The Whale Tooth
It was in the early days in Fiji, when John Starhurst arose in the missionhouse at Rewa Village and announced his intention of carrying the gospelthroughout all Viti Levu. Now Viti Levu means the "Great Land," it being thelargest island in a group composed of many large islands, to say nothing ofhundreds of small ones. Here and there on the coasts, living by mostprecarious tenure, was a sprinkling of missionaries, traders, beche-de-merfishers, and whaleship deserters. The smoke of the hot ovens arose under theirwindows, and the bodies of the slain were dragged by their doors on the way tothe feasting.The Lotu, or the Worship, was progressing slowly, and, often, in crablikefashion. Chiefs, who announced themselves Christians and were welcomed intothe body of the chapel, had a distressing habit of backsliding in order topartake of the flesh of some favorite enemy. Eat or be eaten had been the lawof the land; and eat or be eaten promised to remain the law of the land for along time to come. There were chiefs, such as Tanoa, Tuiveikoso, andTuikilakila, who had literally eaten hundreds of their fellow men. But amongthese gluttons Ra Undreundre ranked highest. Ra Undreundre lived at Takiraki.He kept a register of his gustatory exploits. A row of stones outside hishouse marked the bodies he had eaten. This row was two hundred and thirtypaces long, and the stones in it numbered eight hundred and seventy-two. Eachstone represented a body. The row of stones might have been longer, had not RaUndreundre unfortunately received a spear in the small of his back in a bushskirmish on Somo Somo and been served up on the table of Naungavuli, whosemediocre string of stones numbered only forty-eight.The hard-worked, fever-stricken missionaries stuck doggedly to their task, attimes despairing, and looking forward for some special manifestation, someoutburst of Pentecostal fire that would bring a glorious harvest of souls. Butcannibal Fiji had remained obdurate. The frizzle-headed man-eaters were loathto leave their fleshpots so long as the harvest of human carcases wasplentiful. Sometimes, when the harvest was too plentiful, they imposed on themissionaries by letting the word slip out that on such a day there would be akilling and a barbecue. Promptly the missionaries would buy the lives of thevictims with stick tobacco, fathoms of calico, and quarts of trade beads.Natheless the chiefs drove a handsome trade in thus disposing of their surpluslive meat. Also, they could always go out and catch more.It was at this juncture that John Starhurst proclaimed that he would carry theGospel from coast to coast of the Great Land, and that he would begin bypenetrating the mountain fastnesses of the headwaters of the Rewa River. Hiswords were received with consternation.The native teachers wept softly. His two fellow missionaries strove todissuade him. The King of Rewa warned him that the mountain dwellers wouldsurely kai-kai him--kai-kai meaning "to eat"--and that he, the King of Rewa,having become Lotu, would be put to the necessity of going to war with themountain dwellers. That he could not conquer them he was perfectly aware.That they might come down the river and sack Rewa Village he was likewiseperfectly aware. But what was he to do? If John Starhurst persisted in goingout and being eaten, there would be a war that would cost hundreds of lives.Later in the day a deputation of Rewa chiefs waited upon John Starhurst. Heheard them patiently, and argued patiently with them, though he abated not awhit from his purpose. To his fellow missionaries he explained that he was notbent upon martyrdom; that the call had come for him to carry the Gospel intoViti Levu, and that he was merely obeying the Lord's wish.To the traders who came and objected most strenuously of all, he said: "Yourobjections are valueless. They consist merely of the damage that may be doneyour businesses. You are interested in making money, but I am interested insaving souls. The heathen of this dark land must be saved."John Starhurst was not a fanatic. He would have been the first man to deny theimputation. He was eminently sane and practical.He was sure that his mission would result in good, and he had private visionsof igniting the Pentecostal spark in the souls of the mountaineers and ofinaugurating a revival that would sweep down out of the mountains and acrossthe length and breadth of the Great Land from sea to sea and to the isles inthe midst of the sea. There were no wild lights in his mild gray eyes, butonly calm resolution and an unfaltering trust in the Higher Power that wasguiding him.One man only he found who approved of his project, and that was Ra Vatu, whosecretly encouraged him and offered to lend him guides to the first foothills.John