide, from which the blood spurted. It nearly made me sick, but I knew the whipping was necessary; for it is solely by intimidation that the white man rules in the Solomons.

Meanwhile, things were going badly with the Snark crew.

Henry and Tehei were down with island fever. Nakata had caught ngari-ngari, or scratch-scratch. Jack had terrible yaws, and I had equally terrible yaws. We, too, took occasional spells of fever. Dosings of p313 quinine and applications of corrosive sublimate and blue vitriol were daily occurrences. The blue vitriol drove me nearly crazy—Jack called it horse doctoring; but it was the best that I could do. Henry developed bukua on his face; Tehei fainted several times, and wept and prayed; all this made us the most invalided crew ever seen in the South Seas. This much I learned, however, from our tribulations: anyone coming to the Solomons should first purchase a barrel of quinine for the fever and a barrel of corrosive sublimate for the yaws, and leave an order for more to follow.

I was looking forward to getting out of this particular part of the world. It was too wild and raw, too full of sickness and sudden death. How I longed for a real bed, with sheets, in a place where it was not too hot to sleep! The rain pretty near drove us out of the Snark. We had awning all over the deck, and side curtains, but the tropical showers that blew up in a minute and swept away the next were fast and furious while they lasted. No matter how well the canvas was set, the rain got through and pushed below to our bunks. But I determined that in Australia I would get two large ventilators for my room. Then no rain could bother me, for the hatch would be shut. Also, I was thinking seriously of fitting up my bunk with sheets. If the Snark was to be home to me for several years to come, I might as well arrange for comfort. p314

Because of Henry's and Tehei's sickness, Jack thought it best to get a white man to look after things, so he hired a German named Harry Jacobsen; a man who had been mate of the Minota, a recruiting schooner that had gone ashore on Malaita and been looted by the savage islanders. The Minota had been recovered, but just now was not putting out, so Jack was able to get Mr. Jacobsen without much trouble. Our machinery had gone wrong, and we had to wait at Penduffryn until fresh parts came from Sydney, Australia. It was during this wait that the Minota was fitted out for another recruiting trip to Malaita. Captain Jansen and Mr. Jacobsen invited Jack and Mrs. London to go along on this blackbirding cruise; so I was left in charge of the Snark.

Soon afterward, only twenty-five miles away, the Minota grounded on the Mallua Reef, close to the cannibal island of Malaita. Soon they were surrounded by scores of man-eaters in canoes. Of course, Jack and all the rest were well armed, but the savages were so numerous and so treacherous that a day-and-night watch had to be kept against a surprise and a terrible death. They sent up rockets, which, as a matter of fact, I saw; but I had no idea that it was the Minota which was in trouble. I thought some other vessel was on the rocks. Anyway, I was quite unable to go to their help, with my engines out of order. Their safety during the time taken to re-float the Minota was really owing to the efforts of a missionary—one p315 of the few missionaries in the Solomons who had any influence with the cannibals. He got his mission-boys to form a guard for passengers and crew, and thus averted the peril. Poor fellow! he was killed soon after.

In addition to the yaws and the fever, a new trouble came into the life of the Snark family. Jack's hands had begun to swell up, turn very sore, and peel skin. The nails were very hard and thick, and had to be filed. And it was the same with his feet. Nothing like it had ever been heard of before. The traders and beach-combers could diagnose yaws and fever, but not this. Both Jack and Mrs. London were considerably alarmed at this strange manifestation. "It is plain we are not wanted in the South Seas," Jack said, more than once. "California is the place for me."

"And me for Kansas," I assured him.

Wada and Nakata began to dilate upon the virtues of Japan, while Henry and Tehei were praying day and night that they might get back safely to the Society Islands.

