VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS THE BORZOI POCKET BOOKS A POPULAR EDITION OF SOME OF THE BEST BOOKS OF OUR OWN AND OTHER AGES. THE TITLE PAGE HAS BEEN DE- SIGNED BY ELMER ADLER. NEW YORK: ALFRED A KNOPF VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS A LOVE STORY FROM PELLI ISLAND TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH OF LAURIDS BRUUN BY DAVID PRITCHARD ALFRED -A- KNOPF COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY ALFRED A. KNOPF, INC. Pocket Book Edition, Published December, 1997 [Original Title: Van Zantens Lykkelige Tid] KANTJTACTCHED IK THE UNITED STATES OF AldBICA VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 2021324 INTRODUCTION VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS: A Love Story from the Pelli Islands, is the English translation of the title of a book, written by the Dutchman, PIETER ADRIAAN VAN ZANTEN, who was born in Amsterdam on 3rd January 1846, and died in Paris on 15th November 1904, of inflammation of the lungs, at an hotel meuble, situated in Rue de Pension behind Luxemburg Hospital, Rue Dame-des- Champs. The MS. is written partly in Dutch and partly (from Chapter X. onwards) in English, and, according to a diary also extant, these two sections correspond to two different periods of time separated by at least ten years. Furthermore, it is probable that the last chapter was written to complete the story, at a time when the author meditated publishing the manuscript in book form a plan which, for 7 8 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS some unknown reason, he subsequently aban- doned. The present story is the only one of the MSS. left us by Van Zanten, mentioned in his diary as intended for publication during the author's life- time, and as the story appears to have been com- pleted and given a title with that purpose in view, I have selected it as the most suitable for inaugu- rating the series. In the following pages of the introduction I shall explain utilizing information obtained both from Van Zanten personally and from the diary he left behind who Van Zanten was; and how it occurred that I, a Danish author, come to introduce him into the realms of liter- ature. In so doing I wish it to be understood that I make no attempts at literary portrait-painting that belongs elsewhere and may be published later but merely content myself with intro- ducing actual facts which may help to throw a light upon a strange and remarkable book, the author of which has fulfilled a strange and re- markable destiny. Van Zanten' s father was a prosperous instru- ment merchant in Amsterdam, whose wife died VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 9 so long before that the son could but dimly recollect her. The father spending most of the day in the shop, the boy's education was left chiefly to the housekeeper, a strict, reserved woman whom he disliked. He generally shifted for himself, spending most of his spare time roaming round about the harbour. When Adriaan was twelve years old his father married his housekeeper. The boy took this much to heart, and, immediately after his con- firmation, was sent, at his own request, to his father's cousin, who owned a large factory at Batavia, there to receive a business education. Nothing is written in the diary about his years of apprenticeship at Batavia; I remember, how- ever, Van Zanten once telling me in Paris that he was left almost entirely to the mercy of his fellow-clerks, from whom he learnt first and foremost to play cards and drink whisky; and that soon afterwards he had a violent attack of malaria, during which he was nursed at his half- uncle's house; and that this experience caused him to avoid whisky for many years afterwards. Furthermore, he once confided in me that he experienced his first serious disappointment during these early years, through being jilted 10 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS by a very pretty and very experienced cousin (probably his chief's daughter), with whom he had fallen hopelessly in love. This affair is obviously at the root of his bitter antagonism to European "ladies," which is constantly in evidence in his works, and which I remember so well in our conversations. One of his favourite theories was that the so-called savage woman was, both physically and morally, far superior to the civilized European woman, or at any rate to her representatives in colonial "society." Already, when quite young, Van Zanten showed an extraordinary capacity for under- standing and being understood by the natives. He would never admit that they were inferior to himself, and, in spite of many disappointments from the city-bred demoralized specimens with whom he came mostly in contact, treated them always as his equals. For the purpose of utilizing this valuable characteristic, which, moreover, tended to under- mine discipline in the town and at the head office, he was sent (while yet in his teens) as independent buyer to the South Sea Islands. The firm's chief business was in coffee and spices, and supplies were preferably obtained from those small islands VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS n where the European had not yet taught the natives the value of their products, and so "contami- nated" the market. Van Zanten, possessing as he did his share of the inbred boldness of the Dutchman, became in these years more intimate with the tropical island nature than probably any European before him. He acquired an exact knowledge of the Micro- nesian and Polynesian life and thought. He has repeated to me times out of number that the years he spent as the sole white man among the natives, especially among the Micronesians and in the Caroline and Ladrone Islands, were the happiest of his life. Significant in this connection is the title of the present book. From the diary, which is frequently very terse and incomplete, it is not clear which islands he visited or how long he remained on each. The gaps in the diary are possibly due to the ab- sence of writing materials in the primitive con- ditions which he adopted when living alone among the natives. Crowding the pages are the names of innumer- able small islands, to which from time to time he made expeditions from his permanent base on one of the well-known larger islands. It has 12 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS been found impossible to identify these islands owing to the names being apparently written phonetically from the native pronunciation. In the diary he constantly assumes that the locality is known ; the dating also is in the highest degree incomplete, and frequently unintelligible to one not acquainted with the language. Where he had no calendar to hand he contented himself with reckoning, after the native fashion, from the monsoon and moon changes. He occasionally gives, with great care, an unbroken succession of dates for instance : Monday, the 3rd ; Tuesday, the 4th ; and so on ; but both the name of the month and the number of the year are left to the imagi- nation. He lived on Yap Island in the Caroline group for five years as depot chief, and concludes one sec- tion of the diary with the entry under January 1872, that he has received commands to return to Batavia; but that as he does not wish to do so, he has decided to send in his resignation and receive the pension due to him after ten years' service. He intends to accompany Tongu to the latter's native island, which, he writes, is said to be an absolute Paradise. That he carried out this plan is evident from the present book, which deals with Tongu's island, named by the natives them- VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 13 selves Pelli Island, and incontestably one of the Pelew group, situated south-east of the Philip- pines, between the sixth and eighth parallels of latitude. On this island, if one may judge from the nar- rative, he spent more than two years a happy time, which ended with the catastrophe related in the last chapter, after which he departed. With Tongu's and Toko's help he succeeded in reaching Yap Island, whence he took the first boat home to Batavia. The diary here relates that he once more entered the firm's service. In the ensuing two years, spent quietly in Ba- tavia, he must have written the first, or Dutch, portion of the story. He calls this his "aesthetic period," during which he settled down to club life, studied literature, and dabbled in writing with the intention of becoming an author. For unknown reasons he abandoned this intention, and, according to the diary, once more went abroad as the agent of the firm. He acted as Depart- ment chief and buyer both on the Marshall and Solomon Islands, but in 1880 was once more in Java. Then in 1882 he received a letter from his father asking him to return to Holland. Old Van Zanten had had an attack of apoplexy, and, feel- 14 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS ing his end draw nigh, wished to see his son once again. Van Zanten wound up his affairs and sailed for Europe, but before he arrived his father had died. After sharing with the widow whom he does not appear to have met personally, the diary mention- ing only letters there remained, when the estate was realized, sufficient capital to enable him to spend the rest of his life as a private gentleman. Having no heirs, he bought an annuity and set- tled in London, where, until 1892, he lived a soli- tary and regular club life. During this period the English section of the book was written, and it was then that he again entertained serious thoughts of embarking on authorship. What fresh consideration or experience caused him to abandon the plan, the diary does not relate. But soon afterwards he is found in Paris, and now begins a period of restless travelling, which, with the exception of an occasional quiescent year spent in Paris, London, or Naples, lasted until his death. The first time I met Van Zanten was at a boarding-house at Berne in the winter of 1895. For three weeks we lived in adjacent rooms and took our meals in common. My first impression of him was not favourable. He was tall and fat, with thick, light red hair and beard, rather lazy VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 15 movements, and a pair of large blue eyes which to use one of his own words had a peculiar "blank" expression. He appeared unemotional and blase. It a- mused him to offend others by expressing his contempt for European civilization and for Euro- pean women. When one day he discovered by chance that I was an author, he at once became interested, and, without at this time hinting that he also wrote, threw off his reserve and told me long and interesting accounts of his life among the South Sea Islands. Despite his half-hundred years, he could, when the spirit moved him, relate in a most youthful manner, provided his audience listened quietly without interrupting him with questions. Wit- tily, boldly, and at the same time feelingly, he talked of his "happy years," as he called them. So vivid and realistic was his recollection that he was often compelled to call a pause to fight down his emotion. So new and extravagant was much of it to me that, in spite of my intense interest, I privately condemned half of it as travellers' lies. But when I came to know him better, I realized that I had wronged him. Veracity and contempt for all exaggeration were in reality fundamental 16 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS principles in his nature. Later on, in Paris, I learnt to know him as one of the most upright, and in the depths of his nature most noble-hearted, men I have ever met, whether at home or abroad. In spite of the difference in our ages we became fast friends. When I departed from Berne he asked for my address, but made no use of it. I did not meet him again until, one January evening in 1899, I saw him sitting outside the Cafe d'Harcourt in the Boulevard St. Michel in the "Quartier Latin," where he was enjoying the ragging of the students. We stared for some time at one another; then he lifted his glass and nodded to me, and I has- tened over to his table. After that we met each evening at Harcourt's. Like all lonely people it was difficult for him to stop talking once he had begun to let himself go. Many and many an hour have we walked along the boulevard discussing the South Sea Islands, to which subject he inevitably returned. Europe made him feel uncomfortable, he said. I be- lieve that what prevented him ever actually yield- ing to his violent home-sickness for the islands was the fear of disillusionment on seeing the re- sults of European "culture," which, since his happy days, had made such enormous progress, VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 17 especially after the Germans took a hand in the work. One evening when I visited him at his lonely and sombre hotel rooms in Rue Jacob we chanced to be discussing literature, and I exhorted him earnestly to write an account of his experiences. Then it was that he confessed his previous literary skirmishes, mentioning his aesthetic period at Ba- tavia, when he "did both verse and prose," and half shamefacedly, half proudly, told about his diary and the manuscripts which he still had by him. I asked him if I might read some of them. "Yes, when I am dead !" he replied, and changed the subject abruptly. Some evenings later, for the first time, he men- tioned Ali, the central character in the present story. He spoke hesitatingly and in a subdued manner, as if discussing a subject he would rather in reality have left untouched. Before I departed that night I endeavoured once more to persuade him to show me some of his MSS. "Ha! that would be something for an author!" said he teasingly, and began laughing heartily. "You shall have the whole lot when I am dead!" were his last words on this subject a i8 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS remark which I regarded as a joke. A few days later I returned home. This time we exchanged a few letters, but his became more and more brief, the last one I re- ceived being from Naples. My reply to the lat- ter remained unanswered. In the autumn of 1903, when I was again in Paris, I sought Van Zanten, both at our cafe rendezvous and at his hotel. But in vain; they did not even know his address. Upon my inquir- ing at the Dutch Consulate, however, I was in- formed that his furniture had been left in some hired rooms in Paris, while he himself was abroad, probably in the Colonies. I remembered his home-sickness, and abandoned all hope of ever seeing him again. To cover all eventualities, however, I left a letter at the Con- sulate (which they promised to forward upon ascertaining his whereabouts) in which I informed him of my vain search and of my longing to hear from him again. Whether this letter ever reached him, I know not; in any case, it was never answered, and the recollection of our friendship gradually faded into the background. Finally, in February last year, during my stay at Nice, I received a letter bearing the Dutch Con- VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 19 sulate crest and stamped with many postmarks. The letter, which had followed me from place to place, contained the announcement of Van Zanten's death, together with a copy of his will, in which he willed and bequeathed to "Mijnheer Laurids Bruun van Denemarken" a collection of MSS. and diaries, "and he shall be the sole judge of how much of the bequest is worthy of public perusal, as also the time and place of its publica- tion." In presenting to the world Van Zanten's first book, I not only discharge a cherished personal duty, but in addition believe that I am enriching literature with an interesting and remarkable work, which opens up a new and prolific source of poetical inspiration. It is a melancholy thought, how slight an inci- dent can change a man's whole career. If Van Zanten had followed his original plan and pub- lished his book, it would in all probability have appeared in the middle of the seventies, during his aesthetic Batavian period in other words, be- fore Kipling, who was born in 1865, had begun to think of capturing the Indian mainland for litera- ture. Now Kipling is world-famous, and justly -but Van Zanten, whose book with regard to 20 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS freshness of subject, originality of treatment, and intuitive power, so much reminds one of Kipling, died in obscurity, unknown to the world. I shall publish Van Zanten's remaining MSS. periodically in the intervals of my own writings, provided they prove suitable for production. With regard to publication abroad, an effort will be made to bring out the present book in an English and a Dutch edition; the remaining MSS. will probably also receive similar treatment. In conclusion I should like to add that in trans- lation I have followed the original very closely, and that I have omitted deliberately to correct grammatical and literal faults common to the be- ginner but here and there I have been compelled to tone down, and sometimes wholly delete words and expressions, the extreme "naturalness" of which, when taking into consideration Danish ideas, make a direct translation difficult. I pre- sume that Van Zanten, if he had published the book, would himself have made similar excisions of expressions which exceed the bounds of good taste. Some readers will perhaps consider that even now in this connection I have not been sufficiently strict. LAURIDS BRUUN COPENHAGEN, May 1908. CHAPTER ONE MY host and I were fishing over by the reef, when we heard some one shouting to us from the mainland, where stood a shivering old man jumping up and down in the coral ground, as if he were treading on hot bricks. I had not the faintest idea who he was, but the moment Tongu set eyes on him he flung down his fishing poles and sprang like lightning to the oars. "Wahuja!" he ejaculated, jerking his head excit- edly as a sign that I should hurry, whereupon I hastily pulled in the net, which had slipped off its long bamboo pole. "It's 'Long White-Ears,' " said Tongu, 1 poking me impatiently in the back with the handle of the oar. Then I knew. "Long White-Ears" was the King's chief man Prime Minister, Chamber- 1 Tongu is an old acquaintance. I met him first on Yap Island and helped him return to his native island. From him I learnt the language. 21 22 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS lain, all in one. It is the name the boys shout after him when he leaves the shelter of the King's House. His ears were quite five inches long, and covered with hair as white as the close-cropped curls of his head. "We quickly pulled the boat round, signalling to Wahuja, who had ceased hopping, and now stood looking towards us, his hands resting on his shivering knees. "It's the Tax!" I thought, my conscience telling me that though I had lived with Tongu on the is- land since the previous monsoon, I had paid noth- ing in return to the royal exchequer, whether of fish, fowl, or fruit. As long as I caught fish for Tongu and boarded with him, he paid taxes for us both. But of course in the long run such an arrangement could not hold good for such an extraordinary man as myself. "What does he want with us?" I demanded. "The King!" He said nothing more, but rowed with all his might. As we approached the land old Wahuja began hopping again. I made my greetings humbly, in the native style, and he received them graciously. His hands were shaking with cold, and his cheeks VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 23 sucked incessantly at his toothless gums. His small, piercing eyes searched me from head to foot, while he delivered his official speech. "The King's eyes are large," he said, nodding thoughtfully with his emaciated head, "very large !" Which, translated into European, meant, "The King is very much astonished !" I thought as much ! I carefully refrained from interrupting him; I tried to fling into my blue eyes and open face all the innocence and astonishment I could muster. My blameless expression merely irritated him, and he continued ominously: "The King's heart is withered !" Tongu slapped his thighs humbly, looking re- proachfully at the old man. The King's heart being withered meant that he was displeased. I still refrained from speech. "The King desires that the Rich Giver shall come immediately and cure his eyes." "The Rich Giver" was a confounded nickname given me soon after my arrival, because of my guns and my well-filled sea-chest. The name has stuck, and I know only too well what it means when it is used. "Very well !" I answere'd. 24 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS It was already past ten o'clock, and the morning sun shone mercilessly down on the hard, bumpy, coral rock on which we were standing. I led the way up to Tongu's house. Tongu solemnly stooped down and let Wahuja climb on his back. The tender-footed old skele- ton was thus carried in comfort over the coral strand, and deposited safely on the soft, fine sand farther inland. When we reached the house, the old man re- fused to enter, Tongu being so much his inferior. We left him sitting under a cocoa-nut palm, where he stretched out his legs and leaned back at his ease against the stem. I went inside to fetch a gift for the visitor. "I am a weak old man !" whined the minister, wiping his mouth suggestively with the back of his hand. "Stay here for a while !" invited Tongu ingrati- atingly. "I am a weak old man !" quavered the old fel- low again, painfully extending his swollen blue- black toes. At last I understood. I fetched my Java rum, the fame of which had evidently reached the Court, and poured him out a drink. The old man emptied the glass eagerly, but, be- VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 25 fore swallowing, let the spirit run round his mouth several times and gargled his throat. Then he licked the glass carefully both inside and out, at the same time squinting towards the bottle, which I thrust hastily in my pocket. Tongu and I were ransacking the sea-chest, looking for a suitable present, when the light from the low doorway became suddenly obscured. The old man's pride was not proof against his greed ! "I am a poor man," he whined, stretching out his hand. At that moment he saw one of the big, speckled bugs in a crevice in the bamboo wall. In a flash he grabbed it between his forefinger and thumb, put it deliberately in his mouth and swal- lowed it. Wahuja was the richest man on the island. Rumour had it that he had amassed a large Tabu 1 through extorting bribes from those anxious to keep in the good graces of the King. I found a pocket pencil with a silver top which I gave him. He bit it, smelt it, and finally stuck it in his hair with a deep sigh. Apparently he was not satisfied, but his face annoyed me so much that I took no notice. I decided on a red silk scarf from my Batavian period for the Queen; and for the King, an old 1 See note, p. 135. 