Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, Volume VIII, Number 25, 19 June 1869 — English Column. [ARTICLE]

English Column.

Tltc (wo Maniui'*»!! na(i?cs.

I shall nevcr iorget our lirst visit to ruamau, islami of Hivaoa, the largest auel most savage, islaml ot the group. The natives here are notoriousiy dirty, brutish, aml sav-| nge. Mostly arined, they eame down to the hoat, roughly handling every thing, and readv for a tight. Some things they half carried nwav beforc our eyes. I, more than onc«, caught them trying to twist the rudderirons out the stern-post. So I was not sorry when Capt. Tengstrom ordered theboatback to the brig, for some things l»elonging to Mr. Kekela, missionary there. 13ut, as we were pushing otl] two natives jumped on board. Thesc two natives, I cannot forget. They \vere both big. powerful men, almost naked, and tattoood from head to foot. Their skins wero dark; their eyes and hajr black; their teeth white. One wos young, good-looking, niul lively. As the boat struggled through the heavy surf, he spn\ng on her bow.deck, and tixed his evc on cither the vessel or the sea. The object, whatever it was, aroused nll hii> powers. In a roptureof joy,hejumped up and down, throwing his big arms in the air. L wondered that he did not loose his balance, and fall overboard. And he addresscd something, whether sea or vessel, 1 know noi. His voice \vas impassioned> but rausical; whilo his countenance was lighted up with smilcs. indeed, though a heathen, his whole appearance was sublime. I could nol heip admiring, nav, loving him. Whata figure for a pninter!" thought I. "Andwhata pity such a man is not a Christian !" For he was n well made man, both in mind and body. He evidently had mueh natural, it not moral, abitity. And he is a fair specimen of thousands in tliese islands. 1 liked him at first sight. We someti»nes exchanged ' and smiles, the onlv wny we could ct>mmuu,v~ . . , " . , - . . And 1 soroet»mes pravea tor mv heathcn „ * * . .u » * God to save him. lhus the bond o»', . . i« i ~*thv between I u? grew strong, as wuf be seen. ] Tbe othcr native \vas o(der, and neariy Maek. He stood ful!y six f«et, with bro«d *houiders, and bones iike an ox. We ga\-e him an oar. whieh he pulled insilence, looking down. Thus, sutlcniy and carelessly, he pulled like a gaiiey-slare. He was most uusoeiable, never iook»ng at us direcUy, with a lrotheriv smile. No, he always looked at us askance, hangiog his biack, bushy head, as if gu»lty. (n hisdark stony eoumenanee, tbese was no trace o! human kindnes& ln; short, he appesred sociaiiy de»d. So, to revive the poor man, l sometimes iooked atj hiu» wiih a persevering sunle. Thus 1 pro- ] voked him to reiax his grim features, a»d! smiie in return. But the Hlbrt seemed pain* ! fu{-to him. When he Mnilei?, ho re«Hv! looked hideous, iike a gaivlni2ed corj«e., I'/>or man! He had a hang dog, repuisivc 1

