“Come on, let us kill him now!”
I replied, “My Jehovah God will punish you; a Man-of-war will come and punish you, if you kill Abraham, his wife, or me.”
He retorted, “It’s all lies about a Man-of-war! They did not punish the Erromangans. They are afraid of us. Come on, let us kill them!”
He raised his tomahawk and aimed to strike my forehead, many muskets were uplifted as if to shoot, so I raised a revolver in my right hand and pointed it at them. The Rev. Joseph Copeland had left it with me on a former visit. I did not wish it, but he insisted upon leaving it, saying that the very knowledge that I had such a weapon might save my life. Truly, on this occasion it did so. Though it was harmless, they fell back quickly. My immediate assailant dropped to the ground, crying,—
“Missi has got a short musket! He will shoot you all!”
After lying flat on the ground for a little, they all got up and ran to the nearest bush, where they continued yelling about and showing their muskets. Towards nightfall they left, loaded with the plunder of the store and of Abraham’s house. So God once more graciously protected us from falling into their cruel hands.
In the evening, after they left, I went to Miaki and Nouka. They professed great sorrow at what had taken place, and pretended to have given them a present of food not to do us further injury. But Nowar informed us that, on the contrary, they had hired them to return and kill us next morning and plunder everything on the Mission premises. Miaki, with a sneer, said,—
“Missi, where was Jehovah to-day? There was no Jehovah to-day to protect you. It’s all lies about Jehovah. They will come and kill you, and Abraham, and his wife, and cut your bodies into pieces to be cooked and eaten in every village upon Tanna.”
I said, “Surely, when you had planned all this, and brought them to kill us and steal all our property, Jehovah did protect us, or we would not have been here!”
He replied, “There was no Jehovah to-day! We have no fear of any Man-of-war. They dare not punish us. They durst not punish the Erromangans for murdering the Gordons. They will talk to us and say we must not do so again, and give us a present. That is all. We fear nothing. The talk of all Tanna is that we will kill you and seize all your property to-morrow.”
I warned him that the punishment of a Man-of-war can only reach the body and the land, but that Jehovah’s punishment reached both body and soul in Time and in Eternity.
He replied: “Who fears Jehovah? He was not here to protect you to-day!”
“Yes,” I said, “my Jehovah God is here now. He hears all we say, sees all we do, and will punish the wicked and protect His own people.”
After this, a number of the people sat down around me, and I prayed with them. But I left with a very heavy heart, feeling that Miaki was evidently bent on our destruction.
I sent Abraham to consult Nowar, who had defended us till disabled by a spear in the right knee. He sent a canoe by Abraham, advising me to take some of my goods in it to his house by night, and he would try to protect them and us. The risk was so great, we could only take a very little. Enemies were on every hand to cut off our flight, and Miaki, the worst of all, whose village had to be passed in going to Nowar’s. In the darkness of the Mission House, we durst not light a candle for fear of some one seeing and shooting us. Not one of Nowar’s men durst come to help us. But in the end it made no difference, for Nowar and his men kept what was taken there as their portion of the plunder. Abraham, his wife, and I waited anxiously for the morning light. Miaki, the false and cruel, came to assure us that the Heathen would not return that day. Yet, as daylight came in, Miaki himself stood and blew a great conch not far from our house. I ran out to see why this trumpet-shell had been blown, and found it was the signal for a great company of howling armed savages to rush down the hill on the other side of the bay and make straight for the Mission House. We had not a moment to lose. To have remained would have been certain death to us all, and also to Matthew, a Teacher just arrived from Mr. Mathieson’s Station. Though I am by conviction a strong Calvinist, I am no Fatalist. I held on while one gleam of hope remained. Escape for life was now the only path of duty. I called the Teachers, locked the door, and made quickly for Nowar’s village. There was not a moment left to carry anything with us. In the issue, Abraham, his wife, and I lost all our earthly goods, and all our clothing except what we had on. My Bible, the few translations which I had made into Tannese, and a light pair of blankets I carried with me.