26 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS pair of opera-glasses, given me by my chief's wife for Christmas at home in Java. Along the road which stretches from the shore to the King's House, and is paved with large flat stones we tramped off together. I saw Talao's boys, who at that time were not quite old enough for the Common House, 1 hiding behind a bamboo fence. "Long White Ears!" shouted one, ducking down out of sight. The old man pretended not to hear; but Tongu threw a stone in their direc- tion, hitting the fence with a resounding blow which raised the white dust. The boys jeered mockingly from a safe distance. When we came to the place where the road curves towards the King's House, we saw a row of inquisitive female heads peering out from the room behind the verandah. They disappeared as soon as they found themselves discovered. We crawled up an inclined plank, and, headed by Wahuja, crept through the narrow space be- tween the floor and the low-hanging roof of palm leaves. In the centre of the room, seated on a decorated pisang mat, was the King. There were only 1 See pp. 88ff. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 27 three walls to the room two side walls, each pierced by a window, and, facing the verandah, a thin bamboo partition in which was a wide door- opening. Behind the King, a little to the left, sat the Queen, on a separate mat. Wahuja bumped down on his stiff knees before the King, and whispered something we could not hear. He then beckoned me forward. I ad- vanced, leaving Tongu standing alone at the en- trance. Wahuja tiptoed to his mat, situated on the Queen's right. The King's Court, or body- guard, was seated before the bamboo partition, with their spears and clubs resting against the wall. The ladies of the Court the Kings other wives (together with the children) were clustered inquisitively behind the door-opening muttering to one another in subdued tones. The King was a fat, middle-aged fellow with a stomach so shining and distended that it over- lapped his tapa. 1 The hair of his head was brushed straight up and held in position by a comb, apparently of tortoise-shell. Around his arms were rows of dazzling-white human knuckle bones. He rose to his feet with difficulty and shook hands in the European manner. 1 Loincloth. 28 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS "Shanku, Sar!" * said he, showing his white teeth in a smile. This was the only English he knew; he was very proud of it, and used it on all official occasions. I greeted him in the native fashion, and, crouching on all-fours, wished him a long life and many sons. This pleased him; he gave me a playful shove, making signs that I was to sit at his side. I was, then, in favour after all ; it was all rubbish about the King's heart withering. Wahuja had exag- gerated in order to frighten me, and so earn a drink. The King had large eyes, greedy and melan- choly; they devoured me inch by inch, just as Wahuja's had done. The Queen was more aristocratic than her consort. She had red flowers in her hair, and in both ears, and round her neck two rows of pearls, at which she constantly glanced down ; she had, also, pearls round her wrists. She was tatooed black and green in two parallel zigzag lines, beginning at her neck and continuing down- wards over her breasts, which were scarcely larger than the King's. On each breast, with the nipplr as a centre, a flaming sun had been tattooed 1 Thank you, sir. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 29 She sat motionless, her open palms resting on the mat, and stared fixedly at me from under her indolent eyelids. But when my eyes met hers she turned her head aside, and made a noise like a cat being stroked the wrong way. The greatest ceremony was observed. With his own hands the King chose from his arm- basket 1 the finest betel-nut, himself cracked the white shell, cut the kernel in two with his ax of state, 2 sprinkled powdered lime on it from a per- forated pumpkin, found an extra juicy pepper leaf to wrap round it, and then handed me the tasty morsel. It was an absolutely first-class quid of betel. I had never in my life tasted a better, not even on Yap Island, where they are renowned for their betel. The King then made a quid for himself, and we sat chewing for a while in solemn silence, at intervals spitting the red juice far out across the bamboo floor. We chatted about the weather, and the fishing prospects in connection with the 1 All the natives carry a basket which hangs on the arm. and serves the purpose of a pocket. In it are placed betel nuts or anything else one puts in a pocket. 2 The King carries over his left shoulder as a mark of his dignity a small white ax with a handle made of wood, and head formed of the closed double shell of a giant mussel. All the natives carry such an ax, but the King's is smaller and of better workmanship. 30 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS change of monsoons. The King made a delicate allusion to the fact of his being aware that Tongu had the best fishing rights in the district. They so seldom had fish to eat at Court ; the taxes were paid for the most part in fruit and game, with an occasional suckling-pig. I promised to send him a whole basketful of fish, and assured him that I had not paid my taxes before, because of my desire to find something out of the ordinary something that would both make the King's eyes big and enlarge his heart. This speech delighted him. He showed his teeth, 1 and as I noticed his melancholy eyes fixed upon the bulge in my coat made by my flask and opera-glasses, I seized the opportunity to present my gifts. When the Court saw the flask, a chorus of grunts and rustlings and mutterings broke out along the whole wall. The women and children also expressed their joy on the King's behalf. He immediately took a long drink, and then, out of politeness, offered me the flask, but snatched it back again before I had time to refuse. The opera-glasses did not interest him very much they were only for the eyes. The Queen smacked her fat thighs together in delight when 1 The native expression for a smile. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 31 she received the silk scarf. She, however, re- covered her dignity immediately. She tried it first round her neck, then over her breasts, afterwards as a skirt, and finally round her arms. Each time she looked round towards the women in the background, who applauded so vociferously that the King was constrained to turn and shout: "Shut up!" Among them was a pretty girl of twelve, not quite old enough for the Common House, who sat in the doorway staring with big shining eyes, captivated by my grandeur. I could not resist nodding to her in the European manner, at which she nodded back, smiling over the whole of her sweet innocent face. Then came an elderly woman presumably her mother who took her by the scruff of the neck, threw her to one side, and sat down in her place, nodding and smiling vigorously at me. It was a poor exchange! The King stood up. The rum was beginning to take effect. He kicked me hard on the shin, a mark of honour among the natives, and invited me to dinner. Everybody now disappeared except the Crown Prince a supple seventeen-year-old youth with 32 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS a straight back and shifty eyes and Wahuja, who continued following close behind, listening attentively with his long ears. The King showed me the verandah and his unique cocoa-nut palms. Some of them were higher than a four-storied house. At a sign from his father the Crown Prince swarmed up one of them and knocked down a couple of fresh nuts. In a trice he was down again, and had cut a tri- angular hole in one of them, after which the King and I drank from the same nut, a very great honour. Then we returned to the room, where we in- spected the treasures. One was a rusty ship's cannon, which the King allowed me to attempt to lift. Another was an enema syringe, which was suspended on the wall by a piece of bass. The King showed me how well it squirted, and washed down one of the wall-bugs with it. In the middle of the wall was hung a picture of the Madonna, a coloured print torn from a monthly magazine. He informed me that it was "Sha Quivin" (the Queen), the great Queen of the whites with her little son ! The dinner was excellent. We had bread-fruit boiled together with yams, 1 1 A root tasting like potatoes. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 33 palm-cabbage of young cocoa-nut buds, which though rather coarse was otherwise very fresh and tasty. We had pigeons, roasted whole, entrails and all, and flying-fish backs garnished with pisang sap kneaded into balls. Flying-fish resem- bles, but is superior to, mackerel in taste. We drank freely of toddy, 1 and the King took an oc- casional pull at the rum flask. Everything was served tastefully and cleanly on young pisang leaves. Eating with the fingers is more agreeable than with knife and fork, once one has acquired the habit. For dessert we had taffa a thick pudding of squashed bananas and cocoa-nut sap. While we were eating, both the King and I had behind us a young girl with a leaf fan which never ceased moving. Even when His Majesty went outside between two of the courses the girl followed him with the fan. We enjoyed the food immensely. At the end the King was so pleased that he stretched himself full length on the mat, and told me to choose whatever I liked as a return gift. 1 Toddy is a sweet palm wine procured by cutting up young cocoa-nut stems. The sap ferments after a time, forming the wine. 34 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS I thought immediately of the girl, but dared not ask for her; perhaps she was one of his favour- ite children. Whilst I sat thinking, the Court returned, having eaten the remains of the feast, which is allotted them. Among them was a young, broad-shouldered fellow whose face I had noticed before on account of his warm, faithful eyes, resembling those of a dog. I asked the King to give him to me. He raised himself on his elbow and looked round, then he beckoned the man forward. The fellow leaped into the air with joy and flung himself face down- wards before me. They probably believed that I had rum in unlimited quantities at home in the chest. All the others looked sulkily and jealously at him. Then the King evidently wished to sleep. Wa- huja stole to my side and hinted that I had better take my leave. He whispered something to the King, who again got up hurriedly. While I thanked him and made my adieux in the native manner, he managed to recover a little of his royal dignity, and hiccoughed in a half-threatening voice something about my not forgetting the tax. I went out, and found Tongu nibbling one of the King's cocoa-nuts. He was hungry and sulky, VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 35 and kept pushing against my new retainer, who followed meekly at my heels. He told me his name was Tokosikasa. But, this being too much of a mouthful, I promptly reduced it to Toko. CHAPTER TWO TONGU had often mentioned "Our Fath- ers' Stone" in the woods to the west of the island. We decided to go there at sun- rise the next day. Toko said that close by there was a clump of bread-fruit trees which swarmed with vampire bats; I decided to shoot some of them on the same occasion. In the evening Toko prepared his bow, and I cleaned my gun. Tongu got the canoe ready and stocked it with cocoa-nuts, bananas, and yams, so that we were prepared for all eventualities. Toko woke first and sprang to his feet with a howl. He needs lots of air. If he does not get it, he becomes as slack and heavy as a thunder- storm. The eastern sky was like a monster mother-of- pearl shell streaked with silver. After a time the streaks became crimson, and finally, right down near the horizon, gold. Then suddenly the edge of the sun blazed out of the water, colouring the whole mirror red, and the mother-of-pearl 36 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 37 shrivelled up into pink fluff. When the molten ball was half-way up, the fluff vanished in the deep blue of the sea. For more than twenty years I have watched the sun rise among the is- lands, but I never tire of it. I never shall tire of it. The wind blew a trifle cold from the northeast. It was the beginning of April, just before the calm which precedes the monsoon. But as soon as the sun was right up, the breeze dropped. When we had worked the sleep from our joints, Toko could no longer contain himself. He started off at a run round the courtyard, so that Tongu's chickens flew flapping in all directions. Upon reaching the fence he steadied himself, grabbed two of the poles, and with a shriek of triumph executed a back somersault right over the top, landing triumphantly on his feet in the white sand. Tongu rushed out angrily through the gate, where Toko stood grinning at him, his hands rest- ing on his knees. It was the second time he had dared to insult Tongu's fence. The latter stooped down suddenly and scooped up a double handful of sand, intending to fling it in Toko's eyes, but when he looked up again the transgressor was already running full tilt towards the sea. 3 8 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS "Why take any notice of such a silly boy?" I said, repressing my laughter. And after calling down all the curses he knew upon Toko's yet un- born children, Tongu recovered his temper and be- gan to whistle. Toko was already in the canoe, which he pad- dled so far in towards the coral reef that the float- ing-keel 1 stuck. He began to jump up and down impatiently, watching us the while, and, to work off his superfluous energy, waved both oars vio- lently round his head. Tongu and I waded out to help him. Although Toko annoyed the dignified and bearded 2 Tongu, the latter was, nevertheless, very much attached to the mischievous young rascal, with his downy chin and smiling face. There is confoundedly little room in a canoe; I sat forward, with my knees jammed against my chin and my gun in my arms. Behind me crouched Tongu and Toko, each wielding a paddle, in the same cramped position. In this manner we slid out over the smooth la- 1 The canoe, being narrow and therefore easily capsized, is fitted with an auxiliary beam which floats parallel to the canoe, rendering it more stable. 2 A beard is a mark of importance on the island, and the word is used with this meaning even when the person referred to has no beard, e.g. in the case of a woman. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 39 goon, whose dead-white coral bottom several fathoms down showed palely through its light blue waters. Toko had too much energy for mere paddling. He shouted and jodelled till his throat vibrated, throwing his head up and back like a singing bird. The sounds had no definite meaning, he said; he simply sits in the morning sun and lets himself go. That is all. After a short time I began shouting, too, an old European fragment of song which I thought I had forgotten. Tongu joined in also. Our pace quickened; we flew along at a terrific speed, the floating-keel smothered in foam. Out on the reef the breakers roared. At inter- vals they swept right over the red, shining mass of coral. It reminded me of a huge bleeding wound rinsed with soapy water. Sea birds flapped shrieking over the wound, and sandpipers skimmed low over the surface of the la- goon. It was a glorious morning; the sky blazed like the dazzling facet of an enormous, dark blue diamond. We went about half-way across; the shore gleamed white with its fine coral sand, so that the eyes ached to look at it, although the sun was yet low in tbt heavens. Beyond the sand, just on the other side of the road leading from the 40 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS shore, the slim green pisang-banana palms with their enormous leaves fluttered in an atmosphere which was so transparent that I could distinguish the purple spots on their stems and leaves. The clusters of fruit themselves were as yet quite small and green. The cocoa-nut palms heaved their golden crowns high over the pisang grove. The sensitive leaf-edges vibrated in the blazing air, although there was practically no wind. Close in against the trunk (like a little yellow cloud among the leaves) shone the squat sheaves, with a score of fibre-covered nuts in each. It was the King's cocoa-nut grove, from which all the boys of the village stole as a matter of course. Beyond the palms again a few aged bread-fruit trees stretched their horizontal branches covered with enormous dark green foliage. The bullet- shaped fruit-flowers, each as big as a child's head, were green and ripe for plucking. Now we were opposite the last hut in our vil- lage, which was the King's village and the largest on the island. The other villages each had their own king, but our King did not recognize them, and affirmed that he was the sole ruler and owner of the island. Behind, and parallel with the stretch of sand, VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 41 ran a thick, dark coppice, consisting of wild pisang trees. They were smaller than the cultivated ones, and stood between mighty pandang bushes, the long, narrow leaves of which fit closely into one another. The coast turned suddenly towards the north- west. Still we maintained our speed, and soon caught sight of the yellow pandang-leaf roofs of the neighbouring village, a prosperous little vil- lage, of some twenty huts, strongly roofed and well founded upon beams. The stockades were high and solid, almost buried in luxuriant yam- tree leaves. The village was barely awake, sluggishly start- ing the day's work. Behind the huts, in a dark patch of low taro bushes, children were already playing hide-and-seek. As soon as they caught sight of us they rushed down to the edge of the water to stare at us. Before one of the huts a man stretched sleep from his limbs. By his side was his wife, with a baby crawling in her lap. Several young girls were playing about in the water. They shrieked like happy parroquets, splashing water in each other's eyes while they took their morning bath. They kept ducking under the water after some- 42 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS thing which they swallowed greedily, and tried to snatch from one another. Either they were sea slugs or a little pink mussel called muamua by the natives and prized by them above all other shell- fish. They shaded their eyes with their hands and stared out towards us. Some of them obviously made fun of us. Toko shrieked at the top of his voice that we would be there in a minute. On the right we saw the village canoe-house, much smaller than ours, in reality no more than a bamboo shed covered with loose cocoa-nut leaves, decorated by a single painted sun. We had a sun, a sitting woman, fish, birds, and a cocoa-nut palm. Also our roof was much loftier and better thatched. Two men were excavating the trunk of a bread- fruit tree with their little hatchets. When they caught sight of us, they waved their hatchets and shouted. We shouted again, while the women, their legs straddled in the white sand, stared at us in silence. Toko made the most disgraceful remarks to them, such as he would not have dreamed of say- ing to the women of his own village. It was impossible for them to hear him, but nevertheless ' VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 43 Tongu, who was as chivalrous as he was bearded, scolded him roundly. We passed them. . . . There apart from the others one hut more, in a cluster of pisang trees. A man was busy with the mature saplings. He felled one after the other with his white ax, which gleamed in the sunlight as he swung it. Children ran between his legs; but when the trees were about to fall, he pushed them away. The pisang tree sighed in its fall like a living thing. The man's wife plucked bananas from the fallen tree, throwing the over-ripe ones to the children, who scrambled for them like small, eager dogs. Then she split the stem and carefully extracted the pith. All were too busy to notice us. Again, we came to a dense coppice, where small green parrots shrieked. What was that another human being? Oh. a young girl ! She was completely nude, and had apparently just come out of the water, looking for grass for a new skirt. Every time she caught sight of a flower she picked it and put it in her hair, her slim, light brown arm glowing in the sun. Her body was beautiful, with firm, rounded hips. 44 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS After watching her for a while I became irritated. It was too much; after all, I was still young! Even Toko, used to that sort of thing, craned his neck and stared with all his might. CHAPTER THRE E THE copse came to an end. The ground was swampy, the reeds twice the height of a man; almost a jungle. "We go up here!" Tongu explained. Through the reeds a narrow stream cut its way, thousands of long vertical roots surmounted by dark crowns arching overhead. The water was smooth and clear and very dark. An awe-inspiring feeling of loneliness enveloped us. It was impossible to land ; the banks under the mangrove trees were one continuous mud-hole. Still, a little farther, paddling swiftly, I saw the mangroves divide on the left, revealing a stream, barely twenty feet broad. The trees met above our heads; only a shaft of light filtered along the river, with a patch of blue sky here and there. Trees hundreds of years old, but with tops still living, green and fertile, shut out light and air, their rigid branches, half decayed, covered with thick, green moss. The moss was starred 45 46 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS with green-leaved, red-flowering plants, creepers climbed up and down, weaving themselves to- gether into an impenetrable net, shutting out even sound. Hanging from the mighty, half-dead branches, straight down into the mud, the auxiliary roots sustained life in the parent stem by supporting it and by sucking up sustenance. Creepers hung everywhere between the stems, looking exactly like artificial rope-ladders leading to the tops of the trees. It was cool and dark here the transparent, deep green darkness of a crystal. It was still and quiet; the cries of the birds and the splash of the paddles gave back no echo. It was as if closely drawn blinds hung down from the roof of the forest. Bird-calls filled the air, but beyond an occasional flash of green or red I could see nothing of the singers. Again and again I cocked my gun, but in vain. Each time my eye lost the target. Pigeons cooed incessantly grey fruit-pigeons with red bumps over their beaks but it was impossible to distinguish them as long as they remained motionless. Even Toko's eyes were not sharp enough. At last we surprised a pair which were sitting VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 47 on one of the aerial roots nearest the water, drink- ing. They flew up startled, flapping toward the other side of the river. I hit one of them. We had to row right in among the roots, where Toko secured it with his oar. I shot another pair farther on. They are about the size of a young chicken, and make excellent eating. In addition, I potted several green parrots which, yielding to curiosity, had remained on the outermost branches. We saw dark-red honey-birds, flashing like lightning among the branches, but each time I failed to get my gun up in time. Even if I had succeeded in bringing one down, I doubt if it could have been found. They kept too much towards the centre of the trees, and the body would have probably fallen in an inaccessible place, or have remained hanging in the net of creepers. The honey-bird, a small and agile bird, lives chiefly on honey. As we progressed the stream became narrower, the silence deeper. At last even the cries of the birds ceased. The wild tangle of branches, leaves, and creepers hung stiff and motionless like decorations at a theatre. It has an uncanny effect on one who sees it for the first time; one 48 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS cannot shake off the feeling that death or some other form of evil lurks behind this strange, un- natural calm, as though the eyes of a gigantic serpent were staring with motionless pupils into one's own. The natives never altogether conquer their fear, and never venture into the forest alone. They believe that the souls of evil people dwell in the deep mud under the mangrove trees, and that it is their sighs and breathing which swallow up all other sounds. Both Tongu and Toko knew these waters well. There, where the stream suddenly swings to the right, they paddled over to the left bank, just in the curve. An enormous mangrove tree had fallen here, full of years. It had broken away from its aerial roots, which stuck up out of the black mud like the ribs of a skeleton. The creepers hung limply down from the adjacent trees, swaying in the air like the gigantic, broken threads of a spider's web; others still held, but were stretched to the breaking-point, as if pulled by human beings binding a giant, who in his fall had torn a gash of light reaching to the blue sky a gash which the neighbouring trees had not yet succeeded in mend- ing. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 49 While Tongu held the canoe, Toko and I clam- bered up on the trunk, which was so soft and rotten in several places it gave way in under our feet. I expected the whole thing to collapse and drop us into the black mud, the smell of which rose, putrid and noisome, to our nostrils. When we reached the thin end of the trunk, which lay at right angles to the river, Tongu paddled off by himself. Toko hastened to calm me, assuring me that we should find him again all right. The fallen trunk had helped us over the worst of the morass, but we were compelled to jump from branch to branch the last piece of the way, until we could land on ground which was less swampy, and into which our feet barely sank. The conditions presently became more favour- able; we were at the edge of a clearing. We made for it, and stood suddenly among ferns which grew breast-high; beyond, we came to some tall alang-alang grass, with clear blue sky overhead. There, on the farther side of the clearing, were the bread-fruit trees which Toko had mentioned, their shining dark-green crowns stretching out their boughs to one another, heavy with large, broad leaves, each the size of a man's chest. Two 50 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS birds about the size of owls suddenly flut- tered up over the tree-tops. I raised my gun, but Toko seized my arm. "They are vampire bats!" he whispered. "Wait till they settle. It is their sleeping time now; the main body of them are already at rest among the trees." They circled a few times as if seeking a suit- able tree, then by suddenly drawing in their wing- membrane against their bodies, fell vertically downwards. As they reached the tree-tops they spread their wings again until they found a place of rest. With a faint flap they struck the leaves. A subdued whistling and snarling noise arose from the flock which had been asleep and was now rudely disturbed. The scraping of leaves against one another showed us how the branches sank under the additional burden. We remained still for some minutes until all was quiet. Then we crept cautiously towards them. In the tree-tops, in the cool, dark shade of the leaves, they hung high up along the branches, in innumerable rows. They hung like hams in a provision merchant's loft, head downwards, wrapped in their wing-mebranes, silent and mo- tionless. Not the faintest sound was to be heard. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 51 Any one not knowing what they were, could not possibly have suspected them to be alive; the nests of the potter-bird perhaps, or some other similar animal, but living and breathing creatures, never. I took careful aim and fired, but the bat re- mained hanging apparently undisturbed. Not even wounded, thought I. I fired again same result ! It was incredible; I had never in my life shot so badly. I prepared to shoot again, but in the same moment the flock took alarm. Heads with pointed ears reappeared from under the wing-membrane. Wings quivered and were ex- tended. In a trice they had risen above the branches, shrieking like young monkeys; burst through the leaves ; vanished. One only remained hanging. But all at once, without the least warn- ing, it loosened its hold, and without opening its wings, fell silently to the ground, as if it had been suspended by a string which had sud- denly broken. Toko, who had reserved his arrows until find- ing some less elevated game, screamed with laugh- ter at my astonishment. He, of course, knew that they frequently remain hanging by their big toes fully five minutes after death. It is only when the sinew is quite relaxed that the creature falls of its own weight. 52 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS That was the explanation of my bad marks- manship. We now walked from tree to tree, seeking those which had not been frightened by the shooting. At last, some distance farther on, we found another flock. I shot a couple, more out of curiosity than any desire for sport, for it was mere target shooting. I had also to hus- band my ammunition; the time would soon come when I must be content with a bow and arrow. The natives don't kill vampire bats as a rule. The men may not eat them and they hang too high in the trees for a vertical bow-shot. Only those which settle in the cultivated bread-fruit trees are mercilessly killed, because they eat the fruit. The cunning bats know this quite well, and only go there when it is quite dark. The last one I shot flapped its downy wings feebly in its fall, but when I picked it up, its eyes were quite dull. Under the wings, however, which had again closed together, I noticed a move- ment, and upon pulling them back I found a young bat with its arms and legs outstretched clasping its mother round the body. The young one's thin wing-film clung so tightly to its mother that we could not separate the two. It was only just born, and thin as a skeleton, with a weird old man's head. It took not the slightest notice VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 53 of me; its whole being was concentrated on its snout, which continued to pull and suck at the dead mother's udder, which was of a lighter colour than the body. The young one itself was not hit at all. We proceeded farther, through grass and breast-high ferns, until we again reached a clear- ing. "Our Fathers' Stone!" shouted Toko, pointing ahead. A moment later we were there. In reality it was a ruin, consisting of a rec- tangular courtyard surrounded by four broken- down walls formed of enormous, oblong blocks of basalt. In one wall was an opening resem- bling a doorway. A small stone basin, overgrown with ferns, stood at one side brimming over with fresh clear water, which apparently filtered up from some subterranean spring. Toko knew very little about the origin of the walls. He could only tell me that they had been built to defend "Our Fathers," a numerous and powerful tribe which was constantly at war with the other islands, and possessed canoes far larger and swifter than our present ones, in which it made expeditions and raids to distant islands, the names of which he did not know. CHAPTER FOUR IT was already well past midday. We set about finding Tongu. Toko took his bearings by the sun, but kept halting ana sniffing about him like a setter. "What are you sniffing 1 ?" I asked him. "The mangrove swamp," he answered. Wh/m he had once settled on the course he went steadily forward. Soon we could see the mangrove copse. Toko again took his bearings carefully before proceeding. We were forced once more to climb and wrestle with the hanging creepers. The grass disappeared, and the ground became swampy again. We balanced ourselves on rotting trunks, which frequently collapsed under our feet, leaving us hanging to some branch or other, which we dared not relinquish before find- ing a new foothold. Once as I hung there helpless, my arms out- stretched, my cartridge belt tightly strapped round my waist to prevent it getting lost, 1 thought to myself how lucky it was there were no gorillas 54 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 55 or other large beasts of prey on the islands not to mention poisonous snakes. The sole speci- men of the latter is the little siguaganti, and that is quite harmless. At last we reached the stream. We were so near its outlet that we could see the lagoon, which was overhung with vegetation just like the one we had left a few hours before. The stream ap- parently cuts off a corner from the island. "This is not the same stream as before," Toko explained, "it is its daughter." l Toko gave the usual signal-whistle, which re- sembles the jodelling throat-notes in a nightin- gale's song, but is much longer. There was a pause. Then came Tongu's an- swer from the direction of the lagoon, and soon after the canoe came gliding towards us from the mouth of the river. After a bite of food we paddled out along the lagoon, which was bounded on either side by long- stretches of jungle. When we at last arrived at the lagoon it was as smooth and shining as a mirror. The reef was no longer bathed in breakers, only the ex- treme top of it being visible. I took the oar from Tongu, who had paddled without intermis- i Tributary. 56 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS sion since early morning, and we progressed for a long space in silence. Tongu fell asleep, his head between his doubled-up knees, while Toko sat staring straight before him with half -closed, unseeing eyes. Once, when I asked what he was thinking of, he answered, "Air !" Observing my surprise, he added, "Myself and the air!" Then, evidently considering the subject disposed of, he returned to his meditations. The lagoon widened; the coast, covered with strange bushes, receded. Farther inland we could see scattered groups of cocoa-nut palms, a sure sign of a village. And it was not long before we saw palm trees reaching to the coast; then came a small grove of trees in orderly rows ; finally the first yellow hut-roof gleamed through the green trunks. Simultaneously the strand broadened. A canoe lying upon the sands roused Toko from his reverie. It was about twice the size of ours, and had a mast on which hung a square mat of fibre for a sail. Fastened to the gunwale were bamboo rods reaching out to the floating keel. "A royal canoe !" he shouted, dropping his oar. Our King had a similar one, but this canoe was bigger and of better quality, with its bow VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 57 carved and its sail dyed yellow with turmeric, which the women use to paint themselves with before dancing. Their canoe-house was also superior to ours, although ours was the pride of the village. Toko poked Tongu into wakefulness lest he should miss the sight. The latter rubbed his eyes hard, and stared for a long time at the strange village. "It is Wattiwua !" said he finally. "It is more wealthy than ours." Toko murmured something about coming again with many canoes and capturing it, but Tongu, who was sufficiently clever and exper- ienced to bow to superior force, said : "They are great, and we are small. Let us pay them a visit; rich people are good hosts !" I acquiesced at once. The village, which now came into view round the end of the point, lay in a semicircular bay. The strongly roofed huts standing on pointed beams looked very inviting. The sun beat down upon us. My mouth watered like that of a thirsty man on finding a bottle when I saw the delicious shade there under the palm trees. The people had already seen us. Some men and women, preceded by a group of children, 58 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS came down to the flat beach, the men with the left hand behind their backs clasping the right arm. This, I think, they practise to maintain an upright and dignified bearing. After looking at us for a while they began talk- ing excitedly together, shading their eyes and star- ing at us. "It is you!" said Tongu; "they have heard of 'the stranger' on the island." Tongu took my oar and raised it above his head ; they immediately began to call and beckon to us. "We are welcome!" said he, smiling. Toko and he paddled towards the shore with all their might, Toko's youthful face quivering with ex- pectation, his thick nostrils working incessantly. When the canoe was near land and we were preparing to step out and wade, two of the men suddenly ran towards us shouting something I could not understand, stretching out their arms warningly towards us. "They wish to carry the stranger to land!" said Tongu, with a gratified smile at the honour shown to us. I considered myself in no respect superior to the natives, and preferred always to be treated as VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 59 their equal. I therefore refused the honour offered me and pointed to Tongu. "Take him!" I said. "He is both older and more bearded than I." The natives were astounded at my speaking their tongue, and looked doubtfully at one an- other and at Tongu. Tongu frowned disapprov- ingly, and said that I must not slight their hospi- tality. After that I yielded. The bigger native quickly took me on his back, while the other, after hesitating a moment, measuring Tongu's dignity with his own, resolutely seized the bearded one and carried him, too, pick-a-back to land. We were borne at a slow trot over the hard ground, while Toko, assisted by some of the otfier natives, lifted the canoe out of the water. When we were comfortably seated under the palms, the men and women surrounded us and made a thorough examination of my fair hair, my light eyes, my light skin, my clothes, my buttons; above all, my gun. As soon as the ceremonial betel-nut chewing was finished, and cocoa-nut milk and bananas were placed before us, they overwhelmed me with all possible manner of ques- tions. Because I could not answer them all, some 60 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS of them waxed impatient and pulled at my clothes to attract attention. I had to tell them where I came from, how I came to the island, where I had learnt their language, and so on. I could see from their eyes that nearly all my answers were unintelligible to them; however, they made the most of the situa- tion, sucking in with all their five naked senses as much as possible of the unique occurrence. Tongu assisted me in his solemn and bearded manner, elucidating my speech, and adding what he thought I had forgotten, or had not bragged about sufficiently. He could not have done it better if he had been a showman in the market- place displaying his dancing bear. In the meanwhile a fire was made for prepar- ing the evening meal, * and the women ran about fetching the food. Then we heard merry talking and singing up behind the huts. It was the young men and women of the village returning from their work in the fields. They walked in twos, bearing poles between them from which hung bunches of bananas. Others balanced upon their heads bas- kets full of yams and taro roots. 1 Bread-fruit and taro roots baked between red-hot stones and eaten together with minced bananas and chopped-up cocoa-nuts. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 61 The moment the children heard them, they rushed away to communicate the great news of our arrival. The young men and girls stared at us for a few seconds with their mouths wide open. Then they came towards us, two by two, as fast as they could with their burdens. Outside a long building, probably the Com- mon House, with a high gable painted all over with geometrical figures, was an open space like a market-place. Having arrived there, they threw down their burdens and ran the rest of the way towards us. "I love you!" * I shouted to them. They were so amazed that they forgot to re- turn my greeting, until at last one of the women smiled, and then another. Finally they all be- gan shouting at the top of their voices, "I love you!" They came right up to me, crowding round the fire, each one seeking to secure a place as near as possible to me. A couple of the bearded elders grumbled at the disturbance. One of them even seized a blazing stick from the fire and threatened a cheeky boy with it. After a while they all quieted down. No one on earth can stare with his whole body and soul as do these young natives. Their 1 The usual greeting. 62 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS jaw drops, and they hardly breathe as they suck in the impression through eyes, ears, mouth, and nose. At least that is what it looks like. I am perfectly certain that they never forget in their whole lives the impressions thus acquired. There was one, a girl, especially noticeable: small, with the softest rounded shoulders and the clearest, silkiest, light brown skin I have ever beheld. Her forehead curved gently, half hidden by her shining, curly hair, which formed a dark cloud round her ears. Her head was covered with flowers picked in the fields. Round her neck hung a wreath of small yellow blossoms, which she kept touching with her hand to make certain they were still there. Lost in contempla- tion, she stood in silence, with one hand curved under her firm, half-developed breast. She was barely fourteen years old, on the verge of woman- hood. Her pointed, regular teeth, which she ex- posed generously every time I looked towards her, had only just been coloured. These young brown girls, just admitted to the Common House, defy competition in the art of staring. Their glance is more daring than that of any European woman, but nevertheless strangely chaste, clean, innocent. It conceals nothing, betraying each inquiry, each desire, each VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 63 impulse which enters their minds. There is no flippancy, no giggling, no secret sensuality. Proud of their own natural tendencies, they take and give without reservation, without shame. All that they do, they do thoroughly. It is because of these mild and noble women that for many years I desired nothing better than to live the rest of my life upon this island. But now, alas, it cannot be. It is because of these women that I cannot now in my loneliness saunter along the Boulevard in the evening and see the civilized demi- mondaine's shameless smile without being utterly disgusted. Female beasts would be a flattering name for the latter. They are beings in whom the human has first of all debased the animal, with the result that the degraded animal has turned in despair and killed the human. They have befouled nature's holy source "By their works ye shall know them!" I could not resist looking at this lovely child, and I saw how all her senses felt my admiration for her. Her mouth parted in a quiet smile, an expression crept into her eyes which I have frequently observed in the native woman. I re- gard it as nature's primitive expression of woman's desire to give. At once shining and dull, almost 64 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS expressionless, like a ripe black grape on the point of bursting. By the time we had eaten our fill, the sun had set with the usual tropical suddenness. I could distinguish nothing of the girl except the glint of the camp fire in her eyes. Soon after she rose from her place; a moment later she was at my side. I felt her warm shoulder, firm and bare against my arm, while the intoxicating smell of her spiced hair filled my nostrils. The natives are ignorant of kissing. They would be very surprised, perhaps disgusted, if they saw two people put their masticating organs together. When a man desires a woman he places his palm under her breast, one or both; if she is acquiescent, she places one or both hands on the back of his neck. I was well aware that it is not good form in the islands to make love to girls other than "joyless widows," when a guest in a strange village. I knew also that it is not proper for a girl to give her love to a man from a strange village. Nevertheless, I could not resist, now that she had seated herself so close to me. But it was too late. We were already dis- covered. In fact, we were the centre of attention. The young men and women were going to their VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 65 common slumber in the long house, and they had already missed her. They were calling out some- thing from up there, not once but several times. I understood from her start that it was her name they shouted. Then a young fellow, possibly her brother, came back and leaned forward over the fire staring at us, muttering and making signs to her. When that was of no avail, one of the elder men pushed her from behind. Although he spoke in an under- tone, I overheard him say that she ought to be ashamed of herself for sitting with a stranger, and above all a stranger who had a loincloth over his whole body. I neither wished nor dared to break the guest- law. With a deep sigh I followed her with my eyes, as she went away without a word, without even a backward glance away to sleep among young men of her own race. Then I lay down under the palms between Tongu and Toko, and slept soundly beneath the starry sky, which says nothing and understands all. CHAPTER FIVE ONE morning I accompanied the young people to their work in the fields. Winawa was among them. Her glance was like a flash of light pulsating, vibrant. Her hair was fairer than usual, and rippled with small, close curls, which glinted in the sun. Her shoulders were rather too broad, but her arms were smooth and round and dimpled at the elbows. As she breathed, chains of shells quivered and shook over the hollow between her soft round breasts. Our party consisted of Toko; undersized Kadu with his pointed dog- teeth; and slim, silent Fagoda, with his fixed, melancholy glance. Among the women were Awa, with small, firm breasts high above her plump stomach; stately Muwa, with long, black, frizzy hair, as coarse as her mind, standing out behind her ears like an ostrich feather; short, compact Sakalawa with strong hips, and prettily turned light mahogany legs. She was outspoken and cheerful, and 66 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 67 laughed at the slightest joke. Then there was Milawa, with her low forehead and thick, sullen lips which she was perpetually smacking. She was a great favourite, chubby and affectionate, with plump, pretty shoulders. Finally, the broad-nosed Nanuki, with eyes that always fol- lowed you about. She was a trifle hump-backed, and was reserved and passionate. We knelt down in two rows and removed the fresh shoots from the taro plants so that the two innermost leaves, which we did not touch, might grow better. In addition, we loosened the earth round the bulb, and pulled up the weeds. The sun beat down on my back, burning me through my white coat. The girls sang as they worked, each with her own words, mostly incom- prehensible nonsense, probably made up on the spur of the moment. Toko was leader of our row. Kadu was just in front of me. The sweat ran in shining drops down his back, disappearing under his red loin- cloth. In the women's row Muwa was number one. I managed to be opposite Winawa, whose smooth arms shone in the sun, dazzling my eyes. The women always plant flowers, wherever they can. They planted some here between the 68 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS taro bushes, when they put in the bulbs two months previously. The chief ones are the cro- ton with its variegated leaves, which the natives love, and the shining yellow koleus, which they plait into wreaths for necklaces. Butterflies fluttered up from every bush we touched; we ceaselessly brushed away the insects, which buzzed in swarms round our ears. Scented waves (reminiscent of vanilla or heliotrope) floated through the motionless, sun-stifled air. I think they emanated from a kind of gardenia which bloomed on our left. In spite of the heat it was all very enjoyable. The girls sang as they moved from bush to bush. They kept stretching their necks in search of flowers, and when they saw one they wanted for each had her favourite they threw them- selves flat upon the ground, plucked it, rubbed it over their nose and lips, as if about to eat it, and then put it in their hair. The sun sparkled and gleamed on their per- spiring backs, which resemble nothing so much as light brown horse-meat, steaming in the warm air. Kadu chewed betel-nut and at intervals spat sideways in long, dark red stripes which wriggled like worms on the loose white earth. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 69 At last the heat was too much for my back; I threw off my coat and sat there naked to the waist like the others. "Look at the Red Man!" cried Sakalawa. The girls all called me this because of my hair, which has a reddish tinge, and also because of my red cheeks. The men called me the White Man, as they do all Europeans. The singing stopped abruptly ; the girls swung round on their knees to stare at me with in- quisitive, amazed eyes. "Did you think only my face was red*?" I asked, turning towards them. "Ai! Ai!" 1 One after the other they leaped to their feet and came nearer to examine me, front and back. My skin was, of course, discoloured with heat and sweat. Kadu turned towards me with a wide- mouthed smile, exposing his pointed teeth. "Pig's back!" he ejaculated, smacking his lips as though invited to a feast. Toko, offended at the insult to me, declared boldly that a red skin was a proof of wealth, and that the possessor of it deserved many wives. Inquisitive Awa, who stood so close to me that her fat calves rubbed my elbow, could restrain 1 Native exclamation of astonishment or admiration. 7 o VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS herself no longer. She poked my back cautiously with her stubby fingers. "Ai! Ai!" Then she stroked me gingerly with her open palm; only to step back nervously. She was not sure whether my back was nice or nasty. Milawa, on the contrary, was quite sure that it was nice, and, smacking her sullen lips, rubbed her plump shoulder up and down between my shoulder blades, her hands clasped behind her back. Nanuki's dark eyes were also fixed upon me as she stood there motionless on her slim ankles, as if rooted to the spot. Winawa alone, the very one I wanted to come to me, remained where she was. She cast quick side-glances at intervals, her lips parted, her breast rising and falling rapidly. "Winawa, come too!" I cried, stretching out my arms towards her. She pulled a handful of leaves from a taro bush and threw them at me, at the same time throwing back her head like a skittish foal. It was a good sign. Everything she did delighted me ; she was grace- ful to the finger-tips; the way she interlaced her fingers over her knee and leaned slightly forward VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 71 when she listened. But had I attempted to kiss her, she would have imagined that I was about to eat her. "Have your women also red backs'?" she asked. "They are shining white!" "Have they also a shirt over their whole body, as you have a loincloth*?" Awa demanded. "They are covered all over with a mat which is fastened tightly round their neck and waist." "Don't they show their breasts?" exclaimed Milawa, amazed. "No, not as a rule." "Then how do you know when a girl is pretty?" "You don't know, and are very often cheated." Milawa puffed contemptuously, ashamed that members of her sex dared clothe themselves so indecently. "How can they nurse their babies'?" asked Sakalawa, who had been sitting for some time considering the matter. "They prefer not to use their breasts for that purpose, but instead give their children milk from a pumpkin." 1 "Where do they obtain the milk?" "From big, red, four-legged animals." 1 The natives have no other word for flask. 72 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS They all sat with their palms extended, gaping with astonishment. Suddenly, as if at the word of command, they burst out laughing. Even the stately Muwa slapped her hands on her fat thighs. They didn't believe a word of it! "Are your legs red too*?" asks Sakalawa, after another interval of thought. "Yes, certainly." "Show us them!" said Milawa, leaning for- ward, her hands resting on her plump knees. I turned my trousers up above my knees as far as I could. "Ai! Ai!" Milawa instinctively shrank back, her eyes glued to the extraordinary sight. Winawa's shining orbs almost started from their sockets. After an interval of dumbfounded silence, Fagoda of the melancholy glance spoke : "Come, let us dream!" It is a magic formula; all jumped up and shook the earth from them, while Toko ran towards some plants growing isolated from the rest. They were kawa-kawa plants. He cleaned the root, broke it up into small pieces, and gave one to each woman. "Let me !" they all shouted at the top of their VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 73 voices, crowding round me as I lay on my coat in the shade. They pushed and shoved one an- other in their efforts to approach nearer, open- ing their mouths wide and pushing back their lips with their fingers, to show that their teeth were clean and sound, and that their palates were without cold or any inflammation. Winawa alone held back, although I could see from her bulging eyes that her whole heart was with me. I pointed my finger at her. "You shall chew for me!" I said. She immediately squatted down, and without a word began to masticate. Then Kuda, Toko, and Fagoda each chose a woman to chew for him. Those left over threw themselves sulkily upon their backs, and chewed for themselves. The woman chosen by a man to chew for him is the one he prefers to dream of during his trance; and the fact of her chewing produces the desired result. If he fails to dream of her, it is a proof that she has fixed her thoughts upon another man during the chewing, which is a direct insult, for she could have declined his in- vitation. Winawa finished. With bashful grace she gave me a cocoa-nut shell, into which she had 74 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS spat out the kawa juice, poured into it milk from a freshly opened nut, and with downcast eyes seated herself on the ground near me. I had never drunk kawa before; it tasted like soapy water, flavoured with sugar. But I never- theless swallowed it hurriedly, for the sake of her of whom I desired to dream. We all lay flat on our back, with knees drawn up and hands under our heads. One by one I saw the others fall over on their sides, their eyes shut, and a peculiar, satisfied smile on their faces. Suddenly Winawa, whom I could see from where I lay, seemed to rise up and down and sway from side to side. She became slimmer and fairer, and after a while pulled herself into a crouching at- titude, sitting there smiling and seductive. When I awoke, the shadow from the tree touched the taro bushes; about two hours had passed. The others were already at work in the fields. They squatted on their haunches grinning at me when I staggered towards them. But Winawa went on working and did not meet my eyes. When we had returned to the village, eaten our supper, and watched the camp fire's flames die down in the black ashes, the young people rose to g VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 75 their feet preparatory to retiring to rest in the Common House. Toko and Kadu and Fagoda each took posses- sion of his woman. Winawa sat apart by herself, as if waiting; while the others cast inquisitive and suggestive glances from her to me. I sat down by her side. A shiver ran through her, but she neither moved away nor returned my caress. Then came one whom they call "the great hunter," and stood in front of her, glaring at her. When I rose to follow her to the Common House, he obstructed my passage, at the same time seizing Winawa by the arm and pushing her behind him. Determined not to be thus thwarted, I thrust him aside and sprang towards the door; but instantly the young men crowded round me, murmuring threateningly. Toko hastily approached, touched my arm, and said gravely : "No stranger may sleep in the Common House!" Infuriated, I hurried home to Tongu, cursing this tribal instinct which had twice robbed me of the woman whom I had chosen, and who had herself chosen me. CHAPTER SIX ONE dark night Tongu, Toko, and I paddled out with the canoe to catch flying-fish. It was the King's favour- ite dish, and with it I had decided to pay my royal tax. Besides, I had an ulterior motive. While Tongu held the oars, Toko and I waved our torches made of cocoa-nut fibre tied to long bamboo poles high in the air, making the rays of light gleam and dance over the dark waters. The flying-fish, their wet wing-fins glittering like silver, left the water half hypnotized by the light, and rushed straight towards the smoking red flame. We transfixed them in their flight, killing them quickly one by one, until we were exhausted with slaughter. There were many more than we could deal with, although we were all experts and never failed to kill with each thrust. Next morning I again ransacked my sea-chest, and chose an old umbrella and a battered straw hat for His Majesty. 76 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 77 For a long time I was puzzled to know what to give the critical Wahuja, who is the King's adviser, and must therefore be conciliated. At last I found a pair of spectacles which had be- longed to my uncle in Java. The fact of Wahuj a being shortsighted would make the gift specially acceptable. Long White-Ears would, so to speak, recover the eyes of youth. We presented ourselves all three before the King late in the afternoon, Toko carrying the tribute in Tongu's largest basket, and I, the gifts. Wahuj a, whether by instinct or from information received concerning our last night's fishing ex- pedition, saw us first, and came sneaking down from the verandah. He drew us aside under the shade of a pisang palm, where we could not be observed from the house. I greeted him native fashion, telling him of my errand. He glanced thoughtfully at the basket, and stood chewing his toothless gums without speaking. Then I produced the spectacles. Might I be allowed to give him back the eyes of his youth 1 ? I put them on myself to show how to use them. He took them cautiously and sniffed them, jump- ing back shuddering when his nose happened to touch the glass. 78 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS "It is petrified water!" said I in explanation. He trembled with emotion all the time he was putting them over his nose and behind his ears. Toko and Tongu were also frightened, and with- drew to a safe distance. He peered up in the air with mouth wide open, but could see nothing at all. "Fog!" he ejaculated, wrinkling his nose disapprovingly. I then held my hand close before his eyes. He gave a violent start when he saw it clearly, and suddenly his loose old mouth grinned, until the corners nearly reached his hairy white ears. He looked towards a pisang leaf which hung down just in front of him: the same marvellous result! He stared at Tongu's beard: extra- ordinary ! "Witchcraft!" he muttered solemnly, remov- ing the spectacles carefully, and examining them minutely from every possible angle, fingering the lenses with shaking fingers. He then turned his right ear towards me, a habit of his when giving audience. "What do you desire of me, White Man 4 ?" he whined, once more assuming the mask of diplomacy. "O most wise and mighty Wahuja, thou who hast the King's ear!" I began, according to a formula supplied by Tongu. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 79 "Is it a woman you want*?" he broke in im- patiently. I forgot my formula and said frankly, that I was a young man even as the other bachelors. How was it possible for me to buy a wife of Mahura's famous race when I was not allowed to choose in the same way as the others'? In short: I wanted permission to sleep in the Common House. And now that I was paying a handsome tribute, the great Wahuja could not refuse to lighten the King's eyes and enlarge his heart towards me; so that I, who desired nothing better than to live and die on this happy island, with the King's foot on my neck, might be ac- corded the same right as the meanest man among the King's subjects. Wahuja again fell to chewing his gums. He scratched both his hairy ears. He concen- trated all his intelligence upon this difficult problem. Tongu ventured the humble sugges- tion that his chickens were Wahuja's, and his cocoa-nuts, whilst his house was built expressly that Wahuja should tear it down, if it pleased him to do so. Wahuja waved him angrily away, and, turn- ing to me, touched my clothes with his stiff fingers. "White Man," he said reproachfully, "why do 8o VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS you conceal all your skin with a loincloth over your whole body*?" "It is the custom of white men." "You wish to be one of us, yet you cover yourself up like a tortoise or a vampire bat. Do you bear the tortoise's burden 1 ? Do you fetch your food in the trees like a vampire bat 1 ?" I stood silent, covered with confusion. "No decent Mahura man conceals his skin!" "Then will I discard my covering, O most wise Wahuja!" The old diplomat had not expected such an accommodating answer; it took him by surprise. But after a moment's thought he again took up the cudgels. "Your back is reported to be red and cold like that of a pig!" he whined. I hinted modestly that I was born thus. Should not a decent man be proud of his skin? Wahuja ignored my subtle use of his own logic. "No decent Mahura man," he objected, "has a red skin. Nothing good can come from a red skin!" Then seeing that I was losing patience, he remembered the spectacles and added in a cau- tious whisper : "But that which has been denied I VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 81 you by your father and mother, 1 you can of course take from the earth !" This was utterly beyond me, but Tongu under- stood immediately. "I will paint you with the brown earth," 2 he said joyfully; "you will be as handsome as a king." Wahuja turned his back; he had spoken, and considered the matter closed. It was an unsatis- factory result. I'd be hanged if I would paint my skin, to be a laughing stock for the whole of this brown village. As soon as the King was shown our gifts he became wild with joy. He at once put the straw hat on his head and opened the umbrella in the way I taught him, keeping it up during the whole audience. The court ap- plauded vociferously, the women and children in the doorway mumbling wide-eyed their eternal, "Ai! Ai!" The King announced that there would be a feast that evening we already knew about it, and had chosen the day on purpose to celebrate the building of the new fence round his cocoa-nut grove. He invited all three of us to be present. We were given betel and cocoa-nuts. 1 i.e. at birth. 2 A kind of red ochre paint. 82 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS Just as we were finishing, we saw Wahuja come creeping forward, spectacles in hand, to hold a council with the King, who sat arrayed in straw hat and umbrella listening absent- mindedly. Whilst we lounged about waiting for the feast to begin, we saw the dancing-girls arrive from the village dressed in all their finery, bearing arm- fuls of flowers. I recognized several of the girls from my kawa debauch and nodded to them. Among them was Winawa, who looked longingly at me, hiding the eagerness of her stare under her half-lowered eye- lids. We followed them at a distance, and watched them disappear behind the royal residence, where the Queen squatted, presiding over the toilet preparations, surrounded with cocoa-nut shells containing all manner of dyes and cosmetics, the names of the majority of which I was igno- rant. The girls donned their necklaces and bracelets, stuck flowers in their hair and ears, showed their costumes off to one another, patting here and pull- ing there, cackling and quarreling, shrieking and striking themselves on the thighs with ecstasy. One by one the Queen called them before her. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 83 She painted them on the back, breast, and neck with swift, sure strokes according to their rank, beauty, or personality, each girl following the movements of the brush closely, and smiling or sulking according to the treatment she received. One or two of them complained bitterly, and stamped their feet on the ground, but the Queen took not the slightest notice, merely giving each one a shove in the back when she was finished, and calling the name of the next. I saw one perky little dark-eyed wench rub the wet colouring off her breast, whilst a companion painted the brilliant design she desired on her back. Milawa, whom I supposed so shy and retir- ing, made a fearful to-do. She showed herself to be a vain minx, shrieking at the top of her voice for "sun." She wanted a flaming sun on each breast. At last the Queen lost her temper, stood up and gave her such a kick in the fleshy part of the back that she tripped over and fell down. General hilarity, while Milawa rolled about in the grass, whimpering and kicking her legs in the air with temper. We hid behind the new bamboo fence, the occasion for the feast, and saw everything through 84 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS the stakes. When the Queen had finished and rose to inspect her work, we fled. The invited guests, consisting of the bearded elders and other women and men of the village, arrived and seated themselves in a circle round the tamman, J inside which was the royal orchestra with their aiwa-drums. The girls came forward from behind the house in a delighted procession, two by two, each holding a bouquet in her up- raised right hand. They were greeted with shouts of "Ai! Ai!"; the mothers all craning their necks to watch their daughters, pruning themselves with self-satisfac- tion. Then the girls let themselves go. They seated themselves in two circles, one within the other, and suddenly began turning their bodies from the hips upwards, vigourously from side to side, at the same time waving their bou- quets in the air. As soon as the tom-toms began, they sang slowly and monotonously the following song : "We are little parrots ! Behold this green parrot ! Behold my hair ! Behold my eyes! 1 Dancing-place. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 85 Hear my happy shriek! Behold this green parrot! We are little parrots ! From Mahura from Mahura!" Again and again they sang the same monoto- nous refrain, but with each repetition the speed quickened, the small tireless drums, resembling hour-glasses, beating faster and faster. After a while the girls sprang into a kneeling position, and keeping the most perfect time they hopped right round the circle on their bare knees, the two chains revolving in opposite directions. Suddenly with a shriek they bounded to their feet and began leaping backwards and forwards, kicking out their strong round legs to either side, their arms waving their bouquets, their heads jerk- ing violently to and fro. The movement became more and more frenzied ; at last it seemed one mad whirl of bare brown flesh, of which the separate details were indistinguishable. My brain swam. I fell back dizzy and fainting. The natives, on the contrary, were delighted, intoxicated. They all began to sing; old women rocked on their stiff hips, rheumatic old men nodded their heads vio- lently, keeping time as they croaked the melody. All the audience joined in, sitting on their haunches, jerking their trembling arms and legs 86 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS to the music, their eyes starting out of their heads, their breasts heaving with emotion. Even the King, dressed in his clothes of state, the battered straw hat upon his head, beat time with his newly acquired umbrella, and was thoroughly happy. Tongu and Toko had succumbed long since to the all-prevailing influence. At last, in spite of myself, I too began; my blood beat in my neck, my breath grew short and painful, my legs wobbled and trembled beneath me. Finally I let myself go as completely and utterly as all the rest. . . . Suddenly, without the slightest warning, a shriek filled the air, a wild, horrible cry which burst simultaneously from each girl's throat. It rang clear and true in spite of its abandon, pierc- ing my very soul. Even now it rings in my ears. The shriek died away in a long-drawn-out wail like that of a dog starving in the dark. It was the dance's death-cry. When I re- covered my senses and was able to see once more, the women lay piled together in a heaving heap, panting and exhausted, with convulsive shudders shaking their limbs, succeeded finally by complete collapse. To all appearances they lay lifeless and dead. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 87 Now the unmarried men sprang forward. Each sought the woman who at the time be- longed to him, leaving the few unmated among whom I saw, to my great joy, Winawa- disconso- late to look after themselves. In my excited condition, I was strongly tempted to rush forward and claim her for myself, but, realizing the fatality of such a course, I restrained myself. I joined Tongu and the other bearded ones who were watching the women carried down to the strand; saw each man help his girl remove her soiled skirt and faded flowers ; saw him bathe and rub her tired, steaming limbs, each man's sole thought being to help his loved one to recover. But when I saw Winawa compelled to do every- thing alone, without a helping hand, I swore a mighty oath that I would accept Wahuja's con- ditions, and become as brown and as naked as the most respectable Mahura man on the island. CHAPTER SEVEN I WAS now a full-blown citizen of Mahura Village. I paid the King's tax, took my share in the work of the bachelors, and slept in the Common House. Winawa was no longer compelled to deny me anything. I was now brown as cinnamon, and wore a bright scarlet loincloth, which Tongu took great pains to weave. Tongu kept a strict look-out that I was not cheated of any of the rights belonging to every young Mahura man of good family. A few of the young men disapproved of me as a stranger, and tried to raise laughter at the ex- pense of my skin, which was inclined to run in wet weather, and required periodical renewal. They even tried to boycott me, but the women were on my side and protected me jealously. Toko was, as formerly, my sworn and trusty friend, always at my heels during the day, and sleeping as close as possible to me at night, a habit more flattering than pleasant. In the Common House there are no reserved VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 89 places; each one has his mat, and at night places it in position on the bare, spacious bamboo floor. The Common House is a large, oblong building thatched with palm leaves. The two side walls do not reach right up to the roof, but leave a long, narrow opening about two feet wide, which, however, is sheltered from storm and rain by the projecting thatch. The openings served as ventilators, without which we should certainly have been stifled, crowded together as we were. Even as it was the air was often almost unsupport- able. There was always a great deal of shoving and quarreling at the entrance each night before we went to bed. It was caused by the scramble to get in first and secure the best sleeping-places, namely, those farthest removed from the door, where one was constantly in danger of being trodden on by any one wishing to go outside during the night. I myself preferred to lie nearest the door, close against the wall, but all the others made a rush for the corner places at the farthest end of the building, where it is most sheltered. It is extraordinary how quickly and quietly the woman question is arranged. I have never 90 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS yet observed fighting or noisy quarreling in this connection, men and girls pairing off, by common consent, quietly and unostentatiously. They do not change partners as often as might be expected. As a rule, the matter is settled for the woman from the very first day of her entrance into the Common House, into which she is admitted upon attaining the age of puberty. The young girl is im- mediately surrounded by unattached youths of about her own age, swarming and buzzing round her like bees. Flattered and pleased with the attention shown her, she looks round the gathering and quickly chooses one to be her partner, in what to her is the most serious business in life. The rejected suitors then retire, and the matter is finished. Having chosen her mate, she sleeps on his mat in the Common House until one of two changes occurs. If the connection leads to strong infatuation, so that the man becomes afraid of losing her for example, by the advent of a new and dangerous rival he hastens to buy her from her father; in other words, to marry her, upon which they both remove from the Common House, where every one has an equal right. If, on the other hand, one or other of the parties does not come up to expectations; or if the man cannot or VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 91 will not pay the price which for the sake of her family and the honour of her totem l is demanded for her, then a respectable girl, knowing the re- spect due to her, gives her laggard suitor the cold shoulder and turns elsewhere. This she does by merely deserting her customary place at the evening meal, and seating herself by the side of her new mate, whom she has chosen, possibly for his appearance, possibly on account of his family and fortune. If the new one acquiesces, he remains seated and all is well. Should he, however, object to his new would-be spouse, he rises and goes away to another place. The effect upon the girl of this unchivalrous treatment is either to cause perhaps a lengthening of the face, or else an angry muttering, and tearing of the grass. That is all. She soon finds a new partner somewhere else, unless the rejected suitor makes things nasty for her in some way or other, which, however, is considered very bad form, denoting a treacherous character. Affairs are thus managed among the more sensi- ble and decent young people, who possess a certain 1 The natives divide themselves, according to rules as yet unknown,, into family groups, each of which has its own dis- tinguishing mark (totem), e.g. a certain bird. Members of the same family group may not intermarry. 92 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS amount of proper pride. But it may, of course, also happen that a girl sticks to her first choice, regardless of his inability to buy her; unless he is more sensible than she, and gives her up in order to marry a woman whose price is more in accord with his fortune. If not, it cannot be denied that an illegitimate connection is established which can have unfortunate consequences. Things may be all right for a time ; but one day her father becomes impatient and informs his daughter that he cannot wait any longer for the capital which she represents to materialize. She must make her decision. The poor suitor presents himself in despera- tion to make the best offer he can, only of course to meet with an uncompromising refusal, at the same time having the purchase price flung in his teeth. Every well-bred Mahura girl would then bow to the inevitable and do her duty. She allows her poor suitor to disappear out of her life, taking with him that of which no one can deprive him, and chooses a new mate, this time with her brain instead of with her heart, aided perhaps in her choice by her parents. Sometimes, however, things do not go so VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 93 smoothly. I know one case Toko told me about it in which, to appease her father, the girl dis- missed her fiance and chose another suitor. But the latter was merely a dummy, whom they had persuaded to act the part of lover before the public at the evening meal round the fire. At night he disappeared, and the girl continued sleeping on her old suitor's mat, a fact which could never reach the ears of the father, for all that happens in the Common House is most jealously guarded by its inmates. The new arrangement worked successfully for a while, but when the latest official fiance, who was in all respects a suitable match, made no effort to claim the girl for his wife, the old man again took his daughter to task. Again she posed as the obedient daughter; again she obeyed her father's commands, dis- missing the second suitor she could not waste all her youth in the Common House, where she would soon be one of the eldest and choosing a third, also a good match. But he was only an- other dummy, playing the part for the sake of his friend, the poor suitor, and the girl still slept regularly on her lover's mat. And so it went on, until at last the father was forced to the conclusion that his daughter was 94 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS less attractive than he had thought, for none of her suitors offered to buy her. Since there was nothing wrong with the family totem, he rea- soned, it must be the girl who had some hidden fau|.t. After a painful cross-examination, the only material result of which was a good thrashing for the girl in revenge for his disappointment, the old man made the best of a bad job, and resolutely lowered her price, announcing to all and sundry that he was now selling his daughter, so to speak, at cost price. Again a period of waiting. When the old man saw the girl still remaining on his hands he re- signed himself to a certain loss, and, as a last resort, of his own accord approached the poor suitor. The latter stood willingly and honourably by his original offer; they became man and wife, and, according to Toko, lived happily ever after- wards. This story of true love, which fully deserves to be related in a much more detailed form perhaps I shall do so some time in another con- nection had, however, a sequel. I fully believe what was said, that they were very happy obstinate people, on the whole, are VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 95 happier than others but one thing is certain, they never had a child : for now that it was desir- able, it was found impossible. The reason for this melancholy fact lies in the use of a certain practice, fully permissible for an unmarried native girl, but which among civilized people is con- sidered a serious crime, and punished severely, regardless of the stage of development at which the act is committed. A case of such a nature as the foregoing is, however, a rare exception; as a rule, affairs relating to the matrimonial market run smoothly and respectably. When the door is shut, impenetrable darkness reigns in the Common House, and in spite of the aperture in the walls the air becomes heavy and stifling. Everything is quiet; a medley of little sounds, subdued and intangible, rises from the living carpet of hot-breathing, warm-blooded, sensuous bodies covering the floor. A foot scrapes, a mat rustles, and like an under- tone comes the deep purring guttural whereby the natives express their natural and unrestrained joie de vivre. The whole resembles a gigantic dovecot in the twilight, before the birds have fallen asleep; or a fowl-house at dawn, just before the youngest cock begins to flap his wings and crow. 96 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS Sometimes, but very rarely, is heard an angry expostulation, caused by an accidental kick or the like, but it is immediately hissed into silence. And when any one snores so loudly that he wakes others, he is thrust relentlessly outside the door and left to sleep in the open. He whom they call "the great hunter" exercises self-assumed and undisputed authority over all. He is of the family of Wahuja, the most exalted in the village. Contrary to public opinion, and to my own former belief, the natives, whom we so rashly label "savages," are neither savage nor unbridled in the expression of their passions. Quite the reverse in this case, their impulses, although strong, being quickly exhausted ; as befitting free, healthy creatures from whom no veil hides Nature's naked breast. One day, as we were walking past the outer- most huts in the village, on our way home from work in the fields, Winawa stopped and listened, looking fixedly up in the air. I could hear no sound, but she seized my arm excitedly, and began calling in the direction of a bread-fruit tree situated alongside her father's hut, where she lived as a child. When the others had gone on, leaving us two VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAY 97 behind, she again called out in a supplicating voice: "My bewa, my bewa!" Receiving no reply, she approached nearer to the hut, still grasping my arm, as if wishing to show me something, all the while gazing towards the tree and emitting the deep, native jodelling call. There came a sudden disturbance in the air; down from a high branch dropped a vampire bat with its wings closed. When it had fallen half- way to the ground it opened the wings with a jerk and balanced hovering just above Winawa, who held out her arms towards it, laughing and talking to it with all the tender words she knew, her eyes shining with happiness and emotion. It remained, however, hovering over her, wrig- gling its snout and opening its mouth so that its white teeth shone in her face. At intervals it turned its head and fastened its dark, clever eyes on me. Winawa signalled to me to retire, and scarcely had I obeyed her, when the creature flew down and settled in her hair, its wings flapping affec- tionately about her ears. Her whole face broke into a smile, she clasped her arms round the bat, lifted it carefully down and pressed it passionately to her bosom. 98 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS Then she raised the hand holding the banana straight up in the air and let the creature crawl along her naked arm until it reached the fruit. It seized the banana with a quick movement of its snout and ripped the peel off with its sharp, white teeth, still hugging her arm with its claws and wings. Then it crawled down again, and held its mouth containing the banana towards her, so that she too could take a bite. The two thus ate from either end until their lips met. The girl took the bat in her hands and threw it from her like a ball high in the air, at the same time springing with supple grace to her feet. And while it hung flapping above her, she began to play tag with its wings. It tore itself loose; it snapped playfully at her; but the moment I approached, it flew away and would not return. "My bewa doesn't like you!" she said sorrow- fully, looking angrily at me. At last she came away, but turned round several times and called to it as long as it remained visible. "It is angry with you, because I have neglected it !" she said, almost in tears. She was silent and depressed the whole evening. From that day Winawa was displeased with me; perhaps she divined my feelings with regard VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 99 to the creature which is considered holy by the natives. To me it was nothing but a large-sized bat, and the disgust and nausea which I felt on seeing its snout touch her mouth, as they devoured the same banana together, were well-nigh im- possible for me to conceal. When I told Tongu about it, he said it was quite the usual thing for young girls to tame the young bats so that they would eat out of their hands. Once tamed, the creature would always answer its mistress's call. CHAPTER EIGHT **F 'iHERE has been a feast at the King's House," Toko, who always seemed to JL know everything, announced one day. "What was it for 1 ?" "To celebrate a virgin initiation; the youngest of his daughters has got her skirt. She left the Women's House yesterday after having her body tattoed and her teeth stained. Her name is Ali, and this evening she becomes one of us." Just before sunset we all assembled round the fire in expectant silence. Thinking of this new girl who would soon belong to us, we threw out our chests, and scowled fiercely at one another, each man seeking to spread himself out so as to leave a vacant place by his side. The women were all displeased. They sat with sour expressions, snapping sulkily at their cavaliers. One or two of them looked positively anxious. Suddenly the space between two of the farther- most huts was lighted by a clear, shining ray from VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 101 the setting sun, throwing into glowing silhouette a soft, girlish form with high, firm bosom. I recognized her immediately the charming little thing that stared at me from the doorway at my first royal audience, and was removed by her mother for smiling at me and answering my nod. She came forward slowly, her hands clasped behind her back, her head shyly lowered, walking between Wahuja and an elderly woman, her mother. The loincloth to which she was so un- used irritated and impeded the movements of her legs. Presently when she drew nearer and saw all eyes fixed upon her, her soft, plastic mouth stretched in a wide, forced smile, intended to show off her badge of maidenhood, her splendid brown teeth. "Ai ! Ai !" the men shouted admiringly, while the women rocked with envy. Ali's head was the most beautiful shape imagin- able, a perfect oval ; her hair was cut quite short, leaving innumerable tiny, dark curls covering her temples. Her ears were small and round, and set close to the head; her eyebrows formed a faint, light crescent above her bright young eyes, which shone 102 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS with pleasure and expectation at the thought of the new life about to begin. About her neck she wore two chains of the little white shells, which are also used for money, and in addition a large white circular ornament of what material I could not distinguish on which were painted figures. She was beautiful, judged even by European standards. Remarkably enough, although the native idea of beauty is far removed from the civilized ideal, they nevertheless accorded the girl a full-hearted appreciation. She was so delighted with her triumphant debut that, no longer content with merely showing her teeth, she gurgled with laughter, her soft, innocent eyes throwing shyly curious glances at our faces. "Ai! Ai!" So we expressed our admiration and delight. One handed her necklaces; another squeezed her firm, round arms; Kadu ran his hand down her downy back to feel its smooth texture, and one of the women fingered her skirt, admiring its fine weave and colour. The tight skirt annoyed Ali totally unused to clothing of any kind and she made a quick, im- pulsive gesture to tear it off. Every one screamed with laughter as her mother smacked her fingers and pulled the skirt down again. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 103 The longer I gazed upon the girl the more beautiful I found her; Winawa was old and ugly in comparison. The latter, who had never for- given me since the encounter with the vampire bat, and obviously intended to desert me as soon as she could secure another suitor, nevertheless objected to being deserted first and, instinctively sensing the danger, began to hiss softly under her breath, like a cat preparing to defend itself. Ali's roving eyes fell on me: they grew larger and larger, while her mouth gaped with astonish- ment. She recognized my face, no longer red and ridiculous, but brown like the faces of her own race. And my white loincloth 1 ? Transformed into a brown, respectable Mahura skin, together with the most beautiful scarlet loincloth imagin- able! Her interest in me was observed by all, and caused general dissatisfaction. Kadu placed him- self between us that she might admire him in- stead, but she stepped aside, and finding that failed pushed him away with her hands. At last she could restrain her curiosity no longer; she came right up to me and asked: "Are you the red man who smiled at me at the King's House*?" "Yes !" I replied, feeling proud and happy at the distinction accorded me. 104 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS She again looked me over carefully, then putting out her forefinger and scratching my shoulder cautiously, demanded with a thunder- struck air: "Have you grown a fresh skin*?" "It is brown earth!" shouted the others with one accord, throwing into the explanation as much contempt as they dared, for fear of Toko and the secret power of my gun, which was in Tongu's safe keeping. "Ai! Ai!" cried the girl, retreating with a doubtful smile. I made myself as fascinating as possible, contracting my muscles, and singing a European song which I knew from experience ap- pealed to the natives. In spite of the attempts of the other men to drown my voice with their guttural jodelling, Ali fixed her whole attention upon me, her shining eyes gazing raptly into mine. I was filled with pride at the consciousness of my superiority, and firmly determined to make her mine. If only I had had my gun with me but lacking that I performed a feat at which I am ex- pert, and which not one of the natives could imi- tate : I turned a series of somersaults on the sand before her eyes. For a moment she was terrified, but when she saw me erect and smiling before her, she shouted VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 105 a delighted, "Ai ! Ai !" and would have nothing further to do with the others. The girls had in the meanwhile been baking taro bread * and bread-fruit ; and picking out the small packets of leaves from the glowing stones, gave each one of us a share. But no one would sit down; each man pressed as closely as possible to Ali; for now the critical moment had arrived, the significance of which her mother had taught her. She knew that she must seat herself by the side of the man on whose mat she desired to sleep. In consideration of the fact that she was the King's daughter, although only by a secondary wife, Wahuja and the elderly woman awaited with interest this, the girl's first, unaided choice. My knowledge of women told me that my best course was to keep in the background. And I was quite right. At first she was piqued, half surprised, half hurt, at my being the only one of the crowd not to press round her. But when I looked at her, smiling right into her eyes and nodding, as I had done at the King's House, she immediately understood. She returned my nod 1 The crushed or scraped out taro root is mixed with shredded cocoa-nut, made into loaves, wrapped in leaves, and finally baked between red-hot stones. 