My first Aniwan Book.—The Power of Music.—A Pair of Glass Eyes.—Church Building for Jesus.—The Hanging of the Bell.—Patesa and his Bride.—An Armed Embassage.—Youwili’s Taboo.—Youwili’s Conversion.—The Tobacco Idol.—First Communion on Aniwa.—Our Village Day Schools.—New Social Laws.—A Sabbath Day’s Work on Aniwa.—Our Week-day Life.—The Orphans and their Biscuits.—“The Wreck of the _Dayspring_.”—God’s Own Finger-Posts.—God’s Work our Guarantee.—Profane Swearers Rebuked.—A Heavenly Vision.—On Wing through New Zealand.—Our Second _Dayspring_.
The printing of my first Aniwan book was a great event, not so much for the toil and worry which it cost me, though that was enough to have broken the heart of many a compositor, as rather for the joy it gave to the old Chief Namakei.
The break-up at Tanna had robbed me of my own neat little printing press. I had since obtained at Aneityum the remains of one from Erromanga, that had belonged to the murdered Gordon. But the supply of letters, in some cases, was so deficient that I could print only four pages at a time; and, besides, bits of the press were wanting, and I had first to manufacture substitutes from scraps of iron and wood. I managed, however, to make it go, and by-and-bye it did good service. By it I printed our Aniwan Hymn-Book, a portion of Genesis in Aniwan, a small book in Erromangan for the second Gordon, and other little things.
The old Chief had eagerly helped me in translating and preparing this first book. He had a great desire “to hear it speak,” as he graphically expressed it. It was made up chiefly of short passages from the Scriptures, that might help me to introduce them to the treasures of Divine truth and love. Namakei came to me, morning after morning, saying,—
“Missi, is it done? Can it speak?”
At last I was able to answer, “Yes!”
The old Chief eagerly responded, “Does it speak my words?”
I said, “It does.”
With rising interest, Namakei exclaimed,—
“Make it speak to me, Missi! Let me hear it speak.”
I read to him a part of the book, and the old man fairly shouted in an ecstasy of joy: “It does speak! It speaks my own language, too! Oh, give it to me!”
He grasped it hurriedly, turned it all round every way, pressed it to his bosom, and then, closing it with a look of great disappointment, handed it back to me, saying, “Missi, I cannot make it speak! It will never speak to me.”
“No,” said I; “you don’t know how to read it yet, how to make it speak to you; but I will teach you to read, and then it will speak to you as it does to me.”
“O Missi, dear Missi, show me how to make it speak!” persisted the bewildered Chief. He was straining his eyes so, that I suspected they were dim with age, and could not see the letters. I looked out for him a pair of spectacles, and managed to fit him well. He was much afraid of putting them on at first, manifestly in dread of some sort of sorcery. At last when they were properly placed, he saw the letters and everything so clearly that he exclaimed in great excitement and joy,—
“I see it all now! This is what you told us about Jesus. He opened the eyes of a blind man. The word of Jesus has just come to Aniwa. He has sent me these glass eyes. I have gotten back again the sight that I had when a boy. O Missi, make the book speak to me now!”
I walked out with him to the public Village Ground. There I drew A B C in large characters upon the dust, showed him the same letters in the book, and left him to compare them, and find out how many occurred on the first page. Fixing these in his mind, he came running to me, and said,—