look. • Ferhaps, in his youth, he had helped j Co kill and eat many n man. Nay, perhaps ■ the ghosts of murdered white men haunted ; him in the boat. Yet he \vas religious in | his way; religious, perhaps, as a Thug. He i broU£ht with him an o!d, worn cocoanut I 3 i shell, slung with small cord, made from the | husk. When we got off shore, he for somc-1 time held up this old shel!; and, when the ' wind whistled in the hole, he eagerly listen- ! ed, looking solemn as death. Aiul, when 1 the boat neared the shore, he held the shell ! over the boat, listoning, and looking as be- j fore. Some smiled, and one laughed, at the ! old man and his shell. But the sound of | \vind or water, in that old shell was to him, i no doubt, the voice of God. Poor idolator! | For conrenfence, I will eall him Black; and \ the other, Brown. When about half-way to the brig we laid our oars in, and get sail. Now Bl«ck comes aft, and sits by Brown, who is holding the main-sheet. And he speaks earnestly to} him, but in a low voice, hanging his head. j At the same time he looks steadly at a deep ' in!et behind a rocky point, at the entrance of the bay. Brown olso looks there, speaking low, and turning to his neighbour, who looks askance at my feet. At this, Brown starts, nlmost shudders, as atsomething hornble. He answers sharply, and looks me directly in the face. Meeting my speaking gaze, he colours a little, and tries to sraile. Black now tooks bitterly disappomted. Half rising up, he angrily mutters something, again !ooking at the inlet and my feet. Brown acts as b<rfore. Again and nga»n, this painful scenc is repeated. Black is desperntcly in earnest about something. He ; would evidently cngage Brown in some j dcsperate, if not bloody, business. All this | time Brovvn hay a uionstrous knife, closely i wrapped up in h:s dirty cotton shrrt, lyin? j on the shaft. Well may he look at me, and j blush critnson, when he uncovcrs thisdeadly j wenpoo. I did not know he \vas nrmed; j but Black knew it, perhaps too well. When I going ashore, they sat apart, and silent, j lookiog inost miserable. Aod when the | boat touched the beach, they jumped overin the surf and fled. 1 saw them [ | again, av time< t hey shunned me. ' \ They would not ev en utMrn my luuj . . | they werc so afraid of being ivcogno2<d. ,|And whv? Befare 1 answer, I will first ; | show whai so«ue of theac islanders are yei i eapahle of. On Hivaoa, is another missionary station. j called Atuona. Like Puamau, ii b 6itaated ] on a finc bay; and occupied by Mr. Hapa. | ku. About a raile trotn Atuona, is another bay, shaped like a horse-sboe, with good anj chorage for ships, At thc mouth of this | t»y we landed the C4ptain and othe«, who j walked across to Aeuooa, Then w*eanchored j the boat, leavin£ one of the crew ashore ' ainong the natives. They wanted his sheath- ? knife, whieh he wouUi not not give thein. j Then they presscd upon him, speaking loud t

anii lc<r*\ūz yiT:c:cns. Im: -al-e r y he j : sp nn? mto ihe $ea, aihi swim to the fco.3t j orj hīs b«ck. For he they oiīght j kia an<i even eat him. piekinp his hi W35 a ioneiV p'iee; an'i tbe sar;tp;-5 ?vere ! ; armeii wīth moskets, koīre-8, an<i sp«ear^' They oUen iook«d eager!y at us, half unsheathir»g their £rreat knires, and band!ißs: , their ōrms. as if thr-y feU inclin«d to use ; tbem. indevd, I feared they wou!d attack ; the fc»cat and kīii us. Dīd not the nacives \ {ate!v kīH, and then eat. a man at Nuahira, a neighb<>uring island ? Yes, two ki!!eti the man ; while ei>ht stood by, vviid!y shoutsng, 14 Kiil hini! kill htra P And, when he was kilied, tbey ate hina raw, tearin£ the bloodT flesh with their fine teeth. The guiity parties are now at Tahui, in the hands o{ French justice. And the natives of Hivaoa are quite as bad. They are quīte eapahle of eating a man, if report be true. Now ! return to Biack and Brown, the two natives of Puamau. For my part, I have no doubt that B!ack and Brown are both gui)ty. The natires of Puamau are, as I hare said, r.otorīousiy wicked. Mr. Kauwealoha wanted the son of a neighbouring chief to cro to Puamau ; school. The father, Makohi, was wiiiin<r: i *O ' \ but the boy refused with tears. '-lf,"saidj he, " i go to Puamau, they wiii kili and eat j me." Indeed, few natives have the couraae! to leave home ; so gTeat their fear uf bein£j eaten, or stoien. And if the natives of Pua- j inau ean eat one another, why eannoe they j seize n whaleboat ? The day before we i landed, Capt. Tengstrom faithfuliy warned | me against the nativesof Puamau, "Tomor-i row," said he, lk we are going to a verv bad plaee. it is worse than any pioee we have been at yet. The natives there are the worst on these islands. They tried to take our boat iast voyage. So do not ieave the boat, orallow the men to ieave her." But, as i have shown, two natives jumped on board, when we were pushing ofT. And, if looks and aelion mean any thing, the old one proposed to murder me first, and then carry the boat into the creek. For a time, I a!most despaired of life. The idea of being murdered,and then thrown overboard was dreadful. i did not wish to go to Heaven in that way. So I prayed to God ; and not in vain. God, " who is rīch in rnercy," inclined j Brown to favour us. But let navigators take warning. J. B. Tullocii.