They Next Rushed
Backward And Forward Brandishing Their Clubs And Killing An Imaginary
Foe, And Then Clapped Their Hands Together In Even Time.
Then off
came the "tapa" from around them, and the heap was made still larger.
Another yell from the crowd. Then silence, followed by more speaking,
and every now and then a deep "Ah-h" from all present, which sounded
like distant thunder and was most impressive. Then all the people
clapped their hands and chanted a few words in low suppressed voices,
and the ceremony, lasting between four or five hours, was over. From
time to time a man would approach the "Buli" and fall down on all
fours and clap his hands before he could speak. I felt at times as
if I was watching a comic opera or a ballet, and there were many
amusing incidents. I think honours were fairly easy between the big
show and myself, as the people kept whispering and looking around at
me the whole time. I never passed a hut without causing excitement,
and there would be cries of "papalangai" and a mass of faces would
appear at the doors. Wherever I went I was followed at a respectful
distance by a crowd of girls and children, but if I turned to retrace
my steps there was a panic-stricken rush to get out of my way. On
one occasion a little child of about two years old yelled with
fright when I passed near it. I was much astonished that a white
man should make such a stir in any part of Fiji, but it is only so
in very out-of-the-way villages such as these. I was exceedingly
lucky to witness these ceremonies, as they were the most important
ones that had taken place in Fiji for many years, and few of the
old white residents had seen their equal. I was all the more lucky,
as I never expected to see them when I started from Suva.
The next morning I said "Samoce"[9] (good-bye) to the great "Buli,"
who, though he was a big chief, was not above accepting with evident
glee the few shillings I pressed into his hand, and with Masirewa and
two fresh bearers continued my journey in the pouring rain. Once we
had to swim across a swift and swollen river, then we went over steep
hills, down deep gullies, wading through streams and passing all the
time through thick forests. We stopped once to feed on wild pineapples,
the pink "kavika." and the golden "wi," but Masirewa was a bad bushman
and slipped, and stumbled, swore and grumbled, and many times I had
to wait till he came up with me. We followed a deep and beautiful
gulch for some distance, wading all the way through a shallow stream
which flowed over a natural slanting pavement with a smooth surface,
and I found it hard to keep my footing. We got a magnificent view
from the top of a high hill of the country to the eastward, with
large rivers winding among beautiful undulating wooded country as
far as the eye could reach.
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