Starhurst, in turn, was greatly pleased by Ra Vatu's conduct. From anincorrigible heathen, with a heart as black as his practices, Ra Vatu wasbeginning to emanate light. He even spoke of becoming Lotu. True, three yearsbefore he had expressed a similar intention, and would have entered the churchhad not John Starhurst entered objection to his bringing his four wives alongwith him. Ra Vatu had had economic and ethical objections to monogamy.Besides, the missionary's hair-splitting objection had offended him; and, toprove that he was a free agent and a man of honor, he had swung his huge warclub over Starhurst's head. Starhurst had escaped by rushing in under the cluband holding on to him until help arrived. But all that was now forgiven andforgotten. Ra Vatu was coming into the church, not merely as a convertedheathen, but as a converted polygamist as well. He was only waiting, heassured Starhurst, until his oldest wife, who was very sick, should die.John Starhurst journeyed up the sluggish Rewa in one of Ra Vatu's canoes. Thiscanoe was to carry him for two days, when, the head of navigation reached, itwould return. Far in the distance, lifted into the sky, could be seen thegreat smoky mountains that marked the backbone of the Great Land. All day JohnStarhurst gazed at them with eager yearning.Sometimes he prayed silently. At other times he was joined in prayer by Narau,a native teacher, who for seven years had been Lotu, ever since the day he hadbeen saved from the hot oven by Dr. James Ellery Brown at the trifling expenseof one hundred sticks of tobacco, two cotton blankets, and a large bottle ofpainkiller. At the last moment, after twenty hours of solitary supplicationand prayer, Narau's ears had heard the call to go forth with John Starhurst onthe mission to the mountains."Master, I will surely go with thee," he had announced.John Starhurst had hailed him with sober delight. Truly, the Lord was with himthus to spur on so broken-spirited a creature as Narau."I am indeed without spirit, the weakest of the Lord's vessels," Narauexplained, the first day in the canoe."You should have faith, stronger faith," the missionary chided him.Another canoe journeyed up the Rewa that day. But it journeyed an hour astern,and it took care not to be seen. This canoe was also the property of Ra Vatu.In it was Erirola, Ra Vatu's first cousin and trusted henchman; and in thesmall basket that never left his hand was a whale tooth. It was a magnificenttooth, fully six inches long, beautifully proportioned, the ivory turnedyellow and purple with age. This tooth was likewise the property of Ra Vatu;and in Fiji, when such a tooth goes forth, things usually happen. For this isthe virtue of the whale tooth: Whoever accepts it cannot refuse the requestthat may accompany it or follow it. The request may be anything from a humanlife to a tribal alliance, and no Fijian is so dead to honor as to deny therequest when once the tooth has been accepted. Sometimes the request hangsfire, or the fulfilment is delayed, with untoward consequences.High up the Rewa, at the village of a chief, Mongondro by name, John Starhurstrested at the end of the second day of the journey. In the morning, attendedby Narau, he expected to start on foot for the smoky mountains that were nowgreen and velvety with nearness. Mongondro was a sweet-tempered, mild-manneredlittle old chief, short-sighted and afflicted with elephantiasis, and nolonger inclined toward the turbulence of war. He received the missionary withwarm hospitality, gave him food from his own table, and even discussedreligious matters with him. Mongondro was of an inquiring bent of mind, andpleased John Starhurst greatly by asking him to account for the existence andbeginning of things. When the missionary had finished his summary of theCreation according to Genesis, he saw that Mongondro was deeply affected. Thelittle old chief smoked silently for some time. Then he took the pipe fromhis mouth and shook his head sadly."It cannot be," he said. "I, Mongondro, in my youth, was a good workman withthe adze. Yet three months did it take me to make a canoe--a small canoe, avery small canoe. And you say that all this land and water was made by oneman--""Nay, was made by one God, the only true God," the missinary interrupted."It is the same thing," Mongondro went on, "that all the land and all thewater, the trees, the fish, and bush and mountains, the sun, the moon, and thestars, were made in six days! No, no. I tell you that in my youth I was anable man, yet did it require me three months for one small canoe. It is astory to frighten children with; but no man can believe it.""I am a man," the missionary said."True, you are a man. But it is not given to my dark understanding to knowwhat you believe.""I