Twenty years before the mast/Chapter VI
CHAPTER VI.
On the 10th of October we came to anchor in Pago Pago Bay, on the south side of the island of Tutuila. This is another rendezvous of our whalers and South Pacific traders. Ships seldom enter or leave Pago Pago Bay without a great deal of "going about," "tacking," "wearing," "luffing," "letting go," and "hauling." Then one must be very careful, or the ship will get "in stays or irons." If this happens, the alternative will be to "box her off" or to "wear her round on her heel." Entering this harbor is something like beating up the Straits of Balambangan, when the ship’s yards have to be braced chock up in the wind’s eye to keep the monkey’s tails from getting squeezed in the brace blocks.
This bay, Pago Pago, is very deep, penetrating so far into the island as to cut it nearly in two. Its shores are rugged rocks, of a volcanic nature, from eight hundred to a thousand feet high. The bay reminds one of a huge extinct crater half full of water. There is a coral bank about a mile long, near the entrance, and the sea breaks over it when there is any wind. As soon as we had dropped anchor we were surrounded by numerous canoes filled with natives, bringing fruit of all kinds. These savages were highly delighted with the ships, and the number of men on board. On many of the islands of the Pacific there were runaway convicts from Hobart Town and Sydney, the Botany Bay of Great Britain. There were also many runaway sailors and many who had not run away, but who had been driven off by bad usage. The next morning after our arrival, an American whaler, hailing from New Bedford, came into port with a red shirt fluttering to the breeze from her fore-rigging.
PAGO PAGO BAY.
When a man-of-war’s man sees that signal he well knows that there is difficulty between Jack before the mast and the officers of that ship. Our commodore was soon on board the whaler and listening to Jack’s yarn. He was told that they were two years out; that they were full of oil, had plenty of provisions, and were homeward bound; that they had been put on short allowance; were short-handed, five of the crew having died, and three being sick in their bunks from ill-treatment; and that they were so tyrannically abused that they had taken charge of the ship, confining the officers below in the cabin, and had steered for the nearest port. Our commodore, who acted as arbitrator, soon settled matters, and the whaler sailed for the United States a week afterward, with several of our invalids on board of her.
The Samoan group of islands is situated in the South Pacific Ocean, between latitudes 13° and 15° south, longitude 168° west. There are about twelve islands, large and small, Savaii being the largest, then Apolima. Tutuila is about one hundred miles in circumference. The entire area of the group is about three thousand square miles. The population was at that time nearly sixty thousand. The people are divided into two parties, — the Christians, who follow the missionaries, and the "Devils," who do not. The latter were so named by the former. While exploring the interior, we discovered several extinct craters, on Mt. Malata, over two thousand feet above the level of the sea. One on the summit was two miles in circumference and three hundred feet deep. Its bottom was a beautiful sight. It was thickly covered with a forest of lofty palm trees. We also found several mountain streamlets, beautiful waterfalls, and fairy lakes. The various vines, and rattans almost a hundred feet long, were so thick that we could with difficulty make our way through them. The warbling of beautiful birds was enchanting. Our botanist seemed at a loss for words with which to name the unknown blossoms that adorned these woods and filled the air with their fragrance. The wild orange was very plentiful, and in places the ground was literally covered with it. I think they are of a richer flavor than the cultivated ones, — at any rate, they are larger.
On our way back to the ship we came to one of the "Devils’" villages. Near it was a fine, stately tree. It had been stripped of its branches except at its top. It was timbered in at its base after the fashion of the hull of a ship. This tree served as a mast; a small cocoanut tree made a bowsprit; another, a rudder; blocks of coral answered for ballast, while vines, creepers, and rattans served as her rigging. This Papalangi ship, as the natives called her, afforded them a great deal of amusement and pastime. There were a great number of young natives, heathen or devils, as you choose to call them, playing and having a jolly time with her.