After we had lain at Penduffryn a time, Mr. London decided that we would make a visit to the fabled Ontong Java islands that the traders were telling us so much about. They were situated about two hundred miles away from the Solomons, and their exact location was not known. The people were said to be of a queer race, and as we were out to see the unusual, we set sail from Penduffryn, and after two days' beating p316 up the Invincible Straits, we anchored at the island of Ysabel, and lay there seventeen days, trading and hunting wild game. Here Wada, the cook, went clean out of his head, and running away, went to live in a village of coast natives; and we were compelled to sail off without him. Jack promised Nakata a new suit of clothes if he would do the cooking until we reached a port where we could get a new cook. Nakata tried to hold his own job and the cook's job, but got sick, and then Tehei and Henry and I took turn-about getting meals. When we sailed away from Ysabel, we were forced to cut loose our big eight-hundred-pound anchor, for it had gotten caught in the coral reefs so tightly that it was impossible for us to get it out.

Ontong Java is about two hundred miles to the west of Ysabel. Now and then a trading vessel comes here, and once a year a steamer collects the annual output of copra. I suppose the steamer knows the position. Certainly it is never gotten from the chart.

The first day out of Ysabel we had fine weather, but the next day the sea got rough, and for six days it rained and blew as it only can in the tropics; and to add to our discomfort, Tehei got blackwater fever and lay down on deck fully decided to die. Nakata was still sick, and to cap matters he got a second dose of ptomaine poisoning. Mrs. London and Jack came down with fever, and their yaws grew worse. Henry's bukua continued to bother him. And I daily writhed in the agony of alternate washes of blue vitriol and corrosive p317 sublimate. We were so sick and miserable that very little attention was paid to the navigating, and for several days we sailed in a half-hearted way, looking for the islands. One day, Jack's observations indicated that we were inside the lagoon, and next day we had sailed clear past the islands. But one morning Henry called all hands on deck to see the cocoanut trees just visible above the horizon. We sailed up the coast of small islands, some of them only large enough for one cocoanut tree, and the greatest no larger than an ordinary city block. These thirty-nine islands circled around a lagoon ten miles wide. Not one of these islands was over two feet above the water-line, and absolutely the only vegetation was the thickly growing cocoanut trees.

While looking for an opening between the little islands, a canoe with two occupants paddled off from one of the islands and we let them aboard. It was certainly a surprise to see Polynesians again, instead of the little woolly-headed negroids of the Solomons. These men were big, brown-skined, straight-haired fellows—that is, their hair would have been straight, had they ever combed it. As they came over the rail, Henry spoke to them in his own tongue; and what was our amazement to hear them answer him. And then Tehei decided that he wouldn't die, and started talking to them.

Our surprise will be appreciated when I say that these people's rightful home was five thousand miles p318 to the eastward. They did not know that there were any others in this part of the world who could speak their language. They piloted us inside the lagoon, and then to our further surprise we saw a white man's frame house on the beach of the largest island. When we dropped anchor, this man came aboard, and a happy man he was that day. For it was a lonesome time he had, with a sight of white people only once a year, when the steamer came after his copra.

He was a Dutchman, and had lived here so long that he had almost forgotten how to speak English. We came ashore with him, and went directly to his home. While we were there a small boy brought up a tiny shark's jaw and presented it to Jack with the king's compliments. As we had bought these small jaws for a half-stick of tobacco, Jack was disgusted and started to throw it away, but I asked for it and he gave it to me.

Then we were taken to see the king, who was squatting on a mat in the centre of a large grass house, his half-dozen wives seated around him. We shook hands, and with the trader as interpreter Jack made the king a present of coloured calico and some tobacco, and then told the king that he must give us a hundred cocoanuts in return. The old king started to say no, until Jack made as if to take back his presents, when the king hastily ordered the cocoanuts to be sent aboard. We went on through the village and came to the graveyard, and it was the most remarkable graveyard p319 I have ever seen. The graves lay so close together that there was scarcely room for a tombstone. The tombstones were straight slabs of granite, with no writing, but some of them had queer heads attached. There were no mounds over the graves—they sparkled with pure white sand, beaten flat; and all the graves were levelled off the same way, until they appeared like a long, paved sidewalk. At the outer edge of the graveyard were three wooden crosses that marked the graves of the former wives of the Dutch trader. He pointed to the three graves with pride, and later on he showed us his three living wives. He informed us that if one of them didn't make copra better he might find it necessary to make a cross for her—and I believe he meant it. For he was very brutal. A fine handsome young fellow had attached himself to our party wherever we went, and once the Dutchman gave him a crushing blow with his fist, apparently without reason. After that, Obi held aloof.