tell you, I do believe that everything was made in six days.""So you say, so you say," the old cannibal murmured soothingly.It was not until after John Starhurst and Narau had gone off to bed thatErirola crept into the chief's house, and, after diplomatic speech, handed thewhale tooth to Mongondro.The old chief held the tooth in his hands for a long time. It was a beautifultooth, and he yearned for it. Also, he divined the request that must accompanyit. "No, no; whale teeth were beautiful," and his mouth watered for it, but hepassed it back to Erirola with many apologies.. . . . . . . . . . . . . .In the early dawn John Starhurst was afoot, striding along the bush trail inhis big leather boots, at his heels the faithful Narau, himself at the heelsof a naked guide lent him by Mongondro to show the way to the next village,which was reached by midday. Here a new guide showed the way. A mile in therear plodded Erirola, the whale tooth in the basket slung on his shoulder. Fortwo days more he brought up the missionary's rear, offering the tooth to thevillage chiefs. But village after village refused the tooth. It followed soquickly the missionary's advent that they divined the request that would bemade, and would have none of it.They were getting deep into the mountains, and Erirola took a secret trail,cut in ahead of the missionary, and reached the stronghold of the Buli ofGatoka. Now the Buli was unaware of John Starhurst's imminent arrival. Also,the tooth was beautiful--an extraordinary specimen, while the coloring of itwas of the rarest order. The tooth was presented publicly. The Buli of Gatoka,seated on his best mat, surrounded by his chief men, three busy fly-brushersat his back, deigned to receive from the hand of his herald the whale toothpresented by Ra Vatu and carried into the mountains by his cousin, Erirola. Aclapping of hands went up at the acceptance of the present, the assembledheadman, heralds, and fly-brushers crying aloud in chorus:"A! woi! woi! woi! A! woi! woi! woi! A tabua levu! woi! woi! A mudua, mudua,mudua!'"Soon will come a man, a white man," Erirola began, after the proper pause."He is a missionary man, and he will come today. Ra Vatu is pleased to desirehis boots. He wishes to present them to his good friend, Mongondro, and it isin his mind to send them with the feet along in them, for Mongondro is an oldman and his teeth are not good. Be sure, O Buli, that the feet go along in theboots. As for the rest of him, it may stop here."The delight in the whale tooth faded out of the Buli's eyes, and he glancedabout him dubiously. Yet had he already accepted the tooth."A little thing like a missionary does not matter," Erirola prompted."No, a little thing like a missionary does not matter," the Buli answered,himself again. "Mongondro shall have the boots. Go, you young men, some threeor four of you, and meet the missionary on the trail. Be sure you bring backthe boots as well.""It is too late," said Erirola. "Listen! He comes now."Breaking through the thicket of brush, John Starhurst, with Narau close on hisheels, strode upon the scene. The famous boots, having filled in wading thestream, squirted fine jets of water at every step. Starhurst looked about himwith flashing eyes. Upborne by an unwavering trust, untouched by doubt orfear, he exulted in all he saw. He knew that since the beginning of time hewas the first white man ever to tread the mountain stronghold of Gatoka.The grass houses clung to the steep mountain side or overhung the rushingRewa. On either side towered a mighty precipice. At the best, three hours ofsunlight penetrated that narrow gorge. No cocoanuts nor bananas were to beseen, though dense, tropic vegetation overran everything, dripping in airyfestoons from the sheer lips of the precipices and running riot in all thecrannied ledges. At the far end of the gorge the Rewa leaped eight hundredfeet in a single span, while the atmosphere of the rock fortress pulsed to therhythmic thunder of the fall.From the Buli's house, John Starhurst saw emerging the Buli and his followers."I bring you good tidings," was the missionary's greeting."Who has sent you?" the Buli rejoined quietly."God.""It is a new name in Viti Levu," the Buli grinned. "Of what islands, villages,or passes may he be chief?""He is the chief over all islands, all villages, all passes," John Starhurstanswered solemnly. "He is the Lord over heaven and earth, and I am come tobring His word to you.""Has he sent whale teeth?" was the insolent query."No, but more precious than whale teeth is the--""It is the custom, between chiefs, to send whale teeth," the Buli interrupted."Your chief is either a niggard, or you are a fool, to come empty-handed intothe mountains. Behold, a more generous than you is before