106 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS in the same manner as on the former occasion; and I read in her eyes that she remembered, and was conscious of her importance. Just let her mother try putting her aside by the scruff of the neck now! She pushed out of her way all those who stood between us pluming themselves, and the next instant was sitting at my side, leaning trustfully against my shoulder. Wahuja seemed to applaud her decision; the old reprobate counted on securing a drink by tell- ing me that his influence brought it all about ! Now that the affair was settled, the others, realizing nothing more could be done, sat down, uttering deep sighs and grunts of dissatisfaction. Winawa, however, in spite of her recent in- difference, was deeply indignant. She hissed through her half-open mouth; then, suddenly com- ing to a quick decision, planted herself down at Toko's side, putting her hand deliberately upon his neck, wanting it to be clearly understood that she discarded me in favour of a man regarded by everybody as my servant. Toko fidgeted uneasily, not because he did not care for Winawa; quite the reverse, but he did not wish to anger me, and looked questioningly in my direction. When I smiled reassuringly he VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 107 at once accepted the situation; but Winawa, dis- appointed at the effect of her experiment, im- mediately became less affectionate towards him. The night that followed how can I ever de- scribe it, Ali was heavenly, laughable, maddening, grave, tearful, and sensual, but above all, heavenly! I shall content myself with telling how it began. On our way to the Common House, where she was for the first time in her life about to sleep on a man's mat, I made some admiring remarks about the beautiful tattoo de- sign on her stomach a flaming sun encircling her navel, which was painted to resemble a wide- open eye. To this she answered, beaming with happiness at her new, adult magnificence, that that was a mere nothing. "No just look at this!" And completely devoid of shame, as eagerly as a European girl showing off a new dress to a bosom friend, she tore off her loincloth so that I might behold the brilliant zigzag patterns which encircled both her legs. She was extremely proud of the tattooing, and stood for some time stroking it admiringly with her hands. She had evidently expected much stronger praise from me, but I was so taken aback that I could scarcely utter a word. io8 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS So commenced that wonderful night a night which bound utter strangers together, disregard- ing and defying so-called civilization bound us together for the whole of our lives for the whole of her life. CHAPTER NINE WE were very happy, All and I. Each night she fell asleep in my arms; each morning she awoke in the same passionate embrace. Her dainty, melodious voice twittered in my ears the whole day long; for she followed me about like a shadow, watching that no evil should befall me. Many a time she seized me suddenly by the arm and drew me away from a tree under which I wished to rest, exclaiming, "Mumut!" ] Upon my ridiculing her she would point seriously to one or another unmistakable sign. This or that bird the incarnation of some evil spirit, of which she knew many had left a mark upon its branches. Or if certain birds sat in the tree above our heads, she would invariably chase them away with stones or shouts. 1 A person's "mumut" is anything of any description that the person leaves behind, e. g. expectoration, footmarks, etc. etc. It is over such traces that a spell can be cast, for which reason "mumut" has come to mean witchcraft in general. IOQ no VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS One evening as we stood gazing together up into the dark, glittering sky, a shooting star sped gleaming across the heavens. A loud scream burst from her lips, and she flung her arms round me, her body trembling with terror. She told me that a shooting star was an evil spirit come from the sky to fetch its chosen victim for sacrifice. Anything she valued greatly she gave im- mediately to me, and was not satisfied until I had divided it and taken by far the larger share. Her shining, expressive eyes reflected every joy she saw in mine, every cloud that crossed my face. But her soft, full lips tightened with dis- pleasure whenever I spoke to another woman ; and she found out immediately that Winawa was her predecessor on my mat. There was a silent, almost comic enmity between these two, and only their mutual respect for me prevented them from coming to blows. Winawa teased the younger woman by sitting, whenever possible, at my other side before the fire and pressing closely against me. When Ali pulled me away, Winawa made eyes at me, and emitted mysterious lip noises which Ali was sure possessed some erotic significance. Ali kicked her legs in the air with anger; and VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 111 as a rule ended by jumping up and holding her hands over my eyes threatening to take Winawa's mumut, and get the witch-doctor to make her un- fruitful, so that she would never be able to retain a husband, but live a "joyless widow" for the rest of her days. When matters arrived at this stage, Winawa was usually frightened and declared a truce; for a few days she would be very careful to leave no trace of mumut anywhere in the neighbourhood of Ali, for fear the latter should find it and carry out her threat. It was a constantly recurring source of sorrow to Ali that she was prohibited by her rank from taking part in certain of the common tasks; she was permitted to harvest the fruit, but might not dig or sow. Neither might she take part in the great half- yearly tatloi * fishery. When the presence of a shoal was signalled from the sentinels who were placed in the tallest trees near the shore during the time when the fish were expected we all charged down to the sea with baskets, sticks, and anything we could lay hands on. 1 A small, bright fish like a sardine. It is the only fishery in which the women may take part. 112 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS Winawa invariably followed at my heels, right under Ali's nose, who could not join us. We waded up to our knees in the water and formed a circle to prevent the tiny fish from es- caping with the ebbing tide through the opening in the coral reef. They shone and glittered, millions of them, leaping and dancing on the surface of the water. We held out our baskets and hands to frighten them back, slowly closing in the circle so that the shoal might become more closely packed, and thus more easily captured. At the turn of the tide the fish with one accord reversed their direction. The innumerable little bodies glittered in the sun as they leaped high in the air in their efforts to es- cape, only to be captured in the baskets, as we shoved them forward and scooped them up. We became seized with frenzy. The filled baskets were quickly emptied by the boys into the canoes and handed back. Some caught them in their hands; others scooped them up in their arms; others again struck at the water with their sticks, so that the fish were stunned. Several women, lacking baskets, tore off their skirts and used them as nets. I saw one possess- ing no equipment stuff fish into her belt, her hair, even in the spaces between her teeth, so that they VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 113 stuck out wriggling like snakes' tongues from her wide-open mouth. We only desisted when the fish were a shoal no longer, but terrified, isolated atoms which fled in ones and twos between our knees. Then we waded to land, our arms aching, our feet cut and bruised from treading on the hard, rough coral. Winawa came close to my side, with Kadu and Milawa on the other; they were all in excellent humour on account of the successful catch. Winawa found among her fish two small pink muamua, resembling sea-slugs, x and offered me one of them. Kadu and the others began to grin meaningly, and watched eagerly to see whether I would accept Winawa's invitation. I have tasted sea-slugs in Java, where, as in China, they are imported and sold as great delicacies. They are first boiled, then smoked, and finally served roasted; the natives, however, eat their muamua raw. I looked at it for a few moments, then I per- suaded myself to try it. At the same time Winawa swallowed hers, mumbling something to herself. Kadu, Milawa, and the rest, giggling and gesticulating, watched the little drama. 1 Trepang sea-slugs (beche-de-mer) are eaten everywhere in China, and in French farther India, also by Europeans. ii 4 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS As for Winawa, her whole face beamed, and she pressed affectionately against me, calling the others to witness my condescension. "You saw him eat it?" "We saw him eat it!" they replied in unison, obviously enjoying the situation, which to me, however, meant nothing at all. That evening, as we sat round the fire with Ali as usual by my side, Winawa, who was sitting opposite us, said: "Brown Earth" a nickname given me by Kadu "has eaten muamua with me today." "It's a lie !" shouted Ali, wildly excited, seizing my arm with both hands. "You saw it, didn't you?" said Winawa in a drawling, affected voice, turning to Kadu and Milawa, at the same time swaying her body to and fro teasingly. "Yes, we saw it!" the girls replied with one ac- cord. "He took one and ate it, and she took the other and ate it." "And he enjoyed it very much !" added Kadu, fixing his small, piercing eyes on Ali with an ir- ritating smile. "It's a lie! It's a lie!" screamed Ali in my face, pulling my arms to make me speak. I could not understand in the least what all VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 115 the fuss was about. "Certainly I ate it; we all ate them!" I answered, freeing myself gently from her grasp. Ali sprang back; her face contracted, and she flung herself on her back in the sand, where she lay kicking her legs and wailing at the top of her voice. I jumped up and endeavoured to calm her; but it was impossible to learn my offence. She only kept shrieking: "She shall die, and you also! She shall die, and you also!" At last Toko and I were compelled to carry her away behind the Common House, where the others could not hear or see us. I petted her like a child; promised her the sun and the moon and all the necklaces to be found in the world; promised that the witch-doctor should cast the death-spell over Winawa; in short, all that she could possibly desire, until at last her frenzy changed to long, heartbroken sobbing. I had seen Toko look doubtfully and disap- provingly at me during the telling of the story; I therefore used the temporary lull to interrogate him. He told me that muamua, like the real sea-slug, is regarded as a love charm. The woman who persuades a man to eat it with her, provided she at the same time recites an incanta- ii6 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS tion, obtains complete power over his senses, and can prevent him from loving any one but herself. I burst into loud laughter, which I soon found myself powerless to control. Ali raised herself on her hand and gazed at me in amazement. Ac- customed as she was to identify herself with all my aims and emotions, she was at last compelled to laugh also, and I quickly seized the opportunity to persuade her that that kind of witchcraft had no power over me. I was extremely careful not to refute its power over ordinary people that would merely have upset her and made the natives suspicious of me ; but against me, the white man, the island's evil spirits were utterly powerless. Not, however, until I told her that it was my gun which frightened them would she be calmed. That fear she could quite understand. Nevertheless, Ali's peace of mind had received a shock. Even supposing that the evil spirits were powerless, there still remained Winawa's hatred. Ali understood perfectly well Winawa's refusal to give up trying to win me; what really surprised her was the fact that the other un- married women did not all desert their men to run after me. When we were lying on our mat that night, she pressed her warm body close against VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 117 mine and whispered tearfully : "Why don't you buy me? Why don't you buy me?" I lay awake for a long time thinking over her words, while Ali slept peacefully, her healthy, regular breathing warming my neck. Some days later, when I returned from work in the fields, Ali was not to be found. I asked the women where she had gone. "She is in the Women's House," * they said. Already, the very first day, I missed her fright- fully; but the next day was worse still. I found that I could no longer live without her beating heart at my side, her ever-open hand touching mine, her steadfast eyes reflecting the light from my own, her young straight soul which, receiving everything from me, gave in return all she possessed. I stole away from the others at midday whilst they lay dozing in the shade, and crept cautiously in the direction of the Women's House. I had never been there before ; it was forbidden for men to approach on pain of being stoned to death by the women if discovered. But I knew the general direction, having 1 The Women's House is an isolated building situated in the midst of the woods. It is there that the young girls are pre- pared for their "initiation" ; and where each woman retires for a day or so every few weeks when naturally indisposed. ii8 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS several times seen women returning from the place, smiling and rejuvenated, wearing their new skirts. I looked about until I found a place at the edge of the forest where the aerial roots were broken and twigs snapped. I followed the faintly denned path cautiously, standing and listening at intervals; I knew the place could not be far distant, for the King's cocoa-nut grove was just over the hill. Reaching the King's newly erected fence I turned at right angles and went straight ahead, until I heard some hens cackling. There it was ! In a little clearing among the trees stood a big, square house resembling the Common House, with a high, painted gable. It was surrounded by a close bamboo fence about six feet high. I could hear the women laughing and chattering within. I even thought I could distinguish Ali's voice, and creeping nearer I peeped through a hole in the fence. There she was ! She was walking in the sand, playing with the chickens, to which she threw crumbs of taro bread, trying to capture them as they picked them up. I was as delighted as if we had been parted a whole month. When she at last came near the place where I stood, I began clucking like a hen. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 119 She listened for a moment and then came right up to the hole in the fence, with the intention of look- ing through. I spoke her name. She gave a violent start; her eyes shone like fire into mine. Recovering herself quickly she called to the hen. I clucked again louder and louder. She pretended to be surprised, and went up to two old women, whom I had never before set eyes on, and who probably lived there all their lives, occupied in watching the holy place. She told them of the hen which had flown over the fence and escaped. One of the old women gave her a long stick with a hook at the end. She took it and approached the door, which was situated in the fence quite near where I was standing. She put the hook in a ring high up in the air and pulled downwards with all her might. The heavy door, hanging on a large wooden pulley, rose slowly in its tight-fit- ting grooves. Making the pole fast, she slid underneath the door, and next moment she was in my arms, all the while calling the hen, and I cackling in response! Suddenly terror of the consequences over- whelmed her. She pressed her bosom once more against me, unloosed her arms from my shoulders, 120 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS and drove me away. She remained standing there, calling to the imaginary hen until I was in safety beyond the liana trees, and she could see me no more. The dull thump of the heavy door falling into its place echoed in my ears as I once more joined the others, who lay as I had left them, sleeping in the shade of the trees. That night, as I lay sleepless on my lonely mat, I determined to buy Ali. First of all I must build a house. How could one buy a king's daughter without a house to offer her*? I began to throw out hints to Toko that I was not so young as he, and that Tongu, who was very little older than I, had been for a long time a bearded man with his own house and home. Toko looked at me with a scared expression. I went on to say how much easier it would be to have a house of one's own instead of sleeping where every one was sniffing and kicking and scraping with their mats. Toko made no reply; he only frowned and looked dejectedly before him in silence. On the third evening of Ali's absence, as we were walking home from the fields, I complained of pains in the back. I was not strong enough VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 121 to stand the continuous labour with the boiling sun on my back the whole day long. I was in better health at the beginning when I lived alone with Tongu. This was too much for Toko. "If you want to build a house and leave us, 1 ' he said, with trembling voice, "then say it right out, but don't grumble at me, who eat from your hand." l I suddenly realized that Toko thought me un- grateful. Everything I had said he had taken as a personal reproach, as if it were his fault that the sun burnt, and my back hurt, and people scraped their feet and shuffled their mats at night. Finally I admitted to him that I wanted to buy Ali. He shook his head despondently, and hinted that women never brought luck. One was never safe against witchcraft. It were far better to eat one's bread oneself than share it with others. It were better to live at peace with one's friends and choose one's own bedfellow than have the bird of ill-omen sitting on one's roof. When he saw that his good advice fell on deaf ears he gave a deep sigh, and began at last to be interested in the matter itself. And when he 1 The native expression for blind devotion and servitude. 122 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS really understood that a house must be built and that nobody must know why, he became almost more interested than I was myself. He walked to and from his work with a vacant, far-away expression in his eyes. Upon my ask- ing what he thought about, he no longer answered "Air," but "Fireplace" or "Flat bamboos for the walls" or something similar. He was even more affectionate than usual to- wards me at this period ; he thought only of mak- ing life happy for me, though he was convinced he would soon lose me for ever. We found a suitable situation in the Common Wood not far from the sea, and quite close to the cocoa-nut grove. We cleared the ground. Tongu procured us good dry timber at a low cost; he was delighted with my plan, and looked for- ward with joy to my joining the bearded bene- dicts of the community, of which he had long been a valued member. Toko cut down young branches for laths, and hastened to secure the best and largest cocoa-nut leaves for thatching. I marked off a rectangular piece of ground it was to be a large hut, a royal hut for Ali. After I had ransacked my sea-chest, thus pro- VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 123 viding the necessary funds, Toko and Tongu undertook in partnership the difficult task of choosing dry, well-seasoned, cocoa-nut beams, which were required for the chief uprights as well as for lateral and longitudinal foundations for the whole hut. The walls were formed from young trunks split into thick boards, and covered on the innermost side with thin bamboo canes, like those in the King's House. Tongu found these an unneces- sary luxury, but Toko was of the opinion that nothing was too good for me. The fireplace was set on the central cross-beam formed of the usual large square coral blocks, chosen by Toko, and hewn into shape by the three of us. We covered the outer side of these blocks with thick planking, as used only in the best houses. An enormous sleeping-bench filled one end of the room, constructed of first quality planks, care- fully smoothed by Toko with his mussel hatchet. The bench was raised about a foot above the floor, and Tongu wove two beautiful mats for it, from the softest bass, procured from the ribs of the pandang leaf. They were his wedding gift. 124 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS In the opposite corner, just inside the door, was a wooden stand, corresponding to our hat- stand, for tools and weapons. Round the entire room, just underneath the roof, ran two deep shelves for food, kitchen utensils, and other articles in daily use. The house, whitewashed on the outside with burnt coral chalk, with ochre-painted door and beams, and roofed with the finest interwoven cocoa-nut leaves, was finished at last. Tongu, Toko, and I made a final inspection both inside and out. When all was pronounced perfect, and we stood once more before the door, Toko suddenly burst out crying, tearing his curly hair. "Now you are leaving me," he howled, "and I shall never see you again! Who will protect me against mumut and purmea^' l I assured him that we should meet every day, and that he was always welcome at my house. But he only shook his head, and began his eternal wail about the bird of ill-omen on the roof. I went to my sea-chest and found an old watch, which I taught him to wind up. I told him that the evil spirits were as much afraid of the watch as of my gun. i Witchcraft VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 125 This comforted him a little; but he continued depressed and gloomy. All his talk about evil spirits was probably a childish attempt to explain away the sorrow he felt at parting from me, an emotion he had never before experienced, and therefore could not comprehend. CHAPTER TEN ESCORTED by Tongu and Toko, I went to the King's House to ask for All's hand. We took gifts for Long White-Ears: a pair of yellow flannel pants with black stripes, and a pair of white silk braces with blue stitches. They had been my pride, when I bought them long ago in Batavia. As we turned from the highway towards the royal residence, Wahuja, as before, came sneaking towards us. He seemed always to know before- hand what was happening in the village. I could see by his very walk, as he came limp- ing forward on his sore feet, his skinny knees knocking against one another, that he knew our errand, and its importance. He was wearing my uncle's gold spectacles, which he always donned on important occasions, believing evidently that they not only sharpened his eyes, but also his wits. He stopped a short distance away and beckoned us into the shadow of the pisang tree. His small 126 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 127 crafty eyes swept hastily over my person, my escort, and the basket Toko was carrying. His toothless gums worked ceaselessly; he elevated his hairy right ear as if he were giving audience. I told him my mission. But though he had from the beginning warmly applauded Ali's choice besides receiving a drink as a perquisite on calling the day after it was impossible now to wring from him one approving glance. Quite the reverse. The cunning rat scratched his donkey's ears thoughtfully, as though he had a most criminal case to deal with. "Has the Rich Giver considered," he said after a period of gum chewing, "the fact that he is a foreigner, and, in addition, possesses a false skin?" I pointed out that I had only followed his own wise advice, and that my appearance was