NAURU, THE RICHEST ISLAND IN THE SOUTH SEAS 



587 



feet set in cups of water, which in turn 

 must be covered with kerosene to prevent 

 the breeding of mosquitoes. 



All food is sent to the tropics in sealed 

 tins, but as soon as they are opened 

 weevils get in and work destruction. 

 Every bed is fitted with a mosquito net, 

 which must be cleared of mosquitoes 

 that hide in its folds, before it is securely 

 tucked under the edge of the mattress, if 

 one would enjoy sleep. 



THE SERVANT PROBLEM IN THE SOUTH 



SEAS 



Wages are low; a native boy (all men 

 employed as servants or in any capacity 

 are "boys") can be hired as cook for one 

 pound a month ; a house boy for fifteen 

 shillings; a laundress, who brings one or 

 two helpers and works two days a week, 

 receives one pound a month. 



The servants are fed where they work, 

 but sleep in their own huts. These native 

 servants are like white ones, in that some 

 are good and some bad. The good ones 

 are treasures — faithful and honest. One 

 conceives the same affection for them that 

 the masters had for the negro house 

 servants before the Civil War, but the 

 best of them do not work like white serv- 

 ants. They need continual oversight for 

 the sake of cleanliness and economy. 

 House-cleaning, for instance, is con- 

 ducted with a great deal of noise and 

 splashing of water, but only the high 

 places are touched, and if the cook finds 

 a supply of dish-towels he throws away 

 the soiled ones with the remark, "plentv 

 more." 



The reader can see that residence in 

 the tropics is not one grand, sweet song; 

 that one does not merely open one's mouth 

 to let fruits fall into it ; but, notwithstand- 

 ing these drawbacks, it has its agreeable 

 side. 



oceanica/s isles de luxe 



The master of the moorings, a man 

 who has spent thirty years in the islands, 

 is in the habit of saying, "The first ten 

 years are the worst." Nauru and Ocean 

 Island are really isles de luxe, for they 

 have electricity for power and lighting; 

 a refrigerating plant filled with beef and 

 mutton supplied by live cattle and sheep 

 brought up from Australia by each boat. 

 Other advantages are a bakery, steam 



laundry, and plumbing with salt- and 

 fresh-water shower-baths. 



None of the other small islands has 

 these luxuries ; but, even without these, 

 there is the charm of waving palms ; of 

 the shining beaches with their windrows 

 of shingle, in which one gathers shells 

 and coral ; of the sea breaking on the 

 reef ; of the native huts glimpsed through 

 the trees; of the white terns flying low 

 and screaming; of tall herons wading in 

 the shallow water at the edge of the sea; 

 of the white clouds driven rapidly over 

 the island by the trade winds ; of the 

 fleet of outrigger canoes sailing out at 

 dawn or silhouetted against the setting 

 sun as they return. 



The climate is hot, but is tempered by 

 the trade winds. For six months I 

 watched the temperature range between 

 78 and 86 degrees ; it rarely exceeds 90 

 degrees in any season. The sunshine in 

 the middle of the day is blinding and 

 scorching hot, but in the shade one suf- 

 fers less than on many July and August 

 days in the latitude of New York, in spite 

 of the extreme humidity. About 4 o'clock 

 in the afternoon the heat of the sun's 

 rays becomes moderated and the evenings 

 are delightfully cool. 



sunrise and sunset at six the year 



ROUND 



The sun rises at 6 and sets at 6 the 

 year around ; there is no daylight-saving 

 there. The only change of seasons is 

 when the "westerlies" come in the rainv 

 season. These tropical rains descend 

 with great violence. In the year follow- 

 ing the three years' drought, previously 

 mentioned, there was a rainfall of 150 

 inches, 10 inches falling in one night. 



The violence of the wind resembles 

 that of a blizzard, except that it is warm ; 

 but this is not a hurricane. The Line 

 islands are not in the hurricane belts, 

 which lie to the north and south of the 

 Equator. 



There is never any fog on these warm 

 seas, and the brilliance of the moon and 

 stars is unknown in the north. The 

 pointers of the "Great Dipper," as it 

 swings around in the heavens, are for- 

 ever pointing to the Polar Star, forever 

 out of sight below the horizon, and the 

 "pointers" which mark the position of 

 the Southern Cross are forever pointing 



