Big Nambus

The Amorous Project of a Big Nambus How It Made the Fortune of a Cinema Man

WHAT appeared to be a piece of very bad luck proved in the end to be the most profitable incident in the career of Mr. Martin Johnston, well-known Ameri can cinematographer, who was in the New Hebrides some three or four years ago.

Mr. Johnston, who was accompanied by his wife, was making films of Islands life and in due course he arrived at Malekula.

He decided to visit the notorious Big Nam bus, a tribe in northern Malekula, who are ferocious warriors and reputed criminals.

Mr. Johnston asked a missionary whom he met there (Pastor Stewart, of the Seventh Day Adventists) if he would conduct him into the Big Nambus country. Pastor Stewart could not leave for three days and Mr. Johnston refused to wait; so he and his wife set off by themselves, with only a native youth as guide. When they were near the Big Nambus, the guide bolted and Mr. and Mrs. Johnston faced the savages alone.

Mrs. Johnston was dressed in masculine attire, with a tight fitting hat, and looked like a slender young man. But she aroused the intense curiosity of the chief.

The chief approached her with apparent interest, while the rest of the savage-look ing natives crowded around. Mr. Johnston was standing a few yards away, working his camera. The chief suddenly reached out and pulled Mrs. Johnston’s hat off, dis closing her long hair.

“Ha!” exclaimed the chief, evidently gratified to find his suspicions correct.

“Grass belong Mary!” (“Grass” is Pidgin for hair, and “Mary” is a woman.) Mrs. Johnston, terrified, began to back away; but the chief seized her and pulled her close to him, feeling her soft arm and apparently making certain that she was a woman.

Mrs. Johnston screamed loudly, and was in a condition of collapse.

Mr. Johnston had been steadily turning the. handle of his camera, and was not regarding the incident seriously. But when he saw his wife’s terror, and the idea obviously growing in the mind of

the chief that this lady might be an ac ceptable addition to his harem, he felt that something had to be done about it.

He drew his revolver, while recognising that his position in the event of a fight was absolutely hopeless. The Big Nam bus were armed with muskets.

Then, with an inspiration, Mr. Johnston swung his camera towards the natives and caused it to make a strange noise) When the attention of the Big Nambus was attracted, he assured them that it contained a devil.

The chief displayed a lively curiosity concerning this new devil; but he still kept a grip on Mrs. Johnston’s arm.

The situation was very alarming; but just at that moment, by the best of good fortune, one of the Administration’s steam yachts appeared round a point, some dis tance out at sea.

“Man-o-war! Man-o-war!” howled some of the natives.

“Yes!” cried Mr. Johnston. “Man-o war. Man-o-war belong me. He come for me.”

The chief lost interest in Mrs. John ston, and the photographer and his wife immediately departed from that place.

Mr. Johnston, on returning to the Mis sion Station, made arrangements to em bark for Australia at the earliest possible moment. He said that, otherwise, he thought his wife would suffer a nervous breakdown.

When the film was developed it was found that it recorded, in striking fashion, the Big Nambus chief’s interest in Mrs.

Johnston—and particularly depicted her collapse in his grip. Around that inci dent they built up the story of the film, and it was a remarkable commercial suc cess. Mr. Johnston thereupon found him self a comparatively wealthy man. He afterwards became—and still is—a fa mous photographer of African big game.

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