you."So saying, he showed the whale tooth he had received from Erirola.Narau groaned."It is the whale tooth of Ra Vatu," he whispered to Starhurst. "I know itwell. Now are we undone.""A gracious thing," the missionary answered, passing his hand through his longbeard and adjusting his glasses. "Ra Vatu has arranged that we should be wellreceived."But Narau groaned again, and backed away from the heels he had dogged sofaithfully."Ra Vatu is soon to become Lotu," Starhurst explained, "and I have comebringing the Lotu to you.""I want none of your Lotu," said the Buli, proudly. "And it is in my mind thatyou will be clubbed this day."The Buli nodded to one of his big mountaineers, who stepped forward, swinginga club. Narau bolted into the nearest house, seeking to hide among the womanand mats; but John Starhurst sprang in under the club and threw his armsaround his executioner's neck. From this point of vantage he proceeded toargue. He was arguing for his life, and he knew it; but he was neither excitednor afraid."It would be an evil thing for you to kill me," he told the man. "I have doneyou no wrong, nor have I done the Buli wrong."So well did he cling to the neck of the one man that they dared not strikewith their clubs. And he continued to cling and to dispute for his life withthose who clamored for his death."I am John Starhurst," he went on calmly. "I have labored in Fiji for threeyears, and I have done it for no profit. I am here among you for good. Whyshould any man kill me? To kill me will not profit any man."The Buli stole a look at the whale tooth. He was well paid for the deed.The missionary was surrounded by a mass of naked savages, all struggling toget at him. The death song, which is the song of the oven, was raised, and hisexpostulations could no longer be heard. But so cunningly did he twine andwreathe his body about his captor's that the death blow could not be struck.Erirola smiled, and the Buli grew angry."Away with you!" he cried. "A nice story to go back to the coast--a dozen ofyou and one missionary, without weapons, weak as a woman, overcoming all ofyou.""Wait, O Buli," John Starhurst called out from the thick of the scuffle, "andI will overcome even you. For my weapons are Truth and Right, and no man canwithstand them.""Come to me, then," the Buli answered, "for my weapon is only a poor miserableclub, and, as you say, it cannot withstand you."The group separated from him, and John Starhurst stood alone, facing the Buli,who was leaning on an enormous, knotted warclub."Come to me, missionary man, and overcome me," the Buli challenged."Even so will I come to you and overcome you," John Starhurst made answer,first wiping his spectacles and settling them properly, then beginning hisadvance.The Buli raised the club and waited."In the first place, my death will profit you nothing," began the argument."I leave the answer to my club," was the Buli's reply.And to every point he made the same reply, at the same time watching themissionary closely in order to forestall that cunning run-in under the liftedclub. Then, and for the first time, John Starhurst knew that his death was athand. He made no attempt to run in. Bareheaded, he stood in the sun and prayedaloud--the mysterious figure of the inevitable white man, who, with Bible,bullet, or rum bottle, has confronted the amazed savage in his everystronghold. Even so stood John Starhurst in the rock fortress of the Buli ofGatoka."Forgive them, for they know not what they do," he prayed. "O Lord! Have mercyupon Fiji. Have compasssion for Fiji. O Jehovah, hear us for His sake, ThySon, whom Thou didst give that through Him all men might also become Thychildren. From Thee we came, and our mind is that to Thee we may return. Theland is dark, O Lord, the land is dark. But Thou art mighty to save. Reachout Thy hand, O Lord, and save Fiji, poor cannibal Fiji."The Buli grew impatient."Now will I answer thee," he muttered, at the same time swinging his club withboth hands.Narau, hiding among the women and the mats, heard the impact of the blow andshuddered. Then the death song arose, and he knew his beloved missionary'sbody was being dragged to the oven as he heard the words:"Drag me gently. Drag me gently.""For I am the champion of my land.""Give thanks! Give thanks! Give thanks!"Next, a single voice arose out of the din, asking:"Where is the brave man?"A hundred voices bellowed the answer:"Gone to be dragged into the oven and cooked.""Where is the coward?" the single voice demanded."Gone to report!" the hundred voices bellowed back. "Gone to report! Gone toreport!"Narau groaned in anguish of spirit. The words of the old song were true. Hewas the coward, and nothing remained to him but to go and report.
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