in consequence identical with that of every respecta- ble Mahura man. "But the King's daughter has real skin," he persisted as if skin, not marriage, were being discussed. "It does not wash off in the rain!" he added viciously, as an afterthought. I remarked that it was unfortunate that Wahuja did not approve of my plan, for other- wise I had brought one or two trifles I had in- tended to offer him as a reward for his incon- 128 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS venience in laying the matter before the King. Toko opened the basket. The braces and trousers were produced. I held them up before his ancient eyes in all their tempting length. In spite of himself he could not conceal his desire for this new finery. His trembling fingers fumbled over the soft wool; his spectacles gleamed on the white silk, as he sniffed the braces from one end to the other. Would not the wise Wahuja try what excellent protection they were for elderly legs needing warmth*? (Wahuja always looked half-frozen.) I drew him aside among the trees and showed him how to put them on. It was a difficult job, but we succeeded at last, Tongu and Toko lift- ing him up bodily while I stuck his stiff legs through. He was tremendously impressed upon looking down and seeing his black-striped limbs. I then fastened the braces on and showed him the wonder- ful mechanism with the round flat buttons he called them mussels for fitting into the holes in the braces; when he saw that they could be lengthened or shortened so that the trousers could pull up right over his sunken stomach; when he noticed how the warmth began to tickle his mouth opened silently almost to his hairy ears, VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 129 exposing his leathery, toothless gums. It was the first and only time I ever saw Wahuja laugh. Tongu and Toko emitted one "Ai" after the other, standing bowed in respectful admiration, striking themselves awestruck blows on the thighs. I then ventured a witticism. "Now that the wise Wahuja himself wears a false skin, he cannot blame the foreigner for his skin not being real*?" Wahuja failed to appreciate my humour, and contented himself with remarking that he would do what he could for the Rich Giver. When we reached the last part of the road to the King's House Wahuja wearing his gold spectacles, braces, and pants the verandah literally seethed with curly black heads, overwhelmed with ad- miration at the unique spectacle. They dis- appeared abruptly at a word of command from within. Wahuja made us wait beneath the verandah until he had shown off his finery to the King, and explained our business. There followed a long delay, probably occupied in settling details of the price, and in arraying His Majesty in re- ception clothes. When at last we entered, Wahuja directed me to lead the way, with Tongu some paces behind, 130 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS while he ordered Toko to sit just outside the door. "This will be an expensive business," I thought, "with all this ceremony." We greeted the King obsequiously, as he sat on his mat in most solemn state his little white parade ax over his shoulder and #//-basket on his arm. The straw hat, too, was on his head, while behind him stood a young girl holding the umbrella over his head in place of the usual fan. He looked dignified and good-humoured, but not nearly so friendly as on the last occasion. "This will be a terrible expense," I thought again; "the old hypocrite has put him up to it." As before, the Queen sat on a separate mat slightly to the rear, but Wahuja was now right in the foreground indeed, almost in front of the King. Obviously it was he who would conduct the negotiations. After the King had offered us betel, and we had chewed and expectorated for the correct time, he said suddenly: "What does the Rich Giver desire of the King?" "Rich Giver" and the use of the third person were very bad signs. Phrasing my words carefully, I said that the poor stranger who ate from the King's hand on this happy island had presumed to fix his eyes VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 131 upon the King's daughter; and that he desired above all things to buy her as his wife, in order thereby to provide His Majesty with numerous descendants to perpetuate his most honourable lineage and be heavy tax-payers to the royal treasury. I had rehearsed my speech on the previous even- ing before Tongu, who had approved of it all except that he advised the substitution of "tax- payers" for "warriors," the latter expression being, in his opinion, obsolete. The King chewed awhile on his last piece of betel, afterwards spitting it out vigorously, mak- ing an excellent long-distance shot, which almost reached the opposite wall where Toko sat. "Why do my people call the Foreigner 'Brown Earth' ?" he said suddenly. I gave Wahuja a look full of reproach for his ingratitude. But before I could answer the old man interrupted. "The Foreigner painted his skin at my sugges- tion to avoid annoyance. And 'Brown Earth' has, by so adapting himself to our customs, de- rived power over this island's evil spirits, so that he and his are safe against witchcraft." An extraordinary thing then happened. The Queen, who hitherto had remained silent and 132 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS motionless, staring at me, suddenly opened her bulging lips and exclaimed : "When the King's daughter bears children to the Foreigner they will not have real skins, but false ones which will wash off in the rain, and the King's blood will be for ever shamed." I had forgotten all about the Queen: now the fat was in the fire with a vengeance ! Tongu came to my assistance. Throwing him- self forward on all fours, he said: "If the Great King's daughter will but visit the witch-doctor when she is with child, and let him practise purmea on her body, her offspring will have real skin." But the Queen countered like lightning: "Wahuja said that the spirits of this island had no power over the Rich Giver or his family." Tongu gaped ; he could not cap that. I cursed my f orgetf ulness ; there was no mistaking what the Queen meant in calling me by my confounded nickname. Wahuja again came to the rescue. Jealous of his power, he ignored the Queen completely, bent down before the King, and said: "The Great King can instruct the Rich Giver to let his own spirits, who obey him and are VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 133 mightier than ours, furnish the offspring of the King's daughter with real skin." I hastened to assure His Majesty that there was nothing the spirits of my race would like better than to take charge of his daughter's off- spring. Then, bowing to the Queen, said: "The Queen has made the Foreigner's eyes big with her beauty. Never was there anything so pretty as the ornament round her neck" (the silk handkerchief I had given her a few days ago, which was then tied with the ends hanging on her bosom), "but how glorious would not Her Majesty appear if she wore a similar ornament in her glossy hair, just like Ska Quivin" here I pointed to the Madonna with the blue cloth round her head. "Such an ornament will the Foreigner present to the Great King's beautiful Queen. In addition, he will give her a new skin for her hands similar to the one worn by the wise Wahuja on his legs; but that skin shall be whiter than the whitest coral sand on the shore." (My old white dancing-gloves should be just about her size.) The Queen raised her lazy eyelids, her eyes bulged, and her mouth opened wide, showing all her brown teeth. Victory was ours. The King 134 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS relaxed ceremony and began to look friendly. He made a fresh betel-plug for me and took one himself; again we chewed and spat for some time without speaking. Then he said dropping my tiresome titles and speaking most familiarly: "Have you had my daughter on your mat*?" I answered in the affirmative, although it was a mere matter of form, he having known it from the beginning. "And you are sure that you and my daughter are suited to one another*?" By which he meant that once the bargain was struck, it would be useless for me to come to him afterwards complaining of hidden faults and wanting my money back. I again acquiesced, at the same time repressing all signs of enthusiasm, for fear of inflating the price. Had I a suitable house for her*? He knew all about it, cunning old rascal ! For the last fortnight the village had talked of noth- ing else but the new house and its magnificence. Tired of beating about the bush, I ventured to ask in level tones what was the price demanded for All. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 135 The King immediately resumed his dignity; while Wahuja slid forward on his mat until he sat between the King and me. "The King's youngest daughter," he croaked, "is valued at a hundred pokon tabu." l Good heavens ! There followed a dead silence, while I collected my thoughts. I could see their eyes fixed on me in great excitement, although their faces remained quite expressionless. Tongu dared not say a word, but I knew that he also found the price extortionate. At last I summoned up courage and spoke : "The King's daughter is very beautiful; she is worth more than five white women. But for a hundred pokon the Foreigner could buy twenty women of his own race. Therefore, O wise Wahuja, he who came to this island as the Rich Giver, but who now, on account of his gifts, has become the Poor Giver, can offer only fifty pokon for the King's youngest daughter." 1 Tabu means money, fortune, property. The unit of value is a small shell in which is bored a hole so that it can be strung on a rotang thread. A string reaching from the middle of the chest to the tips of the fingers holds 160 shells and is called a papar. Two papar are called a pokon and consist, therefore, of 320 units. 136 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS A painful silence followed, broken only by Wahuja's gums rubbing together as he prepared his reply. But the King, losing patience, anticipated him : "I have heard that you possess a gun-stick only half the length of the ordinary one." He referred to my pistol. I was struck dumb with amazement. I had never once used the pistol on the island; it had remained undisturbed in my sea-chest. I don't believe that even Tongu knew of its existence. So they had managed to spy out my buying capacity! I looked hard at Wahuja, but he did not blink; I looked at Tongu he seemed to be equally guiltless. After another awkward pause Wahuja decided to launch an ultimatum. "If the White Man will give the Great King his little fire-stick, the King will sell his daughter for fifty pokon." I beat him down to forty pokon, in considera- tion of the little fire-stick being unique in its rarity. Before the matter was finally settled Wahuja modestly suggested to His Majesty that two pokon be granted him out of the Foreigner's pocket as a kind of commission. This was too VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 137 much for the Queen, who raised her voice again, exclaiming that, as I had no parents, and Tongu lived alone in his house, it was best that Ali should pass her isolation period * in the King's House, where she the Queen; would watch over her personally, for which service she would require a bonus of two pokon, also to be paid by me. Thus at last the bargain was concluded. The King could not conceal his joy; the Queen also bubbled with anticipation; while Wahuja crept about chewing his gums over the good stroke of business he had done. We over-ate ourselves most grossly at dinner, to which both Wahuja and Tongu were invited, as a mark of appreciation for services rendered. We became very merry, shouting and compet- ing with one another in hiccoughing and other primitive noises, while the King threw dignity to the winds and kicked me repeatedly on the shins. When, sick with food and dizzy with new fer- 1 When a young girl is sold, she lives in the house of her parents-in-law until the price is paid and the wedding may take place. She is shut off in a separate room, may see no one, and only eat certain articles of food. When necessary for her to go out of doors, she wears a nun's dress of pandang leaves which covers her from the crown of her head to her feet. The woman taking charge of her is responsible for her condition, and receives gifts at her wedding. 138 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS mented wine, we finally departed, Wahuja ac- companied us with ostentatious friendliness. I asked him how soon the marriage could take place, to which he made the business-like re- joinder that as soon as I had paid the money I could have the bride. We were saying good-bye to the wise man down by the beach, when Tongu remarked he had some- thing on his mind, and hastened to call me back. Wahuja hesitated a moment, fidgeting on his sore feet. Then out it came. Could I raise so big a sum of money? Forty- four pokon was a big, very big tabu. If, how- ever, I should be unable for the time being to pay, he would be only too pleased to assist me. He had several good friends who had tabu in reserve, and, if I cared to borrow the amount, he could arrange the matter at an interest of one pokon for every five as borrowed. That was twenty per cent.! I agreed to borrow half the money, for I immediately realized that it was part of the purchase-price. If I re- fused his help he would certainly discover a fresh moral objection to the marriage. Before letting me escape, he made one more offer. If I wished to raise the remaining half of the money by selling the contents of my sea-chest, VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 139 he knew persons willing to pay high prices if necessary. I replied that I would think it over, and thanked him for his kindness and interest. Then at last we parted, the best of friends, every trace of condescension on Wahuja's part gone. Never had I seen the old man so over- joyed as he limped away on his sore feet, with his white silk braces and the striped flannel pants, that covered his skinny body to the shoulder- blades. But no sooner was he out of earshot than Tongu burst into loud complaints. We could easily have bought the girl for half the money the King's expression told him that. I should never have offered fifty pokon, but should have said that there were plenty more pretty girls on this happy island. With the fire-stick thrown in, twenty pokon would have been an excellent price. CHAPTER ELEVEN A MONTH later we all assembled at the King's House, Tongu and Toko bearing the purchase-money in their baskets. We were received ceremoniously by Wahuja, in the presence of the King and the whole Court. When the time arrived for the money to be counted, Wahuja beckoned the tallest man in the King's bodyguard to come forward. The fellow was well over six feet high, and as he proceeded to measure our papar x chains from the middle of his chest to the tips of his fingers, it soon became evident that our tabu, to fulfil the conditions, would need increasing by one-fifth. This was too much for Tongu. He sprang forward, and with bulging eyes declared that we would not submit to the longest-armed Master of the Mint in the whole kingdom. Wahuja calmly replied that that was his busi- ness. Tongu, who was extremely honourable and 1 See note, p. 135. 140 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 141 punctilious in money matters, answered hotly I had never seen the sedate old fellow so angry. They would certainly have come to blows had not the King majestically declared himself content with the measure we had employed, which corre- sponded exactly to Tongu's width of breast and length of arm. When the question of money was at last settled, the Queen appeared, escorting Ali into the room. She was covered from head to foot with a robe of pandang leaves, so that she had to be led forward by the hand. As soon as her nun's dress had been removed and, for the first time after a month's separation, she caught sight of me, she uttered a shriek of joy and ran towards me without the least regard for etiquette. His Majesty murmured, and Ali had to return to the Queen until we men had chewed betel to seal the bargain. The King offered to give a feast-dance in my honour, but I excused myself, as I saw how impatient Ali was; Wahuja also was of the opinion that a breach of marriage eti- quette was permissible on account of my not being a real Mahura man. I now presented to the Queen the promised handkerchief and white gloves, together with the 142 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS bonus agreed upon. At last All was mine in real and lawful marriage. Then I took AH home. Her bridal costume consisted of fresh-plucked red flowers in her hair and ears, and round her neck. In addition, her whole body shone regally with thick cocoa-nut oil, while her breast and arms were painted with flaming streaks of yellow. When Ali saw her new home she leaped high in the air with a shriek of delight, and began im- mediately to explore the interior. When she had finished she came up to me, put her arms round my body, and looked up in my face, her whole soul shining in her large, clear eyes. When we at last retired to rest on our new mat, her tears and smiles mingled as she clung to that which was now her whole world. She called me by the most extraordinary names fish, fowl, and other things I could not under- stand. Her joy degenerated into inarticulate noises, but when at last she became quieter she told me to the minutest detail all the sorrow and anxiety she had suffered through being separated from me. We were incredibly happy, we two we two quite alone. In the morning we jumped out of VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 143 bed like two happy, intoxicated birds, our voices bursting with song. We warbled in the blazing morning sun, and in the beginning did not even trouble to leave our nests to run down to the strand to bathe. We sat like two children, lazily watching the hens scratching at the roots of the trees, laugh- ing at the young cockerels learning to flap their wings and crow. Presently Ali would make a fire in the fire- place, choose the best taro bulbs from our food cupboard, wrap them carefully in fresh leaves, and place them on the red-hot stones. When they were properly roasted she would take them out and give them to me, tastefully served on a pisang leaf, together with a shell full of the milk of young cocoa-nuts. At first nothing would induce her to eat with me; she would squat down before me, enjoying every mouthful of bread I took, her eyes reflecting my glance, her face reproducing each expression of my own. She always drew back shyly whenever I tried to make her join me. She loved me too well to dishonour me by letting a woman eat in my presence and this although we were quite alone. 144 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS After a struggle lasting for weeks, I persuaded her to break this rule ; but even then she acquiesced only from necessity, and was never sure but that by so doing she might be causing me some secret harm. Together we enlarged our garden, together we planted taro bulbs, kneeling with our backs to the sun, sharing every labour, every pleasure. As we worked thus, day after day, she opened her whole mind to me. "Do you know where the taro bulb came from?" she asked. I did not know. "There sat an owl in a crevice high above the ground. It sat there lonely and silent, looking very depressed. The other birds came flying round it trying to make it laugh ; but it could not. The crow made itself black, the honey bird turned red, and the dove put a bump on its nose ; but to no effect. "At last came a little green parrot. It ducked itself in the mud under the mangroves, and then flew up and sat on the branch before the owl, flapping its wings so that the mud spurted in all directions. "That made the owl laugh at last. It opened its beak and laughed. In so doing it dropped VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 145 something out of its nose. The parrot seized it and swallowed it. "The parrot flew away; and shortly afterwards dropped something on the ground. Among it was that which the owl had dropped from its nose. It took root; a little plant grew up; men found it. It was the taro plant!" One day, at sunset, as we lay outside our cottage, weary and well fed, gazing up at the tall trees of the King's cocoa-nut grove, which ad- joined our farm, she asked: "Do you know how- men found the cocoa-nut palm 1 ?" I did not know. "There was once a man, and his wife bore him a son. When he was big, she sent him out with his sling to kill a pigeon. He laughed with joy, took his canoe, and paddled with his hands for at that time there were no paddles over to a small island where the pigeons were. But on the way a shark caught him and swallowed both him and his canoe. The man and his wife wept and cried the whole night but their son did not return. But the shark had only eaten the boy's body, not his head. And one day it was washed up on the shore, where the father found it and buried it. But the mother sat all day and all night by the grave, crying and tearing 146 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS her hair; and her tears fell on the grave, until at last there grew up out of the earth a tiny plant. When the man and his wife saw it, they carefully scraped the earth to one side, and now they could see quite plainly the eyes, nose, and mouth of the boy's head; it had taken root in the earth. "Then said the mother: 'Let it grow; we will see what it becomes !' "And the plant became a tall tree which bore fruit. "One day a ripe fruit fell down. Although it was as hard as a man's skull they broke it open and ate the contents. One fruit after another fell down, and they all tasted good. "Thus a good youth gave the cocoa-nut tree to mankind." One day we both captured one of the little turtles that lay basking in the sun. While we were carrying it home she asked : "Do you know why its shell is too short at the neck*?" I did not know. "There was an animal with long hind legs and short forepaws. * It was a large animal, and could jump a long, long way. There are none upon the islands now. But before this story 1 Probably the kangaroo, which is now extinct on these Islands. VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 147 happened its forepaws were the same length as its hind legs. One day Longlegs went fishing out by the reef, together with his comrades. Then came the high tide, and the others hurried back. But this one remained : he was foolhardy, and jumped from rock to rock, making fun of the fish as they came swimming in with the tide. He did not notice until too late that he was quite surrounded by the water and could not come back to land. Then he wept and begged the fish to carry him in; but they replied: 'You mocked us before; now