After our return to the ship, on going down to the berth deck, Elijah King, a Boston boy, called me by name. On looking round I saw him and another man whom I took for a native. The latter had very long hair and whiskers and was tattooed from head to foot. He had nothing on but the mora, or girdle. He looked wild and savage, though very intelligent. They were sitting on a mess-chest talking, others of the crew round them listening. King asked me where I was born. I said on Roxbury Neck. At once the stranger seized me and set me on his knee, while the big tears rolled down his cheeks. He said that I had sat upon his knee when a child, before my father left home. I told him I had no remembrance of my father. It was always mother, mother, mother with me. This man’s name was Daniel French, and he was born in Roxbury. He said his relatives lived in the western part of the town, and that he was in ill health when he shipped on board of a whaler. They had had extraordinarily good luck, for in twenty months they were full of oil; but their rations and treatment were so bad that he, with several others, left the ship, and he had been on this island ever since — sixteen years. He had married a "Devil" chief’s daughter, and had thirteen little ones. In 1875 I heard that Mr. French was still living.
A whaler’s crew are not paid by the month, but have a lay; that is to say, the captain has one barrel out of every thirty, and Jack before the mast one out of about every five hundred. At the end of a voyage, through much abuse and tyrannical treatment by the officers of the ship, Jack before the mast is often fairly driven from the ship. This is called desertion. Then his lay falls to the owners, if the captain does not contrive some way or other to secure it.
In the Christian villages we saw their churches and schoolhouses. The missionaries here have their printing-press, and had translated and printed most of the Bible into the native language. Many of the native women dress in loose gingham or calico frocks, and the men wear a shirt or a pair of trousers, and sometimes both. Both sexes wear their hair short and sprinkle it with coral lime to destroy the vermin. This causes their hair to turn a carroty red. Sunday is strictly observed here. A native will not so much as get you a cocoanut upon that day. I do not remember ever having been in a meeting where the people were more quiet and attentive to the preaching than here among the missionaries. Here was the old pioneer, the Rev. John Williams, the author of The Missionary Enterprise. All hands used to like his preaching. He was truly one of God’s noblemen.
We found no churches or schoolhouses in the "Devils’" villages. They live altogether differently from the Christians. They dress in the old heathen style, wearing only the titi, that is, a girdle of leaves that gives them
A "DEVIL" MAN.
a most graceful appearance. The leaves are slit, and the dress has the appearance of a short striped petticoat. They wear their hair long, usually tied in a bunch on one side of the head, which gives them a wild look.
We witnessed some of their war dances. The "Devils’" dance was only indulged in by the young ladies. The audience would lie down on mats, and three or four of the old women would beat time with small sticks on a short log. The dancers kept excellent time to the music, 
MALIETOA, THE CHRISTIAN CHIEF.
There was no king over these islands, but there were several chiefs, each of whom ruled over a district, village, or bay. The Ten Commandments were the common law of the islands. I will give the "Devils" their due, and say that they entertained us hospitably while we were in their villages, although they were duly compensated through our traffic with them. Their mode of salutation is to take one’s hand and rub the back of it over their noses. The first pigs were brought here by Captain Cook. The natives decorated the largest hogs with wreaths of flowers, and tied necklaces of shells around their necks; in fact, they were fairly carried away with this, to them, new species of animal. The missionaries have introduced many cattle, horses, and fowls. The first mule that was imported was a "Jumbo" to them. He also was decorated with many gay flowers and wreaths and was marched around the island to gratify the natives with a sight of him. There are many specimens of manly beauty among the Samoans. As for the women, they are stout and ill-formed. The girls are lively, have expressive countenances, and, what is rare among the islands of the Pacific, have a degree of bashfulness unlike their sisters of Tahiti. They have not very musical voices, but are wonderfully correct in beating time. When a native wishes to take a wife he gets the consent of the chief. Then he takes a basket of bread-fruit and offers it to the girl of his choice. If she accepts, his suit is gained. He then must pay to her parents a certain price for her. A chiefs daughter is valued as high as a musket, a half-dozen hatchets or plane-irons, or as many yards of sheeting. Tattooing is called "ta-ta-tau." The natives are very fond of it, and it is not uncommon to see the whole body covered. It is performed by persons who make it a regular business.
