STICKING TO THEIR GUNS 



where a batch of seven or eight came from the same 

 island. They would soon become excited as they drew 

 near home, and put their odds and ends into a bundle 

 preparatory to being put ashore. It was not a walk- 

 over to recruit others at the time of their landing, for 

 as a rule the particular villages they struck w^ould be 

 too busy trying to deprive the new-comers of their 

 possessions. The women would drag everything from 

 them, even the bargains in soldiers' caps and coats they 

 had bought, but there was one thing which no Kanaka 

 would ever part with — his gun. The majority affected 

 rifles, but some had muzzle-loading sporting guns of 

 old patterns ; others owned revolvers and what not. 

 These they would fight to retain possession of if 

 necessary, but there seemed to be an unwritten sort 

 of code of honour which prevented even the chief 

 from trying to get possession of them unjustly. 



There was little delay after these returned 

 labourers were put ashore, and the captain would 

 endeavour to discover the homes of others ; this was 

 frequently, impossible. The poor devils would try to 

 explain, and even draw rough charts ; certainly there 

 were most difficult situations. It only remained, 

 therefore, for our skipper to do as many others had done 

 before, and that was to chance the men's destinations. 

 He would say : " They're as bad as drunks trying to 

 explain to cabmen where they live." Perhaps the glass 

 was falling, perhaps the skipper was thinking of the 

 waste of time. At all events, whatever the cause, he 

 would resort to drastic measures. Eventually the last 

 batch of coloured humanity would be dumped down 

 on the nearest island. Perhaps there were no in- 

 habitants in sight when they landed, and fortunately 

 he would not know exactly what would happen, but 

 I can assure you that when I became more enlightened 



119 



