While they remain Heathen, and have many wives to manage, the condition of most of the women is worse than slavery. On remonstrating with a Chief, who was savagely beating one of his wives, he indignantly assured me,—
“We must beat them, or they would never obey us. When they quarrel, and become bad to manage, we have to kill one, and feast on her. Then all the other wives of the whole tribe are quiet and obedient for a long time to come.”
I knew one Chief, who had many wives, always jealous of each other and violently quarrelling amongst themselves. When he was off at war, along with his men, the favourite wife, a tall and powerful woman, armed herself with an axe, and murdered all the others. On his return he made peace with her, and, either in terror or for other motives, promised to forego and protect her against all attempts at revenge. One has to live amongst the Papuans, or the Malays, in order to understand how much Woman is indebted to Christ!
The old Chiefs only brother was called Kalangi. Twice in Heathen days he tried to shoot me. On the second occasion he heard me rebuking his daughter for letting a child destroy a beautiful Island plant in front of our house. He levelled his musket at me, but his daughter, whom we were training at the Mission House, ran in front of it, and cried,—“O father, don’t shoot Missi! He loves me. He gives us food and clothing. He teaches us about Jehovah and Jesus!”
Then she pled with me to retire into the house, saying,—“He will not shoot you for fear of shooting me. I will soothe him down. Leave him to me, and flee for safety.”
Thus she probably saved my life. Time after time he heard from this little daughter all that we taught her, and all she could remember of our preaching. By-and-bye he showed a strong personal interest in the things he heard about Jesus, and questioned deeply, and learned diligently. When he became a Christian, he constituted himself, along with Nelwang, my body-guard, and often marched near me, or within safe distance of me, armed with tomahawk and musket, when I journeyed from village to village in the pre-Christian days. Once, on approaching one of our most distant villages, Nelwang sprang to my side, and warned me of a man in the bush watching an opportunity to shoot me. I shouted to the fellow,—
“What are you going to shoot there? This is the Lord’s own Day!”
He answered, “Only a bird.”
I replied, “Never mind it to-day. You can shoot it to-morrow. We are going to your Village. Come on before us, and show us the way!”
Seeing how I was protected, he lowered his musket, and marched on before us. Kalangi addressed the people, after I had spoken and prayed. In course of time they became warm friends of the Worship; and that very man and his wife, who once sought my life, sat with me at the Lord’s Table on Aniwa. And the little girl, above referred to, is now the wife of one of the Elders there, and the mother of three Christian children,—both she and her husband being devoted workers in the Church of God.
Litsi, the only daughter of Namakei, had, both in her own career and in her connection with poor, dear Mungaw, an almost unparalleled experience. She was entrusted to us when very young, and became a bright, clever, and attractive Christian girl. Many sought her hand, but she disdainfully replied,—
“I am Queen of my own Island, and when I like I will ask a husband in marriage, as you told us that the great Queen Victoria did!”
Her first husband, however won, was undoubtedly the tallest and most handsome man on Aniwa; but he was a giddy fool, and, on his early death, she again returned to live with us at the Mission House. Her second marriage had everything to commend it, but it resulted in indescribable disaster. Mungaw, heir to a Chief, had been trained with us, and gave every evidence of decided Christianity. They were married in the Church, and lived in the greatest happiness. He was able and eloquent, and was first chosen as a deacon, then as an Elder of the Church, and finally as High Chief of one half of the Island. He showed the finest Christian spirit under many trying circumstances. Once, when working at the lime for the building of our Church, two bad men, armed with muskets, sought his life for some revenge or another. Hearing of the quarrel, I rushed to the scene, and heard him saying,—