Having finished the survey of Tutuila, we up anchor and stood for the island of Upolu about forty miles to the westward. Next morning we dropped anchor in the harbor of Apia. We were soon visited by the big chief of the Christian party, his wife, two daughters, and a number of small chiefs. Pea, the big chief, wore a sailor’s jacket, trousers, a white vest, a tall beaver hat, and shoes. His wife wore a short calico jacket and a straw bonnet, but no shoes. He looked like a grandson beside her, for he was a very small man, while she was an extremely large woman. Their two daughters were very gayly dressed. They wore short gingham frocks, flashy waist- ribbons, and morocco shoes. The small chiefs wore nothing but their native tapa tied round their waists so as to cover the lower part of the body. After visiting the different parts of the ship, refreshments were served in the wardroom, where they ate and ate until they could eat no more.
During our surveying trip across the island we visited many of the "Devils’" towns, or those not yet Christian
EMMA, DAUGHTER OF MALEITOA.
The native canoes are finely built, and have a deck both forward and aft. They are long and narrow, with an out-rigger, and are elegantly modeled. The seat of honor is the forward deck, in the center of which a row of pegs is placed, to which a large oval shell is attached by way of ornament. A native finds no difficulty in sitting there, but a stranger is painfully impressed before many minutes are over, and will long remember the honor he there enjoyed. Nor will he soon forget the canoe song: "Lilei tusilava le tan mau, leango tusilava le tan mau," "Good above all is the part before, bad above all is the part behind."
During our stay here the missionary brig Camden arrived with missionaries for this station. A few days before we sailed, all hands but a quarter watch went on shore to the mission house, armed with bowie-knives and pistols, to drill. There we met several thousand natives who were waiting to witness the performance. Greatly astonished and wild with fear they watched our cutlass- exercises. But at the close, when, all together, we discharged our pistols into the air, they fell flat on the ground and kissed the earth. Before we went on board Mr. Williams was appointed American consul for the Samoan group, and the American flag was hoisted at his house.
When these islands were first discovered, in 1678, they were estimated to have a population of about one hundred thousand. It is a most singular fact that the group was not again visited, as far as known, by any ship from the civilized world, until 1778, a hundred years afterward, when the Astrolabe and La Perduse touched there and the captain and part of the crew of the former were barbarously massacred by the natives. When visited by the missionaries, in 1830, from frequent wars among themselves, the population had decreased to less than sixty thousand. The missionaries found two white men here. One of them was Mr. Daniel French, who remembered me when a child, to whom I have previously referred. The Rev. John Williams revisited them in 1836, in the Messenger of Peace, a small vessel of about ninety tons, built by him at the Society Islands out of cocoanut and bread-fruit trees. He was accompanied by a number of missionaries for this station, among them Mr. Harris.
The constellation of the Pleiades, though small its stars and pale their light, is of wide fame. They are called by Jack before the mast "The Seven Sisters," though there are really fourteen of them. Their appearance on the horizon in December is hailed with shell- music and rejoicing by the natives in these latitudes.
Having completed our survey of all the islands of this group, on the 10th signal was made for the squadron to get under way. Our anchor was soon catted, and sails hoisted to catch the gentle breezes of the Pacific. In a short time the beautiful port of Upolu was far in the distance. On the 12th we made Uea or Wallis Island. 
NATIVES HAILING THE RE-APPEARANCE OF THE PLEIADES.
On the 18th we made Matthew’s Rock. It is about a mile in circumference, and over a thousand feet high. On the 24th we had a very serious storm of thunder and lightning. Our conductors, from the royal-mast-truck down to the night-heads, yard-arms, and mast-heads, were all illuminated with corpo santos. All hands felt the electric shocks more or less. The wind blew furiously all night. It was more sublime than anything I ever experienced in the Gulf Stream. On the 26th we made Ball’s Pyramid, which is a large, barren rock uprisen from the sea. At sunset we made Port Jackson Light, and lay to off the light-house for some time waiting for a pilot. None answering our signal, our commodore acted as pilot and brought the squadron up to the city. About eleven o’clock we quietly dropped anchor in the midst of the shipping, without any of the pilots or the authorities knowing anything about our arrival. The good people of Sydney were much surprised in the morning, and indeed frightened, at seeing an American squadron, lying in their harbor, which had come up in the night, unknown to any of the city authorities. Their fears were soon allayed when they learned that we were merely on a scientific expedition.
