Expatriation

Expatriation By HUGH J. CANNON R tARE indeed is the occasion when a passenger vessel leaves a Hawaiian port without having wafted after it the beautiful strains of "Aloha Oe." Nell had made a few native friends during her brief visit in Honolulu, and these were on the pier to join in the farewell song, their natural jol- lity subdued by the sorrow of parting. They had affectionately hung numerous leis around her neck, so many, indeed, that she was well nigh smothered, and not- withstanding the brief acquaint- ance, it was with sincere regret that she said goodbye, even though after her farewell to Nate she had felt nothing in life could be hard again. Mrs. Conrad, who had cheered her so on the morning of their arrival, was there also to bid her bon voyage. The two thousand mile journey from Honolulu to Pago Pago, the American naval base on the island of Tutuila, was made without especial incident. The one excit- ing day was that on which they crossed the equator. Then out of the sea, ostensibly, came King Neptune with trident and royal suite, and, according to long estab- lished custom, held court and or- dered all passengers who were crossing the line for the first time to be haled before him. A penalty of greater or less severity was pro- nounced upon all such. Not being in this class, Nell escaped the duck- ing or other punishment and there- fore enjoyed the fun. A: .S word was passed around the vessel that land was in sight it created the usual excite- ment. Miss Redfield, perhaps the only person on board not glad the hour to disembark was so near, excitedly scanned through a glass the distant islands; in this foreign land she was to live and die. True, Pago Pago and this particular group were under the control of Chapter Three the United States; but it was Samoa none the less on that ac- count. She felt that there was a peculiar resemblance between the islands and herself. U. S. naval officers stationed at outlying ports are always eager to see visitors arrive. This interest is in nowise diminished when among such arrivals is an unde- niably pretty and piquant young lady. En route Miss Redfield had made the acquaintance of Commo- dore and Mrs. King, the former a retired naval officer, and the party was welcomed by Captain Evans, who was in charge of the island, and everything possible was done to make their visit enjoyable. r AGO PAGO is nine- ty miles from Apia which is on the island of Upolu in Western Samoa. To those who have jour- neyed from one point to the other in the small, ill-smelling, rough- riding boat which makes the trip at regular intervals, it is anything but a pleasure cruise. But Nell, never having made the voyage, was impatient to undertake it. She longed to set foot in Apia, her birthplace and the spot where her parents lay buried. She was anx- ious to see what association with scenes and perhaps with people fa- miliar to her in babyhood days would do to her procrastinating memory. Urged by these desires, passage on the little inter-island boat had been secured immediately upon arrival, but her fellow-voy- agers, for whom she had formed a sincere attachment, partly because of their own natural worth and still more on account of her heart hunger, persuaded her to cancel this arrangement, remain a few days with them and accept the invita- tion of Captain Evans to go on the U. S. gunboat to Apia, whith- er he was obliged to send Lieuten- ant Hawley on official business. Notwithstanding her impatience, the prospect was alluring. Now that her destination was virtually reached there was a haunting fear of being left alone, so she assented to the proposal of her friends. There were in Pago Pago a num- ber of fine young Americans all eager to show her attention and she had more opportunities of see- ing the country than it was pos- sible to accept. The beauty of the harbor, the finest in all the South Seas, with its tropical surround- ings was charming. Old "Rain- maker," the picturesque mountain standing as a sentinel at the mouth of the bay, invited her to climb to its summit and from that compar- atively high vantage point gaze over the adjacent country. She was fascinated, too, by the dignity and sweetness of the native Samoan spirit. It was something new and strange and she felt would abun- dantly repay intensive cultivation. IN studying the native character, Nell often thought it would not be so intolerable if the hateful sixteenth of corrupted blood in her veins, instead of be- ing Fijian, had come from the Sa- moan race, dark-skinned though it is. Here for the first time in her memory she saw a group of her "brothers" as she contemptuously called them. A trading schooner had arrived from Suva, Fiji, manned entirely by natives of that land. Had there been no secret reason for dislike, Nell would have been greatly interested in them. In- deed she was interested, though inwardly repelled. The great bush- es of hair, many of them a brick red from the use of slacked lime, formed the only covering for their heads, and if the naked truth must be told they had very little cover- ing of any kind, merely a lava lava, a simple cloth usually made of bark, fastened about their waists and reaching to the knees.