On going back to the trader's house, we noticed a Solomon Islander working around the place. When we asked why this native should be so far away from home, we learned that he had been recruited about five years before to work on a plantation for the trading company, and had been put at this lagoon to prevent his getting way. Those who have read Jack London's story, "Mauki," will understand, for this native was the original of that interesting character. p320

We lay at this lagoon for nearly a week. I got a great deal of fine coral in all colours of the rainbow, but it all faded white, except the red, which was so brittle that it broke to pieces. I saw trees of coral twenty feet high, and wonderful gardens of it, through which parrot-coloured fish swam in and out.

After piling our cockpit full of green cocoanuts that the king's subjects had selected for us, we had prepared to leave, when word came to us that across the lagoon were two missionaries, a Samoan and a Tonga Islander, who wanted to see us. The Dutchman had been careful not to tell us of them, for a very good reason.

Why the Dutchman did not want us to know of these missionaries, perhaps the most remarkable in the world, we soon learned after we had left this lagoon and stumbled on to another.

Two years before the time we were at Ontong Java, the mission-ship Southern Cross had steamed into this harbour with two missionaries, one of them from Samoa, the other from the Tonga Islands. These two men tried hard to land, but the natives said no, that their idols were good enough for them and they had no desire to change—if the white men wanted to land there would be no resistance, but no dark-skinned natives were going to be allowed to tell them about new gods.

The Southern Cross could not afford to remain long at this place, for it kept them moving to make their rounds twice a year, so the two missionaries were left p321 with fifty days' food and water in an open boat. Then for fifty days these missionaires tried to land, but were met with spears at the beach; and when the food and water was all gone, the Dutch trader took pity on them, and told the king that he had received a message from the great white master, saying that if the men were not allowed to land they would send schooners and kill everyone on the islands.

The king then allowed the trader to take the men in his house and nurse them; and after they returned to health they built neat grass houses and tried to work among the islanders, but their work went slowly and it was not until the Dutch trader killed one of his wives and the missionaries proved it on him that they gained any hold. Then the missionaries started a crusade against the trader, but the natives did not have the courage to deport him, and it got so warm for the missionaries that they were notified to leave the largest island and never return. Then these missionaries went to live on another island, and for years they never saw any civilised people, for the trader took good care that no vessels ever anchored across the lagoon. When we of the Snark sailed over to them, they cried, they were so glad to see white people. We gave them potatoes and tinned goods, and promised to report them at the government station when we got back to the Solomons.

We then sailed out of the lagoon and headed west with a large crowd of natives following in canoes. We p322 were clear of the islands by sundown, and Jack set the course for another lagoon that was reported to be some two hundred miles farther west, and the watches were set with confidence of a perfect night's rest. Just enough wind was blowing to keep the sails full, and there was scarcely a ripple on the water. Wada and Tehei kept their watch; then I was called on deck, and was lazily smoking and steering at the wheel. Everyone else was asleep on deck and I was only enough awake to keep the Snark's head on the course, when I heard a slight rustling on the water ahead, which increased in volume until it rose into the unmistakable roar of a reef. Hastily bringing the vessel up into the wind, I roused all hands and after a good look at the reef, Jack ordered the Snark about, and until morning we beat back and forth. When daylight came we were in sight of another small lagoon that looked like Ontong Java in miniature. We had no trouble getting inside the reef, and sailed five miles across the lagoon to the largest island, and dropped anchor. In no time at all our decks were crowded with big, brown Polynesians, who, while they seemed healthy fellows, appeared absolutely devoid of intellect.

