Wanderings Among South Sea Savages | Page 6

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.