you can help yourself!' " "At last a good-natured turtle took Longlegs upon its back and carried him to land. But on the way Longlegs gnawed at the turtle's shell just by the neck. The turtle became angry, and in revenge nibbled at the other's forepaws, which were clasped round the turtle's neck, until at last they became quite short. "When they reached the land, Longlegs jumped off and said: 'Just look at your neck, Turtle, how bare and uneven it has become!' But the tortoise replied: 'Just look at your forepaws, Longlegs, how short they have become!' "And that's how it all came about!" Ali looked gravely at me with her large eyes when the story was finished, and frowned because 148 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS I found it impossible to stop laughing. One day Ali came and put a string round my neck which she had made from cocoa-nut fibre. It was smeared with lime, and had an unpleasant smell. "What's that for?" "That is a charm against illness ! I have taken it to the witch-doctor; he has stroked it and read words over it." I had not the heart to take the string off when I saw what a feeling of gladness and security it gave her. Ali objected to my spitting when any one else was present. She was always trying to impress upon me to be careful about mumut, so that no one should find anything to throw a spell over. Whenever we sat outside our cottage at sunset, and the sudden darkness fell upon us, her eyes grew frightened and she pulled me by my arm into the cottage. When we lay at night upon our mat, and I got up to fetch anything I had forgotten outside our bamboo fence, she seized my arm and begged me with sobs not to go out into the night. If I didn't give way she always went out with me, holding tightly to my arm the whole time, so that if one of the wicked dead men's spirits which dwell by day either in the VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 149 breakers on the reef or among the bottomless man- grove swamps, but by night creep round about the houses seeking to ensnare people and make them ill should succeed in laying hold of me, she also would be bewitched, and suffer with me. There are two different kinds of spirits, so Ali has taught me. There are the spirits of the Great Kings, who, coming over the sea from the West, were the first to discover the island, take possession of it and cultivate the land. They are good spirits; and it is their house which stands by itself behind the King's House, and is the abode of the witch-doctor, who attends to them and fills their bowls with food, in return for which they hear his prayers and direct his movements accordingly. The witch-doctor is also in touch with nature's elemental spirits, some of which are good, some evil. One of them lives in the moon; you can see him sitting up there plaiting strings of cocoa-nut fibre. Another lives in the evening star, where he brews bad weather. But the one that lives in the morning star makes good weather and causes the sun to shine. The Milky Way is also full of spirits, good 150 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS and evil. At intervals they rush down and fetch a human being they have chosen for sacrifice. Some spirits live in birds, others in fish or trees. Some of them are visible to human eyes: Ali once saw one sitting on the beach warming itself in the sun. It had hair all over its body. "There is so much, so much to beware of!" sighed Ali, looking round helplessly with anxious eyes. "At any moment an evil spirit may be lying in wait for you." I sometimes tried seriously to reason her out of these unhappy superstitions, as on that even- ing when I succeeded in quieting her and Toko with regard to the sea-slug witchcraft but she immediately became shy ; looked in a puzzled and depressed manner at me, and retired into her shell, feeling intuitively for a moment the great dis- similarity in our natures. I ceased to argue the matter, merely assuring her that at any rate she need not worry on my behalf. But she did. And, after all, who really knows what does and what does not exist in this world"? On one occasion I had an attack of fever. I shivered with cold. Everything swam before my eyes. I was compelled to go to bed, covered with VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 151 all the clothes and blankets I could find in my sea-chest. All sat by my side with wide, terror-stricken eyes, which I was conscious of even in my delirium. Her expression during those days I have never forgotten. I gave her my hot hands to hold; I could feel how she shivered in sympathy with me, while she gurgled in her throat with fear and excite- ment. She talked of spirits and the witch-doctor. I knew that all the while she was trying to think of an antidote to the spell which she was con- vinced some woman or other had cast over me. Finally I sent her to fetch Tongu, so that he could search in my sea-chest for some quinine, the use of which he understood from his residence on Yap, where there is a quinine factory. She rose immediately, but stood for a long while hesitating before she dared release my hands. Finally she pressed them convulsively to her breast and hurried away. I don't know how long I was alone. Suddenly I heard subdued voices outside, and the door opened to admit a tall, doubled-up, emaciated figure which noiselessly approached my mat, Ali 152 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS remaining in the background with large, fright- ened eyes. I had never seen the man before. As he bent over me I observed that two turtle-shell plates hung tinkling from holes in his nostrils, while his long black beard, arranged in three plaits, reached down to his stomach. He commenced mumbling, his face so close to mine that I could feel his breath. Faster and faster he mumbled, at the same time fanning my face in time with his words. He put his hand on my forehead and combed my cheeks with his long fingers; but I was too weak to make any resistance whatever. Then he squatted at my side and produced from his basket one extraordinary article after another. A pungent smell filled the air; I believe it was ginger. In addition, there was betel^ and various dried herbs and leaves which I did not recognize. He took each thing separately and chewed it to a pulp, afterwards chewing the whole lot together. He then spat the resulting cud out into a cocoa- nut shell, sprinkled it with burnt lime, and stirred it well together. This remarkable preparation he proceeded to smear on my chest and arms, after- wards kneading it in thoroughly, all the while VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 153 mumbling over me, in tones which constantly varied in speed and power. I remember no more ; but when I woke, many hours afterwards, the fever was gone, though I was so limp and weak that I could scarcely lift my hand. Ali crouched beside me, her eyes burning into mine. I do not think she left me for a moment during all those endless hours. When I opened my eyes and looked at her she uttered a scream of joy and threw herself upon my breast, long, heartbreaking sobs shaking her young, strong body. CHAPTER TWELVE ONE morning when I awoke All wa* sitting up on the mat, her head on her knees, crying as if her heart would break, her whole frame quivering with emotion. I raised her head gently and, taking her hands from her face, asked what the trouble was. "I dreamed that I was a 'joyless widow' !" Having said this, she flung herself upon me, and literally howled. On the previous day we had met one of these women, Ikala by name, a tall, dark personage with large shells in her ears and a brilliantly coloured skirt. She walked by herself, swaying on her wide, full hips, singing a low, monotonous song without moving her thick, half-parted lips. As she passed, her eyes glanced at me from under their heavy lids with a strangely quiet, seductive stare. At sight of Ali she smiled slightly, a touch of contempt in the corners of her wide mouth. Slight as it was, Ali noticed the smile, and was silent long afterwards. It made a deep impres- 154 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 155 sion upon her and now she had also dreamt about it. I did my best to comfort her, but her mind was so positive and straightforward that she was very difficult to influence. "Why trouble about a silly dream? Why should you become a joyless widow 1 ?" She lifted her head, the blood flaming to her large tear-filled eyes, and answered: "I go to the Women's House today !" Ali had been there twice since our marriage, and she had passed the last few days in a state of quivering suspense because of her third visit being delayed. But now she knew that her hopes were vain, and that she must go there again. "Ikala has looked at me !" 1 she screamed, wildly tearing her hair. I laughed loudly, sang at the top of my voice, and kicked my legs. But she ignored my at- tempts to divert her. "Didn't you see how she stared at me and smiled*?" she demanded, shaking me passionately by the arm. "She looked at me too !" "Yes," she said thoughtfully, "she has also 1 i.e. cast a spell. 156 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS bewitched you. For if you had had a child, then I must have had it too!" Failing to bring her to reason, I got up, left the cottage, and walked towards the stockade- gate. "Where are you going?' she cried, stretching out her arms in terror. "Down to the beach for a swim !" I replied. "Don't leave me!" she pleaded, running and seizing me tightly round the body with her arms. "All right, only you must be quiet and sensible." She gazed at me for some moments in silent anguish; then she dried her eyes, and began quietly making preparations for breakfast. Shortly afterwards she came to the door and, look- ing anxiously about to make sure I was still there, asked: "How will you manage when I go to the Women's House?' "I managed all right the other times !" I said, laughing. "If there is any difficulty, Toko will come and help." She looked piercingly at me and said in a low voice : "Have you prayed to your spirits that I may have a child?" VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 157 "Not yet, but I will some time. There is no hurry!" She looked at me in astonishment. "No hurry?" she asked uncomprehendingly. I drew her to me and patted her cheek gently. "Would it be such a terrible thing if we never had a child at all?" She gave a violent start, and her eyes flamed again as she clutched my arm, ejaculating chok- ingly : "You must be tired of me, to say such a thing!" I put my arm round her waist and looked steadily into her eyes, until she understood that I loved her now, as I had always loved her. Nevertheless, she sighed deeply and repeated several times: "Of what use to you is a child- less woman?" When I held her tightly to me without speak- ing, she continued: "Ought you to pay a big, big tabu for a woman who does not give you children?" She threw back her head and, looking before her with a hard, almost cruel expression on her face, said in a changed voice: "When a woman is childless her husband tells her to leave him!" Suiting her actions to her words, she repulsed me 158 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS with her palms against my breast. "I bought you to breed children of my blood for my old age and for my race. Go back to your father and tell him that I will have my tabu returned. Then I will send him back his daughter that he may sell her to another, for she will give me no children!" "And what then*?" I demanded. "Then she returns to her father," Ali continued in a more normal voice. " 'What do you want*?' asks her father. 1 have not given my husband children,' she replies, 'and he has sent me back!' 'You wicked woman!' says her father, and gives her a thrashing, and no food for several days; and pays the tabu back. Then he seeks a new buyer ; but no one will buy a barren woman. She sits alone before her father's hut, weaving mats and weeping; but no husband comes." "And what more*?" I persisted, stifling her sobs by pressing her affectionately to me. " 'Go out on the road,' says her father, 'joyless widow without fruit ! Go out and do tricks for the old men!' " "Then she goes out on the road and sneaks about the huts ; and when she meets a lonely man, whose mate is at the Women's House, she beckons to him, and coaxes him till he follows her to her VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 159 hut. And he gives her a little tabu which she gives to her father as part of the big tabu she has caused him to lose. She goes about accosting old men as they lie warming their limbs in the midday sun; she rouses their desires pale, feeble ghosts of their youthful passions. Thus she goes from door to door, from mat to mat, until at last she pays back her father's tabu" So saying, Ali threw herself face downwards on the ground, sobbing as though her heart would break. "I will not be a joyless widow !" she cried. I lifted her up, calling her by every term of endearment that I knew her favourite birds, her best flowers. "I will never send you away, Ali !" But she looked straight at me, with an almost cruel expression, and answered harshly: "Are you, who are so great and good, to remain child- less for a woman's sake? Your blood shall live again in your children; children shall brighten your old age. You must kill me if I have no child." She threw herself upon me and made me promise to kill her if she gave me no children. Rather death a hundred times than be a joyless widow! I was compelled to promise before she would give me any peace.. 160 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS Then I accompanied her to the outskirts of the wood, which was as far as I was allowed to go. We said good-bye as if for ever; I stood looking after her until the liana trees swallowed her up. She did not once look back. CHAPTER THIRTEEN ONE day during All's stay at the Women's House I was lying down in the shadow of the house dozing after dinner. Suddenly something rattled outside the bamboo stockade. I looked up, but the noise ceased. Presently it came again, and I sprang to the door and looked out. At first I could see nothing, but a moment later Winawa appeared. She smiled at me and came nearer, swaying in her peculiar, indolent manner, as though her body were too heavy for her hips. When quite close, she stopped, and stood looking sideways at me with those extraordinary eyes of hers, that seemed to vibrate in time with her pulse. Upon my nodding to her she came right up to me and stretched out her hand. Her lips turned bluish, and her eyes translucent which was her way of blushing; then she showed me what was in her hand. It was a piece of kawa-TOOt. 161 162 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS "Shall I chew it for you?' she asked, casting down her eyes, just as she did the time before in the fields with the others. Winawa no longer attracted me. Since marry- ing Ali, I had no eyes for other women. I suspected Winawa of being jealous of Ali's happiness, and therefore desirous of tempting me again; for Toko was perfectly content with her, which he would not have been if she were really in love with me. But she was of an en- vious disposition, in spite of her beauty. I snatched the kawa-Toot from her and flung it far away among the trees. Winawa's whole manner changed immediately : she drew herself to her full height, her hands clenched, her lips tightened in a thin, straight line. For a moment she remained thus; then gliding past me in a half-circle, her eyes fixed on mine, she hissed, with a poisonous smile : "I have practised purmea over your wife, so that she shall bear you no children!" So saying she ran off at full speed through the brushwood, and disappeared from sight. Her words pierced my heart, as they were meant to; but, annoyed at my own stupidity, I quickly dismissed the matter from my mind. The next day Ali returned. When I heard her VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 163 call from afar in her clear, musical voice, I ran forward as fast as I could through the tangled undergrowth. Soon I saw her. She stretched out both arms towards me, throwing back her head, her hair in a halo, her whole face beaming with smiles. "You are good !" she shouted. It was her usual love-call. I rushed up to her and lifted her off her feet; she clung convulsively to me, laughing and crying brokenly in her throat. . . . Presently she made a hurried tour of the house and yard to see how I had managed without her. She chattered incessantly, raining questions upon me. She called to the hens, gave them taro crumbs, and declared that the chickens had grown. She stood with her arms akimbo and shrieked with laughter when she found that I had scraped toasted taro bulbs with my ax, instead of with the cocoa-nut-shell scraper which I could not find. She frowned disapprovingly because I had left some gnawed chicken bones lying on the leaf I used for a plate. That was careless, for it was mumut. She insisted on my helping her to count the bones to see whether any of them had been stolen by some one desiring to practise purmea upon them. 164 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS As the magic word passed her lips she became suddenly serious. She turned from the food- shelves, seized my arm, and told me how, when she arrived at the Women's House, she met Winawa, who was just leaving. They came face to face just outside the door. Ali, ashamed of still being a visitor to the Women's House after three full months of married life, tried to hide behind some other women who were entering, and thus sneak past Winawa unobserved. But the latter had already seen her. "Ai !" she shouted, "there is the Brown Earth's woman. She has been married for more than three new moons, and yet comes here still. What is the matter with you*? Has the Brown Earth already deserted you for another, or has some one practised purmea upon your body?" Ali restrained herself, and walked past her rival without speaking. At this Winawa shouted: "Look at the withered leaf; how proud she is! But it is I who found her mumut, and now she is barren as a stone !" Ali shrieked, and would have attacked her, but she was already gone. Only her pealing laughter filled the air. Now I understood why Winawa had come to my cottage. I was very glad indeed that I had VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 165 repulsed her. But I did not consider it wise to tell Ali of her visit. Ali gave me no peace until I promised to take her to the witch-doctor, Kabua-Kenka, the guardian of the House of the Spirits, situated beyond the King's cocoa-nut grove. One morning early she put on a new, plaited loin-skirt, thrust fresh-plucked flowers in her hair and ears, and smeared herself carefully with cocoa- nut oil on hair, arms, and breasts. It is not seemly to visit the witch-doctor save in gala dress. Otherwise the forefathers' spirits, with whom he associates, and who eat from his hand, might take offence, and refuse their help. I had to have an extra coat of colouring lest the spirits should discover my foreign skin and perhaps be frightened away. One never knew in what kind of mood they might be. Ali impressed upon me that, in the event of the spell being a failure, we should later on blame ourselves severely for having neglected some point of etiquette, thus necessitating a repetition of the whole ceremony. The witch-doctor is very expensive. In ad- dition, he must be paid in advance and does not guarantee results. If the spell is a failure it is 166 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS obviously the customer's own fault; perhaps he has, in entering the hut, put his right foot fore- most instead of his left; or perhaps he has been grudging in his offering to the spirits' food-bowl. No breakfast was permitted. It is necessary to fast that the spell may work properly. Ali did not leave me alone for one instant, fearing that I would snatch a stolen mouthful of some- thing or other. She was aware of my reckless agnosticism. My assurance of a sleepless night, spent in ceaseless communion with the spirits of my own race, did not shake her one atom. She was glad and thankful for it, but insisted that as it was she who should bear the child, it must therefore be the business of her spirits to look after the matter ; otherwise, perhaps I would have a child but not she. Especially now that Winawa's evil spell must be exorcized. CHAPTER FOURTEEN A LI was very serious when we set out, each carrying a basket filled with gifts and tabu. There was food for the spirits' eating-bowl: four freshly killed young hens, eight flying-fish, and a quantity of the best cocoa-nuts obtainable; in addition, two pokon tabu, which Tongu had paid me for painting his canoe with European designs, far superior to any native workmanship. All the way along the fence enclosing the King's cocoa-nut grove, Ali maintained a dead silence; when we reached the path which leads through the woods to the House of the Spirits she began to tremble violently; but when we at last stood before the door of the dirty, insignifi- cant building, her teeth chattered with terror and suspense. Her future happiness, nay, her very life, hung in the balance ! The witch-doctor is a much-feared man; women make a big detour when they see him ap- proach, carrying his fan, his arm-basket, and his 167 168 VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS folded mat, the emblems of his profession; while children scream and run like frightened chickens the moment they set eyes on his long, plaited beard. I had to shout Kabua-Kenka's name three times before he at last appeared in the doorway, gnaw- ing a /tfro-root, the turtle-shell plates in his nose clashing and jingling against one another. I rec- ognized at once the doubled-up, emaciated old man with sunken temples and white hair who had visited me during my illness. He cast a keen, suspicious look at me, as if wondering whether or not to believe the gossip which he had doubtless heard about me. His filthy fingers fumbled with his beard, but Ali, sensing his distrust, hastened to assure him that I was a good man, who had come with offerings for the spirits. She emphasized her words by opening the basket and displaying to the holy man the deli- cious young hens and the fresh flying-fish. The old man smacked his lips loudly, and without a word stood aside, giving us entry into the sanctu- ary. It stank of the most incredible contents, so that I almost swooned: a pig grunted softly some- VAN ZANTEN'S HAPPY DAYS 169 where behind a hung-up mat, a rat poked its nose through a hole in the bamboo wall, where it stared at us for some moments with the same suspicious expression as its master, before condescending to retire from view. After a while, having become more accustomed to the atmospheric conditions, I began looking about me. From the low ceiling hung row after row of strange plants and herbs, among which I recognized the