We tried hard to get some spears, but the natives refused to sell, no matter what we offered. There were about fifty of them: soon they began chanting a weird kind of song. We found that this was in honour of their king, who was on his way out to us.

p323

Shortly a canoe finer than the rest came alongside, and the old bewhiskered king, a fine old chap with nose-rings and ear-rings, came over the rail. We received a shock, for his body was covered with tattooed designs of guns. The old fellow ordered the natives to the stern of the boat, and, advancing, made us a speech of welcome. We tried to get his King-spear, a beautifully carved weapon, designed to catch a victim going or coming, but he would not part with it. Of course, we were expected to make the king a present. It had been a joke with us about the useless things that kings and chiefs had been giving us; so more in the spirit of a jest than anything else, Mrs. London gave this king an old night-gown of hers. He seemed so vastly pleased that Mrs. London put it on him. That did the trick: he was so delighted that he at once gave us his King-spear; and for days we saw him running about the island in the night-gown, the proudest man in the world, and certainly the best-dressed native for miles around.

With the idea of showing us what a great and lordly king he was, he invited us ashore, and parading us through the village, he called all his subjects together and made a speech to them. I don't know what he said, but they were highly pleased; and that night a dance was given for us. We noticed the same people we had seen in the afternoon; and next day, on going to some of the close-by islands, we found them uninhabited, and gradually it dawned upon us p324 that the first group of people we had seen were the sole inhabitants of the Tasman Lagoon. On counting them, we found fifty-nine men and forty-eight women, and only one baby. It was easy to see the finish of these people. They had married and intermarried until every solitary native was closely related to every other native; and should they continue to intermarry so closely, should there be no infusion of fresh blood, their race must become thoroughly idiotic, and soon go down to death.

I believe the most peculiar trait of these people was their idol or devil-devil worship. They had no good god, but believed that if they kept their devil-devil in good humour, everything would be well, and that if the devil-devil should get angry, they would have floods and diseases and everything in general would go to ruin. To keep the devil-devil in good humour, they had built large houses with fresh mats for him to sleep on; and every boat or house that was built must first be passed on by their wooden devil-devil, and by certain signs they could tell whether he was pleased or not. One of these devils I sent back to America, and I still have it.

At this island, we found another of those queer graveyards that we had seen in Ontong Java. There were hundreds and hundreds of these strange graves, which proved that the reefs comprising this lagoon had once been well inhabited. p325

We collected several of their peculiar grass dresses at this place. I secured one just before it was finished.

There are dozens of islands in the Solomon group where few white men have ever been seen in the interior, and there are islands where a white man has never been seen at all. We made a call at one of these places—quite an accidental call. We were caught in the tail end of a hurricane and were blown about for a time, not knowing in the least where we were. Then there came a sudden calm, and we found ourselves near a little group of islands. Presently, the natives came out in canoes to see us. They were quite naked, and had straight hair standing out in huge masses around their heads. When they saw us, they were the most amazed people in the world. They felt our white skins, and rubbed them, to see if the colour would come off. Everything was bewildering to them. Once we thought that they were getting dangerous, and I presented my revolver at one of them. The man coolly took it by the muzzle, thinking it was a toy meant as a present. As with all the other savages, they were delighted with the mechanical toys we showed them. A Jack-in-the-box would keep a huge chief happy for hours. One of them found an old file, and thought it the greatest treasure in the world.

They left us rather suddenly. It was my fault. p326 Thinking to amuse them, I started the dynamo with which we lighted the boat, and gave one of them a shock. He yelled, jabbered something to the others, and at once they all sprang overboard and swam ashore. They didn't stop for their canoes, which we were obliged to cut adrift.

At night, a lot of them stood on the beach looking at us. We turned the searchlight on them, and as it swept along the shore, they shrieked and fled. Nor did they stop until they had reached the other end of the island, two miles away.

That particular island was not marked on our chart, nor was it on the latest and best charts that I later consulted at Sydney. Until we went to the place, the people believed that their little speck of an island, hundreds of miles from any other land, was the whole world. They knew nothing of tobacco or gin, which are so dear to other South Sea Islanders. And I have little doubt that there are many other islands hereabouts, where the natives believe themselves the only human beings in existence.

Strangely enough, the natives were never frightened or annoyed when I took photographs. They did not understand what it was all about, and they didn't care. But when I developed the plates and showed them their own pictures, they were delighted. In many places, they had never seen a picture before. There was one old chief whose photograph I took. When I showed him a print, he at once sent messengers to all the p327 islands round, and the people trooped in to see the wonder. I suppose they're still admiring it, if they haven't worn it out with admiration.

