During The
Latter Part Of My Stay In Qelani I Suffered From A Slight Attack Of
Dysentery, And It Was
Dull lying ill on the floor of a native hut with
no one to talk to, as Ratu Lala always
Tried to avoid speaking English
whenever possible, and would often only reply in monosyllables. It
would often seem as if he were annoyed at something, but I found that
he did this to all white men, and meant nothing by it. I soon cured
myself by eating a lot of raw leaves of some bush plant, also a great
quantity of native arrow-root.
In spite of my sickness I managed to shoot a fair number of duck,
wild chickens and pigeon, and also a few birds for my collection. One
day, in spite of the rain, I was rowed over to Ngamia, which is
a wonderfully beautiful island, about three hours from Qelani. It
was thickly covered with a fine cycad which grows amongst the rocks
overhanging the sea. The natives call it "loga-loga,"[8] and eat the
fruit. I landed and botanized a bit, finding some new and interesting
plants, and then rowed on a few miles to call on the only white man
on the island, an Australian named Mitchell, who has a large coconut
property. He was astonished and pleased to see me, and introduced
me to his Fijian wife, and his two pretty half-caste daughters soon
got together a good breakfast for me.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 32 of 217
Words from 8714 to 8963
of 59060
