“It was after that that we were very proud. We had fought many times with the
strange white men who live upon the sea, and always we had beaten them. A few
of us were killed, but what was that compared with the stores of wealth of a
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40
thousand thousand kinds that we found on the ships? And then one day, maybe
twenty years ago, or twenty-five, there came a schooner right through the
passage and into the lagoon. It was a large schooner with three masts. She had
five white men and maybe forty boat’s crew, black fellows from New Guinea and
New Britain; and she had come to fish beche-de-mer. She lay at anchor across
the lagoon from here, at Pauloo, and her boats scattered out everywhere,
making camps on the beaches where they cured the beche-de-mer. This made them
weak by dividing them, for those who fished here and those on the schooner at
Pauloo were fifty miles apart, and there were others farther away still.
“Our king and headmen held council, and I was one in the canoe that paddled
all afternoon and all night across the lagoon, bringing word to the people of
Pauloo that in the morning we would attack the fishing camps at the one time
and that it was for them to take the schooner. We who brought the word were
tired with the paddling, but we took part in the attack. On the schooner were
two white men, the skipper and the second mate, with half a dozen black boys.
The skipper with three boys we caught on shore and killed, but first eight of
us the skipper killed with his two revolvers. We fought close together, you
see, at hand grapples.
“The noise of our fighting told the mate what was happening, and he put food
and water and a sail in the small dingy, which was so small that it was no
more than twelve feet long. We came down upon the schooner, a thousand men,
covering the lagoon with our canoes. Also, we were blowing conch shells,
singing war songs, and striking the sides of the canoes with our paddles. What
chance had one white man and three black boys against us? No chance at all,
and the mate knew it.
“White men are hell. I have watched them much, and I am an old man now, and I
understand at last why the white men have taken to themselves all the islands
in the sea. It is because they are hell. Here are you in the canoe with me.
You are hardly more than a boy. You are not wise, for each day I tell you many
things you do not know. When I was a little pickaninny, I knew more about fish
and the ways of fish than you know now. I am an old man, but I swim down to
the bottom of the lagoon, and you cannot follow me. What are you good for,
anyway? I do not know, except to fight. I have never seen you fight, yet I
know that you are like your brothers and that you will fight like hell. Also,
you are a fool, like your brothers. You do not know when you are beaten. You
will fight until you die, and then it will be too late to know that you are
beaten.
“Now behold what this mate did. As we came down upon him, covering the sea and
blowing our conches, he put off from the schooner in the small boat, along
with the three black boys, and rowed for the passage. There again he was a
fool, for no wise man would put out to sea in so small a boat. The sides of it
were not four inches above the water. Twenty canoes went after him, filled
with two hundred young men. We paddled five fathoms while his black boys were
rowing one fathom. He had no chance, but he was a fool. He stood up in the
boat with a rifle, and he shot many times. He was not a good shot, but as we
drew close many of us were wounded and killed. But still he had no chance.
“I remember that all the time he was smoking a cigar. When we were forty feet
away and coming fast, he dropped the rifle, lighted a stick of dynamite with
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41
the cigar, and threw it at us. He lighted another and another, and threw them
at us very rapidly, many of them. I know now that he must have split the ends
of the fuses and stuck in match heads, because they lighted so quickly. Also,
the fuses were very short. Sometimes the dynamite sticks went off in the air,
but most of them went off in the canoes. And each time they went off in a
canoe, that canoe was finished. Of the twenty canoes, the half were smashed to
pieces. The canoe I was in was so smashed, and likewise the two men who sat
next to me. The dynamite fell between them. The other canoes turned and ran
away. Then that mate yelled, Yah! Yah! Yah!’ at us. Also he went at us again
with his rifle, so that many were killed through the back as they fled away.
And all the time the black boys in the boat went on rowing. You see, I told
you true, that mate was hell.
“Nor was that all. Before he left the schooner, he set her on fire, and fixed
up all the powder and dynamite so that it would go off at one time. There were
hundreds of us on board, trying to put out the fire, heaving up water from
overside, when the schooner blew up. So that all we had fought for was lost to
us, besides many more of us being killed. Sometimes, even now, in my old age,
I have bad dreams in which I hear that mate yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!’ In a voice
of thunder he yells, Yah! Yah! Yah!’ But all those in the fishing camps were
killed.
“The mate went out of the passage in his little boat, and that was the end of
him we made sure, for how could so small a boat, with four men in it, live on
the ocean? A month went by, and then, one morning, between two rain squalls, a
schooner sailed in through our passage and dropped anchor before the village.
The king and the headmen made big talk, and it was agreed that we would take
the schooner in two or three days. In the meantime, as it was our custom
always to appear friendly, we went off to her in canoes, bringing strings of
cocoanuts, fowls, and pigs, to trade. But when we were alongside, many canoes
of us, the men on board began to shoot us with rifles, and as we paddled away
I saw the mate who had gone to sea in the little boat spring upon the rail and
dance and yell, Yah! Yah! Yah!’
“That afternoon they landed from the schooner in three small boats filled with
white men. They went right through the village, shooting every man they saw.
Also they shot the fowls and pigs. We who were not killed got away in canoes
and paddled out into the lagoon. Looking back, we could see all the houses on
fire. Late in the afternoon we saw many canoes coming from Nihi, which is the
village near the Nihi Passage in the northeast. They were all that were left,
and like us their village had been burned by a second schooner that had come
through Nihi Passage.
“We stood on in the darkness to the westward for Pauloo, but in the middle of
the night we heard women wailing and then we ran into a big fleet of canoes.
They were all that were left of Pauloo, which likewise was in ashes, for a
third schooner had come in through the Pauloo Passage. You see, that mate,
with his black boys, had not been drowned. He had made the Solomon Islands,
and there told his brothers of what we had done in Oolong. And all his
brothers had said they would come and punish us, and there they were in the
three schooners, and our three villages were wiped out.
“And what was there for us to do? In the morning the two schooners from
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42
windward sailed down upon us in the middle of the lagoon. The trade wind was
blowing fresh, and by scores of canoes they ran us down. And the rifles never
ceased talking. We scattered like flying fish before the bonita, and there
were so many of us that we escaped by thousands, this way and that, to the
islands on the rim of the atoll.
“And thereafter the schooners hunted us up and down the lagoon. In the