We Were
Waited Upon By Two Warriors In Full War Paint, And The "Buli's" Young
And Pretty Wife, Shining With Coconut Oil All Over Her Body, Sat By Me
And Fanned Me.
The "Buli" was an aristocratic-looking old fellow with
a large nose and a very haughty look.
He is a very important chief,
but knew no English, and we carried on our conversation through the
medium of Masirewa. He spoke in a kind of mumble, with a very thick
voice. Once when he had been mumbling worse than usual there was a
kind of restrained titter from someone in the crowd at the back. The
"Buli" heard it, and slowly turning his head he transfixed the crowd
with his piercing gaze for many seconds amid a dead silence. I wondered
afterwards if anything ever happened to the unfortunate one who was
so easily amused. I learned that besides having an impediment in
his speech, the "Buli" was also paralyzed in one leg. I Put up in a
different hut, the "Buli" apologizing for his hut being crowded with
the influx of visitors.
I watched a "meke-meke" or native dance that evening in which about a
dozen girls covered with oil took part. There was a sound of revelry
the rest of the night, for there was feasting and dancing in several
huts, and discordant chanting and the hum of many voices followed
me into my dreams. The next morning I went out shooting pigeons in
some thick pathless woods about two miles away, and I also shot some
flying foxes which I gave to my companions, as the Fijians consider
them a great delicacy, as do many Europeans.
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