The Improvement Era for October, 1930 807 Nell, Mrs. King and Mrs. Evans in company with some of the offi- cers were at the wharf as the sail- ing schooner, by means of its aux- iliary gasoline engine, worked its way to the mooring place. Captain Evans and the others were amused at and Nell was cor- respondingly ashamed of her in- dignant refusal to accept an orange, a fruit for which Fiji is justly famous, from one of the crew. "Why did you take such offense at that red-headed nigger?" the captain queried mirthfully. "Of course he did not have much on but at that he had no less than the Sa- moan men usually wear and you're no longer shocked at them." 1 HE unhappy girl was sufficiently well-bred to take the raillery good naturedly, but the word "nigger" had aroused tumult in her breast greater than anything which had occurred since leaving home. To hear one of her own race called by that odious name was the exorbitant price she was paying for a few days of pleasure. This and one other thing caused regret that she had not followed her orginial intention and departed with the Marstal. Hawley, the rugged young lieutenant, to whom was assigned the duty of conveying the party to its destination, was obviously taking too great an in- terest in her. Like other attractive women, she had learned that beau- ty had its disadvantages. So often had she been obliged to head off young men before their admiration turned to a more ardent feeling that she knew instinctively when to be on her guard. Now, after the ruthless manner in which her affections had been treated by fate, masculine attention, if it became even remotely lover-like, was most offensive. Still in this instance she sympathized with the young fellow; he was a long way from home and was lonely — at least that was her first impression; but it was soon apparent that little cause existed for loneliness, favor- ite as he was with men and women of the colony. Though polished by training and environment, there was a natural and delightful air of unconventionality about him. Apia. Proud of his seamanship, the opportunity of displaying it before the commodore pleased him, but even that was hardly as ap- pealing as the privilege of having a few additional hours to culti- vate the young lady. "There's Apia," he said hand- ing the glasses to her as the vessel cut through the water. "You can almost see the crescent-shaped har- bor. In another hour we'll be near enough to get a glimpse of the rusting hulk of the Adler on the rocks and the grave of Robert Louis Stevenson on the hill above. His companion was trembling with an excitement which her best efforts could not suppress. The officer noticed it and started to call Mr. and Mrs. King who were dis- creetly entertaining each other. "Please don't disturb them," in- terposed the young lady. "But I'm afraid you're going to faint, Miss Redfield. Let me help you to a seat." "No, I'd rather stand, but I am very much excited. Of course you have not heard, for I haven't told anyone, that I was born in Apia. My parents were killed in the tor- nado which wrecked the Adlcr and the other warships and are buried there." Hawley was astonished. "You were in Apia at that time? Why, so was I! A little eight year old kid in knee breeches; at least I was in knee breeches when I wasn't wearing a lava lava or paddling H AWLEY made no effort to conceal his pleasure at the assignment to escort the party to Lieutenant Hawley about in the water without any- thing on." JNELL had been in some doubt as to whether she should reveal any part of her his- tory. Not having reached a posi- tive decision this much of the story had quite unconsciously escaped her. The young man's surprise did not surpass her own. "How strange that we should meet here," she said. "You re- member the storm of course?" "Remember it! I should say I do. For years almost I dreamed of nothing else. The howling of the wind with which were mingled screams of men and women on shore and the faint cries of doomed sailors on the warships in the har- bor! A good many of the fellows who had seemed to take a fancy to me and whom I greatly admired were drowned. Yes, indeed I re- member it. Often on squally nights ashore or at sea I have wished I could forget it. But you must've been just a babe at the time." "I was four years old and of course it all seems like a dream, but I hope sight of the place will re- vive memory." "After such a sorrow as the storm brought, I should think it would be wise to let memory sleep." "No; I am anxious to recall every possible detail of my life here and of my parents. It will help me in my work." "In your work back in the United States?" "In my work in Apia." "I guess I don't understand. You're not going to stay here very long, are you?" It was evident that mere thought of such a pos- sibility made the officer's heart beat a little faster. He continued. "And another thing, if you'll not be of- fended at my curiosity, I under- stood your parents were living in America." "I don't very often relate fam- ily history to strangers, but this time I was surprised into it by the excitement of coming back to my old home, and now that I've told you so much there's no good reason why I shouldn't answer your oth- er questions. For a long time Samoa is to be my home, at least, to speak more accurately, I intend living somewhere in the South Sea islands. The parents I have in America are the dearest peoole in (Continued on page 837)