26

II.

HOW I TOOK OFFICE.

I HEARD the High Commissioner's announcement with rather mixed feelings. To be at the age of twenty-nine elder brother to a monarch of over ninety does not fall to the lot of many, and new adventures are always worth undertaking; but, on the other hand, I had already been to Tonga, and I knew enough of the place and the people to realise that, after the enthusiasm and excitement of Mr Baker's ejectment, would come a strong reaction. By this time no doubt every Tongan had made up his mind that the millennium had arrived, in which there would be no more taxes nor Government, and every man would be a law unto himself. Any Government that tried to undeceive them on this point would be unpopular, and any white man who was associated with such a Government would bear the whole brunt of the popular distrust, already aroused by the revelations of Mr Baker's delinquencies imperfectly understood. With a people who would pay no taxes, how were the liabilities to be paid off? Besides, I was to go there without any authority at my back but that which the king might choose to give me, and if I

MY INSTRUCTIONS.

27

failed, I alone must take the blame. The blame of failing in such a service would probably dog me for the rest of my official career.

On the other hand, I might have the luck to succeed, and the experience was certain to be amusing. On the whole it seemed worth the risk. The High Commissioner was still telling me his proposals when my mind was made up.

The plans were soon arranged. I was to go to Tonga in the steamer chartered to take back the Wesleyan exiles. I was not to be hampered by a detailed letter of instructions, but, furnished with a mere outline of the policy to be pursued, I was to present myself to the king, and thereafter be left with a free hand, to be guided by circumstances as to my future course.

Meanwhile the exiles had been sent for from the island of Koro, and on their arrival they were assembled to hear from the High Commissioner the steps that were to be taken on their behalf. They were, he said, to go back to their homes after three years of exile, which they had borne with praiseworthy fortitude. They were not sent back by the British Government: they were invited to return by their own king, to whom alone they owed allegiance. They were not to think that because they had been exiled for wishing to continue in their Church, this invitation implied that their Church had triumphed. If they adopted a triumphant attitude in Tonga, or tried to push forward the cause of their Church, disturbances would be quite certain to follow, and they would be in a worse plight than before. Any such conduct on their part would be a poor return to the British Government

who had befriended them, and whose one desire was to see Tonga at peace. They were especially to understand that the late events had come about from a true desire to help the king, and not from any ulterior object of extending British influence. Foolish things were often said in Tonga, and the most foolish of all was that England wished to take the country for her own. Victoria was not a "stealing Queen," and wanted no country that belonged to others. She and her officers were now, as ever, ready to endorse the proverb, "Tonga maa Tonga (Tonga for the Tongans), and it was their duty, whenever they heard this foolish statement made, to contradict it.

Then William Maealiuaki replied on behalf of the exiles. He began with a long and very wearisome list of the presents given to them by the Fijian chiefs, and finished with a flowery oration of thanks. Charlotte, the king's daughter, an old woman of past sixty, had called upon Lady Thurston with her women, and had presented an immense roll of native cloth, which, she explained, had been brought to Fiji to serve as her shroud, but since God had allowed her to see her native country again and would let her die there, she wished to leave the shroud behind her.

scene.

On August 16th the steamer Pukaki hauled into the wharf to receive her passengers. Counting children, the exiles numbered more than 120 souls. It was a curious Half the population of Suva had assembled to see them off, including the High Commissioner and the Government officials, and the wharf was crowded. Their native friends were weeping demonstratively, and the Tongans themselves were in a state of high emotion. The steamer,

THE PROFITS OF MARTYRDOM.

29

dressed with all her signal flags, cast off amid deafening cheers from the shore party, and as she swung out into the stream she fired a salute. As the echoes of the last shot died away, the voices of the exiles were heard singing "Home, Sweet Home," in their own language, taking well-sustained parts; and they continued singing until we passed through the white line of reef-breakers, and the figures on shore had melted away in a cloud of white draperies. We had cast off our nationality, and were now Tongans.

Our fellow-passengers spent their first day at sea in holding religious services, and in fussing about their luggage. These exiles for conscience' sake had already reaped the reward of their constancy-an earthly reward in the form of mats, native. cloth, kava - bowls, and all things that are most precious to the native heart. They numbered more than 120, and had left their homes almost naked. They went back with eighty tons of luggage-far more than they could possibly have accumulated in three years had they remained in their own country. Persecution had not been unprofitable.

One of the Exiles.

A grey fuzzy line just above the horizon, gradually resolving itself into cocoanut-palms-such was our first sight of Tongatabu. We steamed along the south-east coast, the Liku, watching the surf spout up in a hundred

geysers as each heavy sea forced the water into the cavelike tunnels in the reef; between the main island and picturesque Eua; through an intricate channel among the reef islets, until some houses showed white against the thick mass of palms. This was Nukualofa. In the sun

Nukualofa.

light every colour was intense -the blue of the sea, the white of the foam and coral-sand,

and the green of the vegetation.

From the moment

when the first land was sighted the exiles began to show signs of anxiety, which increased with every throb of the propeller. They got out mats from their bundles, presumably in order to land neatly dressed; but, to our surprise, we saw that the outer mat petticoats they were putting on were impossibly dirty and ragged. Not ragged enough, however, to satisfy their critical taste, for as we neared the shore they began nervously to tear and unravel the edges of these filthy garments, stopping at times to inspect their progress towards disreputability. We had yet to learn that a Tongan expresses humility, repentance, and respect for dignities. by the raggedness of his attire. The High Commissioner's advice regarding their demeanour on arrival had not been lost upon them.

We were boarded by the Collector of Customs and the Vice-Consul, and while we were still talking to them, two