How remarkable, is the date of the following thoughts,
almost like a foreboding:—
’September 19th, 10 A.M. (to the sisters).—We
are drawing near Santa Cruz, about 100 miles off.
How my mind is filled with hopes, not unmingled with
anxiety. It is more than eleven years since we
sought to make an opening here, and as yet we have
no scholar. Last year, I went ashore at a large
village called Taive, about seven miles from the scene
of our disaster. Many canoes came to us from
that spot, and we stood in quite close in the vessel,
so that people swam off to us.
’They are all fighting among the various villages
and neighbouring islets of the Reef Archipelago, twenty
miles north of the main island. It is very difficult
what to do or how to try to make a beginning.
God will open a door in His own good time. Yet
to see and seize on the opportunity when given is
difficult. How these things make one feel more
than ever the need of Divine guidance, the gift of
the Spirit of Wisdom and Counsel and ghostly strength.
To human eyes it seems almost hopeless. Yet
other islanders were in a state almost as hopeless
apparently. Only there is a something about
Santa Cruz which is probably very unreal and imaginary,
which seems to present unusual difficulties.
In a few days, I may, by God’s goodness, be
writing to you again about our visit to the group.
And if the time be come, may God grant us some opening,
and grace to use it aright!
’At Piteni, Matama, Nupani, Analogo, I can talk
somewhat to the people, who are Polynesians, and speak
a dialect connected with the Maori of New Zealand.
I think that the people of Indeni (the native name
for Santa Cruz) are also more than half Polynesians;
but I don’t know a single sentence of their
language properly. I can say nothing about it.
They destroy and distort their organs of pronunciation
by excessive use of the betel-nut and pepper leaf
and lime, so that no word is articulately pronounced.
It is very hard to catch the sounds they make amidst
the hubbub on deck or the crowds on shore; yet I think
that if we had two or three lads quietly with us at
Norfolk Island, we should soon make out something.
’Don’t think I am depressed by this.
I only feel troubled by the sense that I frequently
lose opportunities from indolence and other faults.
I am quite aware that we can do very little to bring
about an introduction to these islanders; and I fully
believe that in some quite unexpected way, or at all
events in some way brought about independently of
our efforts, a work will be begun here some day, in
the day when God sees it to be fit and right.
’September 27th.—Leaving Santa Cruz
we came to this group from Ulava with light fair winds;
left Ulava on Saturday at 6 P.M., and sighted the
island, making the west side of Graciosa Bay on the
next Wednesday; sea quite smooth; thermometer reached
92 degrees.