We made fast time back to the Solomons. We spent several days beating through the Manning Straits between the islands of Ysabel and Choiseul. The tides ran so strong here that it was all we could do to get through, and in many places we would pass clusters of little islands so slowly that the natives in canoes would surround us, and try to get aboard, but these woolly-headed people were so savage-looking that we did not care to allow them on our deck.

In this strait we passed queer little islands built upon reefs out from the main islands. These little handmade islands were inhabited as thickly as the people could stick on them, by coast natives that had been driven off the larger islands by the bush men coming down to the salt-water villages; and when the coast natives were forced to retreat, there was no place for them to go except to the reefs, so gradually there sprang up a reef-dwelling people who are never allowed to land on the mainland. As the bush boys are afraid of the water, they never attempt to make canoes, and the reef natives control the water so effectively that the bush men dare not even fish in the salt water; and as the reef natives cannot produce enough cocoanuts and fruit to keep them in a variety of foods, the two tribes compromise by allowing their women to come together on the beach, where fish are traded p328 for fruits and nuts. Men never dare come to the market-place where this trading is effected.

During the hurricane a few years ago, several of these islands were destroyed, and for several weeks the inhabitants were paddling among the different islands looking for a safe place to land. Some landed at hostile places and were killed. Others started new villages in uninhabited places; and some were unfortunate enough to land near plantations, and were forced into service. The traders were only too glad to get new recruits without the expense of blackbirding them.

As we passed out of the Manning Straits, we sailed past part of the German Solomons. On clear days we could see patrols of war canoes paddling up and down the coasts of the different islands, and often would pass close to small canoes on fishing trips. We let some of the natives come aboard the Snark and traded for the fish they carried. I believe that was one of the most interesting experiences that fell to me in the South Seas—to see these different people in their canoes, and now and then to stop to trade with them or to make photographs.

We dropped anchor for two days at an island north of Guadalcanar, where we knew there was a plantation. We were treated hospitably by Mr. Nichols, the owner of the plantation. And here we discovered another interesting bit of history in regard to Henry, our Polynesian sailor. Some years before, Mr. p329 Nichols had managed a pearling station on Christmas Island, and Henry was his chief diver. He had found a pearl that was worth a large sum of money, and when he turned it over to Mr. Nichols, he and Nichols were attacked by the other pearl divers and the pearl was stolen. The natives took it to Papeete, Tahiti, where they sold it for half its value. Mr. Nichols asked as a favour that Henry might stay ashore a couple of days with him; and then the two got together like a couple of old soldiers talking over the war.

It was early in the morning that we slid out of the island, on the most perfect day possible. We pushed down the coast of Guadalcanar, the awnings set and the engines running smoothly. Not a bit of wind was stirring. As we three white people were now in an awful state with yaws, and Jack's mysterious sickness was growing worse all the time, it was decided that we should get back to Penduffryn by the time the steamer arrived, so that we could get our wounds doctored. The blue vitriol washes were driving us to distraction, but thus only could we keep the disease from spreading.

Finally, after being away two months, we dropped anchor again at Penduffryn. On going ashore, we found the traders organising to make a trip into the interior of the island, to make moving pictures among the real cannibals. Mr. Harding had been trying for several years to get enough persons together to make p330 this expedition. Here, too, another surprise awaited us. It was Wada, our cook, who had deserted us at Ysabel, now miraculously returned. He seemed to have recovered his reason, so Jack put him once more into the galley of the Snark.

The three moving picture men had been sent from Paris by PathÉ FrÊres, famous the world over, to make pictures of the reception of the American fleet in Sydney. Having finished the fleet pictures, it was up to them to bring back some good cinematographic records of the Solomon Islands cannibals. For the first week they were kept busy at Penduffryn, unpacking and setting up their machines. Then all three, not being used to the damp climate, had fallen sick with island fever, and so could not make their inland trip until they had recovered. Meanwhile, their chemicals, which had been thoughtlessly unpacked, rapidly deteriorated in the tropical atmosphere; and there was no place to buy chemicals short of Australia. However, the chemicals used on moving pictures are the same as those used on ordinary films, so I was able to supply sufficient material to last them until they got back to Australia. Harding and Darbishire made preparations for the trip, and were as enthusiastic as children. For when white men exist for years on a plantation without associating with others of their race, they are apt to run wild when they come in contact with a bunch of good fellows.

