Revised Jun 1 2021
THE schooner St. Kilda, which conveyed the second return party to Pitcairn Island, leaving Norfolk Island on the 18th of December, 1863, reached its destination on the 2d of February, 1864, the voyage being on the whole a pleasant one. It was night when the little ship reached the end of her voyage, a beautiful night, calm and clear, and the unsuspecting folks on shore did not dream of seeing on the morrow the long absent faces of relatives and friends, and were preparing to retire to rest when a musket's sharp report from over the water broke the stillness. On board all was excitement and bustle, muskets firing, the young men hallooing and burning flash lights to attract the attention of those on shore, even calling some of them by their names, as the vessel was close to the land.
The perfect Babel of sounds soon succeeded in rousing, not the peaceful inhabitants only, but their terror as well. Leaving their homes, they hurried down to that part of the land overlooking the sea, whence the noise proceeded, to try to find out the cause of such a commotion. An undefinable dread took possession of their hearts when they saw the lights and heard the repeated sharp reports of the muskets across the water. The children were cautioned not to expose themselves, but to remain hidden behind the thick shrubs and trees, lest a stray ball should hit them, for they did not know that nothing but powder was put in the barrels. No answering response was made from the shore to those on board, the frightened islanders deeming it more prudent to maintain perfect silence and wait until morning to learn the cause of all the disturbance.
Very early the next morning two of the men went off in their canoes, and were agreeably surprised to find that the formidable foe of the previous night was only a party of old friends come to settle again in their former home. As soon as possible the boat was lowered and the passengers taken ashore. They were not a little amused to find that girls on the island had by no means recovered from their fright, but, on the approach of the first persons who landed, ran away in different directions to hide themselves, and could scarcely be persuaded by their mothers to come out and greet their friends. By degrees, however, their extreme shyness wore off, and soon they were chatting away with one another about all that had taken place since their long separation.
With the exception that the once-cultivated grounds were all overrun with weeds, and the houses mostly were in ruins, there did not seem to be, to the eyes of the older people, at least, any change in the island. But to the younger people the change from the island they had just left made a great impression, the dwelling houses and kitchens, in their ugly bareness and smoke-begrimed appearance, contrasting unfavorably with the neatly-built houses and tidy kitchens they had been accustomed to. The ovens, too, where most of the cooking was done were only holes dug in the ground, the required heat being obtained from a number of small stones which were placed over a pile of wood after the fire had been kindled to heat the stones. The covering for such ovens consists of leaves, and over these a thick layer of earth, which effectually prevents the escape of the steam, which so thoroughly and so well cooks the food that is placed within.
The appearance, too, of the little village was so different from the place where they had lately lived! Instead of a long row of houses neatly standing side by side, facing a broad and well-paved street, here were only a few humbly-thatched dwellings—only two of which were habitable—half hidden amongst the thick growth of trees which surrounded them. But the general appearance, so different, was none the less beautiful, and the sight of the orange groves, displaying their wealth of golden fruit, was a very pleasing picture to the young folks, who had never seen such a sight before. Near to these could be seen the breadfruit trees, with their large, beautiful leaves, growing side by side with the glossy, dark-leaved fei, or mountain plantain, its heavy bunch of fruit being supported in an upright position by a stout stalk shooting direct from the center of the leaves, while here and there a cocoanut tree lent its graceful aid to beautify the scenery. Towering over all, and lovely in their delicate, light-green foliage, were the wide-spreading branches of the mighty banyan tree, whose roots, as they hang from the boughs overhead, prove such a strong temptation to the boys and girls to go swinging on them. Sometimes an accident happens when swinging on the roots of the banyan trees, but in no instance has it ended fatally, and in one case only were there any bones broken.
Everything about the island, and the manner of cooking and living in general, interested the young people greatly. Never before had they heard such a chorus of cock crowing in the early morning, or the endless chirpings of numberless chickens, as they followed their clucking mothers. The boys and girls, to whom such a free, wild life was a desirable change from the confinement of a long voyage, entered heartily into the fun of going out in search of hens' eggs, an abundance of which was found all over the island. The time to them passed quickly, like one long holiday, for in the unsettled state of things they were not confined to any school duties.
There was much to hear and tell on both sides. One story that greatly interested the newcomers was that of a Peruvian ship, loaded with natives, that came to Pitcairn from Easter Island the year before, 1863. The captain of the ship, on coming near enough, ordered a boat to be lowered and manned. He himself went in the boat to seek for a landing place. The people on shore observing the boat approaching, two men went off in a canoe to meet the strangers. The captain accosted them with the question, "Can you speak Anglice?" Receiving an answer in the affirmative, he said that he was going ashore to see if he could get some sugar cane for a load of slaves he had on board, whom, he informed them, he was taking to their homes. On coming ashore he tried by many arguments to persuade every member of the two families to accompany him back to the ship, where, he assured them, they would receive kind treatment. One thing he objected to was their knowledge of the English language, and he told them also that their skins were not as dark as he expected to find them.
The captain's entreaties for them to go on board, and his oft-repeated expressions of kindness toward them, served to arouse their suspicions, and they firmly declined; however, the two men who had been to meet the boat went on board the ship. There they saw a sight which they could not easily forget. Numbers of poor natives of different ages, from quite young children to men and women in and beyond middle life, many of whom were entirely naked, were crowded into the close and stifling hold of the ship. Those who were not entirely naked had a waistcloth only for their covering. All seemed sad, and their countenances bore the trace of much sorrow, and had a look of hopeless misery. The atmosphere of the place where the poor natives were confined was very unwholesome from want of fresh air, and many of the slaves were suffering from a distressing cough that shook their frames. The captain told them that he was going to the Gambier Islands, on his way to restore the poor creatures to their homes.
It was not until many years had passed that the truth about the ship and her business was made known. The natives were being taken to the Peruvian Coast to work as slaves, and the captain was trying to get all he could to go with him. Long afterwards some of the survivors returned to their home on Easter Island, but with their return were introduced certain diseases which until then had been unknown among their people. So their home coming was as much a cause of regret as of rejoicing.
While the two families on Pitcairn Island were blessed with robust health and plenty of food, their clothing was very scanty, and was made to do service long after it was threadbare, and while scarcely of sufficient body to hold together. Their very limited supply was obtained from whale ships that once in a long while would call in to obtain fresh provisions. On one occasion they were imposed upon in the following manner: The captain of a certain whale ship, requiring something fresh in the way of fruit and other things, called in at the island to obtain a supply. He took from the islanders one hundred and eighteen fowls, a number of hogs, about eighteen barrels in all of yams and potatoes, and large quantities of fruit, the getting of which and carrying them down to the landing place occupied the handful of men and women and the few children that were old enough to help, for a whole week. The people were sorely in need of clothing, which could very well have been sold them in payment of what they gave, but they received in return about sixteen yards of calico, three boxes of soap, two of which carried together just made a comfortable load for a boy to carry, and the bargain was finished by the addition of a coil of rope and two half worn-out tubs, which served the purpose of emptying the mud out from the wells on the island that required cleaning. The captain pleaded hard times as an excuse for what he gave, and the people had to be satisfied with such an explanation. But in telling the story afterwards many a hearty laugh was had at their own expense, seeing how easily they were imposed upon and how they took it as a matter of course.