The morning was beautiful, and the scene which met our eyes was unlike anything we had hitherto witnessed during our voyage. The familiar language spoken, and the strong resemblance which everything bore to our own homes, gave us an indescribable feeling of pleasure. Not long before our arrival it had been debated whether more effectual means of fortification were not necessary for the harbor. The idea of this being needed was ridiculed by the majority, but the entrance of our ships by night seemed to change their opinion, for we might, after firing their shipping and reducing the greater part of their city to ashes, have effected a retreat before daylight in perfect safety. Since then they have built several new forts.
The Australian Club House was thrown open to our officers, and balls and parties were given in their honor. A few days after our arrival, the brig Camden arrived from the New Hebrides, when we learned the melancholy intelligence of the death of the Rev. John Williams, who, it appears, preached his last sermon on board our ship, so short a time before, at the Samoan group. Mr. Cunningham related the following: "After leaving Pago Pago, they placed native missionaries at Rotuma and Totoona. Mr. Williams landed at Tanna, which they found in a high state of cultivation, and were hospitably received by the natives. These were Papuans, and spoke a language very much like that of the Hervey Islanders. At Tanna Samoan missionaries were also left, and they then proceeded to Erromango. Here they found a barren country and a different race of men — black, with woolly hair — who did not comprehend a word of any language known to the missionaries. The natives, though apparently suspicious, exhibited no signs of actual attack. Mr. Williams with Mr. Harris, Mr. Cunningham, and the captain of the brig landed and were strolling about and amusing themselves picking up shells. While thus engaged they had separated from each other. Mr. Harris and Mr. Williams were in advance of the others. Suddenly the war shout was heard, and Mr. Harris was seen running, pursued by a crowd of natives. He was soon overtaken by them and clubbed to death. Mr. Williams then turned and ran for the boat; but he had delayed too long, and, although he had reached the water, was followed into it and slain also." Mr. Cunningham and the captain escaped with great difficulty, and, after some fruitless attempts to recover the bodies, left the island. Mr. Cunningham was of the opinion that the attack was not premeditated, but arose from a desire to obtain possession of the clothes of the persons massacred. The missionary cause sustained a great loss in Mr. Williams’s death.
Portions of the island of Australia were visited by the Spaniards as early as the year 1520. The Dutch, when they captured it in the year 1606, named it New Holland. When the English took possession of it they named it New South Wales. It is now called Australia. It was to this place that England used to transport her convicts, and from this fact it was named the pickpockets’ quarter of the globe. Sydney is its capital and seat of government. George Street is the Broadway of Sydney. The Cove — God save the name! — is the old Ann Street of Boston; South Street of Philadelphia; River of Styx, Norfolk; Sausage Row, Cincinnati; Five Points or the Hook of New York; Hog Lane of Canton. In fact, it is more than the Ratcliffe Highway of London. There are plenty of old Fagins and old Fagin’s pupils living here. Here you will find all nations mixed up together, eating, drinking, singing, dancing, gambling, quarreling, and fighting. Inns abound here, for which the English, you know, are celebrated. Here is the Sailors’ Inn, the Soldiers’ Inn, the Ladies’ Inn, Punch-Bowl Inn, Shamrock Inn, Thistle Inn, the Ship’s Inn, King’s Arms Inn, and others too numerous to mention, not forgetting the Dew Drop Inn.
One day a boat’s crew of us dropped into the Jolly Sailors’ Inn. It was a large square room. On either side were a number of tables, over which hung various national flags. Under the Russian Bear were seated a boat’s crew, singing the Russian national song. It was given with a will. When they had finished, an English boat’s crew, sitting under the Union Jack, sang:
"When Britain first at Heaven’s command
Arose from out the azure main,
This was the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sang the strain:
Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves!
Britons never, never shall be slaves!"
This was sung several times in true-blue style.
At the French table, sitting under the Tri-color of France, the French boat’s crew sang the Marseillaise Hymn:
"Ye sons of France, awake to glory!
Hark, hark! what myriads bid you rise!
Your children, wives, and grandsires hoary;
Behold their tears, and hear their cries!
Behold their tears, and hear their cries!
Shall hateful tyrants, mischief breeding,
With hireling hosts, a ruffian band,
Affright and desolate the land,
While peace and liberty lie bleeding?
To arms, to arms, ye brave!
Th’ avenging sword unsheathe!
March on, march on, all hearts resolved
On liberty or death!
"O Liberty! can man resign thee,
Once having felt thy generous flame?
