They Behaved In Friendly Fashion, And
After A Time Suggested Kai-Kai.
Kai-kai means food.
He built a
fire and started to boil some taro. While bending over the pot, one
of the bushmen shot him through the head. He fell into the flames,
whereupon they thrust a spear through his stomach, turned it around,
and broke it off.
"My word," said Captain Keller, "I don't want ever to be shot with a
Snider. Spread! You could drive a horse and carriage through that
hole in his head."
Another recent courageous killing I heard of on Malaita was that of
an old man. A bush chief had died a natural death. Now the bushmen
don't believe in natural deaths. No one was ever known to die a
natural death. The only way to die is by bullet, tomahawk, or spear
thrust. When a man dies in any other way, it is a clear case of
having been charmed to death. When the bush chief died naturally,
his tribe placed the guilt on a certain family. Since it did not
matter which one of the family was killed, they selected this old
man who lived by himself. This would make it easy. Furthermore, he
possessed no Snider. Also, he was blind. The old fellow got an
inkling of what was coming and laid in a large supply of arrows.
Three brave warriors, each with a Snider, came down upon him in the
night time. All night they fought valiantly with him. Whenever
they moved in the bush and made a noise or a rustle, he discharged
an arrow in that direction. In the morning, when his last arrow was
gone, the three heroes crept up to him and blew his brains out.
Morning found us still vainly toiling through the passage. At last,
in despair, we turned tail, ran out to sea, and sailed clear round
Bassakanna to our objective, Malu. The anchorage at Malu was very
good, but it lay between the shore and an ugly reef, and while easy
to enter, it was difficult to leave. The direction of the southeast
trade necessitated a beat to windward; the point of the reef was
widespread and shallow; while a current bore down at all times upon
the point.
Mr. Caulfeild, the missionary at Malu, arrived in his whale-boat
from a trip down the coast. A slender, delicate man he was,
enthusiastic in his work, level-headed and practical, a true
twentieth-century soldier of the Lord. When he came down to this
station on Malaita, as he said, he agreed to come for six months.
He further agreed that if he were alive at the end of that time, he
would continue on. Six years had passed and he was still continuing
on. Nevertheless he was justified in his doubt as to living longer
than six months. Three missionaries had preceded him on Malaita,
and in less than that time two had died of fever and the third had
gone home a wreck.
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