Revised Jun 1 2021
IN the course of our narrative we now return to the two families on Pitcairn. Their first night on shore was passed in one of the old houses which was so thickly covered with a growth of the wild bean that all felt sure it would afford the best protection against rain, if rain should fall. But they were soon convinced of their mistake when, during the night, a pouring rain roused them from their slumbers by coming in upon them through the frail covering of the vines. Early the next day they removed to another house, which afforded better accommodations, and where they stayed until their own cottages were repaired. They had but just finished the work of arranging their new abode to the best advantage when some of the young girls sallied forth accompanied by one of their mothers, to have a look around the forsaken place. When only a short distance from the house, they espied, coming towards them through the bush-grown path, two men, who had just come ashore from a ship, unknown to any of the party on the island. At sight of the strangers, one of whom was carrying a gun, the other being a colored man, the woman and girls screamed and fled, one of the girls in her terror dropping several feet from the boughs of an orange tree up which she had climbed.
Impelled by a haunting dread that something awful was about to happen, they ran in breathless haste toward the house where the other woman and children were. Their frightened looks told plainly enough that something unusual had occurred, and, crowded close together, the story of what they had seen was repeated. But they congratulated themselves on the fact that their retreat would not be easily discovered, as the path was well nigh hidden from view by the thick growth of weeds and bushes. Worst of all, their natural protectors were all absent from home at the time. Their terror could be better imagined than described when, a few minutes having passed, the black man's face appeared through an opening in the trees, and immediately behind him was his white companion. The lot of timid women and children could scarce refrain from shrieking aloud, but the colored man assured them, with a pleasant smile, that there was nothing to fear, and that the gun was brought on shore for other game than themselves. It did not take long to quiet their fears, when they discovered that the black man was really a pleasant-spoken, kindly person; but the other man held aloof, and scarcely had a word to say. They both gladly accepted food from the hands of the women, who also gave them permission to take all the fruit that they wished.
The visitors informed them that they had just come ashore from a whaler, the William Wirt, and had brought their ammunition with them for the purpose of obtaining game. Another whale ship came in on the same day, and their respective crews carried back to their ships a large supply of animal food, which they had taken in hunting, viz., goats, fowls, and fish, as all were so easily obtained on account of their great numbers.
The search for hens' eggs gave much pleasant occupation to the young people, as the island was nearly overrun by the immense increase of fowls; nor were the older folk less active in going out on an egg hunt than the children. Life for them seemed one continuous round of present enjoyment. There was scarcely any need for work, as the island produced in lavish abundance more than sufficient, both of animal and vegetable food, for their every want—goats, sheep, fowls, and plenty of fish, which had become tame through having been left so long in their undisturbed freedom. One obstacle in the way of the young people's pleasures was the presence of the few cattle on the island, the mere sight of which was enough to make them run for refuge to the nearest tree, if not within easy distance of their homes. As the island is too small to allow the increase of cattle upon it, it was thought best to extirpate them; and, most unwisely, the doomed cattle were in time all destroyed.
During those years the productiveness of the island was remarkable. The breadfruit, yams, potatoes, taro, as well as the delicious fruits that grew on the island, seemed untouched by the curse. It did not seem possible that in a few years a change so complete could take place as to affect almost the entire productions of the island. But so it was. Being abundantly provided with food supplies, with scarcely an effort of their own, the two families had not much to do. The making of tappa, however, gave employment to all during three or four months of the year, and heavy work it was too, with all the various processes through which it passed. A description of the work may be given here.
First, the plants must be cut down and divested of their bark. Each bark is then peeled and the inner portion beaten out until it becomes soft, and the fibers separate. Washing is the next thing, and this is repeated until every trace of the abundant sap is removed. By this time the substance has widened to five times its natural width, and has a beautiful lace like appearance. It is then wrapped up in the large leaves of the appi (arum gigantum), sufficient being inclosed in the wrap to make a sheet. Being allowed to remain for a few days, it becomes soft and almost pulpy. Then it is ready to lay out in strips of the required length, one bark being laid over another until the proper thickness is obtained. The whole is then beaten out, two persons being required to do this, as they stand on the opposite sides of a large, long, and smoothly planed log, called a "dood-a," and with their heavy beaters keeping time with the utmost exactness. The work is noisy and tiresome. When each sheet is finished, it is hardened by spreading out daily in the sun. This is continued until the paper-like fabric can bear washing. To render it tough it is dyed, the dye being obtained by steeping the red inner bark of the doodooee (candlenut tree) in water. When dry the dye has a reddish brown color, which is very pretty when fresh.