Can dungeons, bolts, and bars confine thee?
Or whips thy noble spirit tame?
Or whips thy noble spirit tame?
Too long the world has wept, bewailing
That Falsehood’s dagger tyrants wield;
But Freedom is our sword and shield,
And all their arts are unavailing."
This was grand. When the French had finished singing, our boat’s crew, sitting under the Stars and Stripes, gave them
Yankee Doodle.
Ye gallant sons of liberty, you bravely have defended
Your country’s rights by land and sea, and to her cause attended.
With Yankee Doodle, doodle, doo, Yankee Doodle dandy,
Our tars will show the haughty foe Columbia’s sons are handy.
Upon the ocean’s wide domain our tars are firm and true, sirs,
And Freedom’s cause they well maintain, with Yankee Doodle doo, sirs.
The Fourth day of July, ’t is said, — that day will Britain rue, sirs, —
An independent tune we played, called Yankee Doodle doo, sirs.
Columbia’s sons then did declare they would be independent,
And for King George they would not care, nor yet for his descendant.
The regent thought he’d send a fleet of ships to take our few, sirs,
But then to sea our sailors went, playing Yankee Doodle doo, sirs.
The British tars think that they can whip Yankees two to one, sirs,
But only give us man for man, — they’ll see what we can do, sirs.
That our tars care no more for France than Britain is most true, sirs,
They can make any nation dance to Yankee Doodle doo, sirs.
After this we "spliced the mainbrace" all together, the English drinking their ’alf and ’alf out of pewter mugs, the French drinking their claret out of very thin glasses, while our Russian shipmates and ourselves drank something harder out of thick glasses which were very small at the bottom. Although the Russians had sweet, soft voices, their national song is, like "Rule, Britannia," very tame, and extraordinarily short. The Marseillaise Hymn, however, made up for both. It was inspiring.
I have never been in a place where there existed such a low state of society, and where so much drunkenness was to be seen. There were not only half-dressed, dirty soldiers, but dirty and drunken women, staggering along the public streets, brawling and fighting, or being carried off by the police, who, by the way, were the proprietors of many of the rum shops. It was a curious, but not an uncommon sight, to see a big, burly, thick-lipped negro, black as a coal, walking on the street, arm in arm, with a beautiful English lady, both neatly dressed. Although seeming to be rude, one could not help stopping and staring at such sights and noticing the great contrast.
The convicts, on their arrival, were let out to contractors, and might be seen on the streets with iron chains attached to their ankles, and dragging after them, or with large, heavy, iron shackles on their legs. The chain-gang was composed of a number of convicts, who were chained together, two and two. These were driven in gangs aggregating from fifty to a hundred. The government was compelled to keep several regiments of soldiers and a large force of mounted police at this place to keep the convicts in subjection. Many of them were hired out to the settlers, to work during their terms of transportation, or until they were pardoned. Then a ticket of leave was granted them. Some of them went to work for themselves, others sought the bush and there robbed and murdered all who came within their reach. The latter were called bushrangers or outlaws, and might be shot wherever found. Quite a number were hanged after our arrival in port. A very few became good citizens. One died recently who was worth a thousand pounds sterling.
I once heard a lecturer, who had spent several weeks in Australia, say that her cities were far ahead of Boston in morals. It is not many years since complaint was made to the government against Governor McQuarrie. In reply to the complaint the governor stated that there were two distinct classes of people in Australia, — those who had been convicted, and those who ought to be. The lecturer’s remarks, considering his short residence in the cities of Australia, remind one of a certain English lord who visited this country. While walking down Broadway with a friend, he inquired if there was not such a place in town as the Bowery.
"There is, and we will take a walk down there," was the reply.
Arrived there, the noble lord made known his wish, which was to see a Bowery boy. Mr. Seward pointed out Mose, on the other side of the way, leaning against a lamp-post, with his right foot flat on the sidewalk, his left resting over the right, his trousers rolled up to show his red-topped boots. He wore a red flannel shirt, and on his head was perched a tall, black, beaver hat nearly covered with crape. His hair hung in soap-locks down his cheeks, and a long-nine cigar was in his mouth. After eyeing him some little time, his lordship said:
"I will go over and speak with him."