We went up the Balesuna River six miles to a village, p331 named Charley after a native who had once worked on the Penduffryn plantation. This was the first time a white man had ever set foot in the interior of the island of Guadalcanar. We were gone some time, and secured some very unique and interesting pictures.

By this time, our yaws and Jack's undiagnosed illness were so bad that we were anxiously waiting for the steamer. The doctors of Australia were our only hope. Henry, Tehei, and the two Japs had practically recovered from their ailments, but we white people found life in the Solomons more trying every day. The two Tahitians and Wada were to take charge of the Snark and lie at Aola, Guadalcanar, until we could resume the voyage, which we hoped would be before long. On Tuesday, November 3, the steamship Makambo dropped anchor at Penduffryn, and lay all day discharging cargo and taking on copra and ivory-nuts. That evening, Jack gave a big champagne dinner to the Penduffrynites; then we went aboard, to sail next morning, but the anchor-chain got foul, and we did not get away until Wednesday noon. We went to Neil Island, where we anchored for the night, and then to Aola, where the Snark was lying. Thursday noon we steamed out of the Solomons.

It seemed good to be on a large vessel like the Makambo after being so long on the Snark. She seemed as steady as a house, and I couldn't understand why only a few persons came to meals. Had they p332 been on the tiny Snark, doing a corkscrew twist out in the sea, I could have understood readily. The Makambo seemed like a very big ship to me after our own boat; but the truth is, she was one of the smallest ships in the South Sea trade. I had a deck-cabin with a fine room-mate—a doctor from New Guinea. Only one thing about him was unpleasant—his delirium tremens. He had them two days. All night he caught snakes and cockroaches; and whenever he missed a large snake, he woke me up to catch it for him. Oh, it was lovely for a sick man! Jack and Mrs. London had the captain's room on the bridge, so that they could keep up with their work.

On Tuesday, November 10, we sighted land, and for the rest of the day steamed off shore. How good it seemed to see real land again—not cocoanut trees that just lifted out of the water, but real land! I felt so good that I had to practise a new profession of mine upon some of the passengers. While at Penduffryn, I had learned much. One day Mr. Harding told us of a black boy of his that could make fire. We asked for a demonstration. The black came up with two pieces of dry driftwood, and in less than one minute had made fire, sufficient to start up a cook-stove. Well, it looked so easy that I bet Jack that I could do it inside half an hour; but when the bet was made, they all told me that it was impossible for a white man to do it. Jack said he had never seen a black do it before, and that he had always regarded p333 it as a myth in story-books. Anyway, I set to work, and at the end of the half-hour I did not even have a smoke started; so I lost the bet. But I was not discouraged. I kept at it, and went among the blacks. They taught me the trick, and still I could not do it; but after working at it for several days, I learned to do it quicker than even the blacks could do it. After that, it was so easy! I brought two pieces of wood along, and on the day we sighted land, I made a bet with one of the passengers that I could make fire, and I won in a walk. Then I bet him ten shillings that he could not do it in half an hour—and of course, I won.

It was on Sunday, November 15, 1908, that we approached Sydney. We got off the heads at ten in the morning, and for two hours steamed up what is supposed to be the finest harbour in the world. Certainly, I saw more big steamers and large full-rigged ships at anchor and in the docks than I ever saw in the New York or the San Francisco harbours. It all seemed American, what of the great sign-boards on every side, and it got more American as we went along. I could hardly restrain my impatience to get ashore.

Australia at last! Not under the exact circumstances we had planned, but Australia at last. Our hearts were very light as the Makambo's anchor rumbled down in Sydney Harbor, and we found ourselves once more in civilisation. p334