Most of this disagreeable work was performed by the two mothers of the families, as they could not trust the delicate work of handling the easily injured sheets to the inexperienced hands of the young girls. These, from the age of eight to thirteen, grew up in almost entire ignorance of the art of sewing, and this for the good reason that they had nothing to learn with. Thread was too precious to waste in teaching the children to sew, and should the few needles break or be lost, there was no prospect of replacing them; besides, every bit of calico which might be used for the purpose of learning to sew was carefully hoarded as a future patch for the garment, which only too readily became threadbare. Usually a slit in the sleeve or side of a frock or petticoat was drawn together by means of a string which the fibrous bark of the boo-ron tree supplied. But these girls enjoyed their wild, free life notwithstanding, and were happy in the possession of perfect health, plenty to eat and drink, and their garments, if poor, and even ragged, were kept as clean as the nature of their duties allowed, while in their persons they were particularly clean.
Living such a free, wild life as they did, and with so much idle time on their hands, it is not to be wondered at that the young people, unaided, would turn their attention to books, and seek to educate their minds in the knowledge to be gained from them. This fact caused much anxiety to two, at least, of their number, Sarah McCoy, the oldest girl, and also her brother. These two young people had been members of Mrs. Selwyn's class during their two years' stay on Norfolk Island, and nothing had caused them more regret on leaving that place than the fact that they were by their removal cut off from so many of the educational advantages obtained there, having just experienced enough of the pleasures of knowledge to make them long for more. Urged by the necessities of the case to do what they could, these two young persons collected what books they thought would help them, which they found in the old schoolroom, together with slates and pencils, and opened a school in Mr. Nobbs' former study, for a class of six or seven girls and one boy, giving them lessons in reading, writing, and spelling, teaching them also addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division.
But searching for hens' eggs, taking care of chickens, running with a wheelbarrow down some steep hill, swinging on the long hanging roots of the great banyan trees, and other employments of a like nature, were far more congenial to the tastes of the lively, healthy, and active-limbed children than to sit droning lazily over their books and drawling out "Ab-ba, father," and so on; and when for some misbehavior the youthful teacher would remonstrate, he would be greeted with a derisive laugh; or should he attempt to administer the rod, he would be met with such a spirit of defiance that his attempts at punishment would be useless. Such scenes usually ended in the unruly scholar climbing with the agility of a cat up the posts of the house, where he would look down upon his teacher and feel secure from the well-merited punishment.
In spite of such untoward behavior from the older children, the long-suffering teachers succeeded in accomplishing what they had set themselves to do, and had the satisfaction of seeing their trying pupils accomplish the task of learning to write, in addition to their being able to read. They also learned to spell fairly well, and were able to master the simpler rules in arithmetic. In October, 1860, H. M. S. Calypso visited the island, staying a few hours. The chaplain of the ship came on shore, and manifested much interest in regard to the religious instruction of the children and their right bringing up. On leaving, the kind visitors supplied the little school with books, slates and pencils, copy books, pens, penholders, and ink, a gift which was thoroughly appreciated and most thankfully received.
On Sundays the two families met for worship in Moses Young's house, each of the two men at times taking part in conducting the services, but more frequently the master of the house officiated, and in strict accordance with the Church of England liturgy in the Book of Common Prayer.
"Shed o'er her heart a ray
Of wisdom's glorious day;
Loved be Victoria's sway—
God save the Queen,"
were sung in a manner expressive of the singers' entire satisfaction in the performance. Their leader, however, thought differently, and, waiting until the last notes had ceased, he turned to his pupils a face beaming with hardly-suppressed mirth, and remarked, "Your singing sounds just like the noise made by a swarm of big flies." He then burst into a merry peal of laughter, in which he was joined by his whole class.
In October, 1862, H. M. S. Charybdis paid a short visit to the island. It being impossible to land at Bounty Bay, the visitors went around to the west side, where the first half of the way led up a steep, high hill. But the walk was cheerfully accomplished, and a warm hospitality was extended them when they reached the little village, a substantial repast of the best that the island afforded being prepared for them. The two humble homes were made to look their best, and the carefully hoarded linen and cotton sheets were brought out and displayed upon the beds, in honor of the visitors.
The Charybdis stayed only a day, taking a good Supply of all that the island produced. So fruitful was the little island at the time of their visit that the officers declared that it seemed "like a little Garden of Eden." A printed account of the visit of the Charybdis to Pitcairn was sent to Norfolk Island. The news, when received, after the long silence of nearly five years, created an excitement among relatives and friends not to be described, and smiles and tears followed each other in quick succession as the short but interesting description of the old home and the loved ones there was read and reread to ears and hearts that seemed never to grow weary of listening.