"You had better not," replied his friend.
He went, however, while Mr. Seward walked slowly up the Bowery. When he came abreast of Mose, the Bowery boy, he scanned him from head to foot; then, very politely raising his hat, he said:
"I am looking for Broadway, governor."
Carelessly withdrawing his cigar, and puffing a volume of smoke in his lordship’s face, Mose said:
"Why in don’t you find it, then?"
On his return to England, my lord published a book entitled "The Bowery and Bowery Boys."
While on a short expedition in the country with a surveying party we saw many of the natives, the Corroborys. They were of medium height. The color of their skin was a dark chocolate without any cream in it — a sort of reddish black. Their hair was fine, black, and silky, and inclined to curl. They were more hairy than the whites. They were slender in form, and had long legs and arms. Their foreheads were narrow; their eyes deep-set, small, and black; their noses much flattened at the upper part, between the eyes, and broad at the nostrils. The forming of the latter feature was done by the mothers during infancy. Their features were uglier than those of the Terra del Fuegians, but they had much more manly forms. They were very haughty and independent, having no masters or chiefs over them. They considered one man among them as good as another, as long as he behaved himself. Their huts were more simple and exposed than those of the Terra del Fuegians. Two forked sticks were driven into the ground, and on these was laid horizontally the limb of a tree, as a ridge-pole. The sides of the roof were composed of strips of thick bark, extending from the ridge-pole to the ground, covered first with leaves, and then with the skins of the kangaroo and other animals. The scanty clothing which they wore was made from the skins of animals. They lived on herbs, fowls, and the flesh of the kangaroo, which they killed with spears, and sometimes with the boomerang.
Their spears were about ten feet long, very slender, made of hard wood, and barbed at the end. The boomerang is a flat stick about three feet long, two inches wide, and half an inch thick, crooked or bent in the middle. It was a very formidable weapon in the hands of a native. They could throw it and hit an object behind a tree which was behind the thrower. An attempt to throw it by any one unaccustomed to its use might result injuriously. It was used both in war and the
NATIVE THROWING THE BOOMERANG.
chase, and was peculiar to the natives of Australia, no other tribe or nation having anything bearing the slightest resemblance to it.
We witnessed one of their Corrobory dances. It was held in a little clearing near the woods, close to their huts, and near a fire. About twenty natives, in quick succession, came out of the woods, their dark bodies marked with pipe clay to represent skeletons, with white 
CORROBORY DANCE.
lines drawn across the ribs, legs, arms, and head. They looked hideous, frightful, and ugly. It was an awful spectacle to look upon when they stood in line, with the dark green foliage behind and a bright fire before, and strangely suggestive of Hades.
Before beginning the dance they stood still and motionless for a long time, staring very wildly at us; then all
NATIVE DANCE.
of a sudden they jumped up and yelled like so many hyenas. They kept on jumping up and down, throwing their whole arms and legs about as if they had no ankle or knee joints or elbows. There was no balance to partners, up and down the center, all hands round, or fore and aft with them; but they would suddenly, one after the other, vanish from sight, which was done simply by their turning around, when their dusky forms would become invisible. The dance ended with a very loud "Ho-ho- ho!" way down in their throats.
The woods here are charming. There is very little underbrush, and the trees grow straight up. There are many gum trees among them. Their tops are alive with parrots and paroquets, and other birds of rich plumage may be seen winging their graceful forms in the air or flying from one tree to another. There are many humming-birds here, and bell-birds whose notes sound like the clink of a stone hammer. It is generally believed that all Indians are very fond of dogs, but these natives never have any, though there are many wild dogs here.
A great variety of entertainments — balls, parties, dinners, and late suppers — was given our officers by the governor and other officials. They and the American consul often visited our ships. They were greatly surprised when they learned that we were bound to the south polar regions. They said that our ships were too frail to cruise among icebergs; but that we were young Americans, foolhardy and reckless, and they supposed that we would go on. In fact, our ships were not built, like the Russian and the English ships, for the express purpose of cruising among the ice, but we had been ordered to go, and we obeyed orders. All the ships of the squadron having undergone the necessary repairs, such as calking, overhauling, setting up our standing rigging, reefing new running gear, etc., all hands put in a hard day’s work on Christmas, and then we were ready.