Salome Harris, Leper, Hangs Herself

Tragedy Revives Memory of the Fate of William Harris

From a Special Correspondent.

Jaluit, Marshall Is., Jan. 15.

WHEN Salome Harris, a young and in telligent half-caste woman, who had been adopted and protected by the well known Capelle family, committed suicide yesterday (January 14), she supplied an other link in a chain of tragedies which have attended her family.

Salome Harris, who had lived a happy, normal life, became ill; and, to her horror, it was discovered that she was infected with leprosy—a risk taken by many dwellers in Islands towns. She was noti fied by the officials that on a certain date she would be taken to the leper station, a little islet some distance up the lagoon.

Salome Harris immediately began to write farewell letters to friends and rela tives, here and elsewhere, stating her de sires concerning her children and pro perty. She also wrote a letter to the local officials concerning the disposal of her body upon her death. These letters were all put away securely, where they would not be found until later.

On the day prior to the act determined upon, she chatted with friends as usual, and although sad, did not appear to be unduly downcast, and gave no one an ink ling of what she had in mind.

She retired to rest as usual, but arose early next morning, bathed, put on clean clothes; then went into another room, closed the door, and, by a rope fastened to a beam, hanged herself. When discov ered some time later, by one of her chil dren, she was dead, but still warm. ' Suicide is very uncommon in the Mar shalls. I can recall but four during a period of forty-five years. During the first forty years there was but one case: the other three occurring during the last five years. Is this to be regarded as a sign or result of advancing civilization?

Salome Harris, although born in the Marshalls and residing here all her life, was not of Marshall Island extraction.

Her grandfather was William Harris, an Englishman, a former trader at Nauru.

Her grandmother was a native of that is land.

Mention of William Harris recalls a tragic event of the past. I give it to you as it was recently told me by one who acted as supercargo of the vessel referred to.

The fore and aft schooner Ebon, in command of a German, Captain Becker, left here some time in 1889, for Nauru, on a,trading cruise, with some twenty re turned labourers on board. While laying off and on to the leeward of Nauru, with two whale boats from the shore along side, Captain Becker allowed the schooner to get too far out, instead of keeping near the land, as advised, so as not to get caught in the strong westerly current.

Captain Becker was a “know-all’’, and thought that he could easily run back to the land, as he had a leading wind at the time. When several miles distant from the land, a white man in one of the boats, Sam Halstead, having got all he required, started for the shore with his crew of strong paddlers. On account of the strong current it took them about thirty-six hours of hard paddling before they arrived.

The other boat, in which was William Harris, two other white men and the re turned labourers, remained by the

schooner, expecting to be towed up near the land before casting off.

Captain Becker was advised by those who were familiar with the place to go on the other tack for some miles, so as to have a better slant when heading for the land again. He is alleged to have said: “Mein Gott! With an E.S.E. wind, I vos not going to tack for Gott himself!"

Well, the Ebon apppeared to be going ahead, but all the time was getting fur •ther from the land on account of the strong current. By sundown the land was out of sight.

Then Harris and those with him de cided to pull for the shore, rather than drift away for days with the schooner.

Moreover, the captain was not altogether willing to attempt to beat back.

They started out, hoping to see before long the torchlights of the fishermen, which would give them their direction.

And that was the last that was seen or heard of them for many a day.

Several years passed, and all hope had been given up of ever seeing any of them again. Then, one day, two young Nauru women, who had been in the boat, arrived back at Nauru in a trading schooner.

Then it was learned just what happened in that fateful attempt to paddle ashore.

It appears that there was plenty of gin in the boat, and the natives were given a nip, every now and again, to encourage them at the paddles. All nipped too often, and all got drunk, and the boat kept on drifting to leeward.

When they recovered, vain attempts

were made to reach the land, but they had only a hazy idea of its direction. They had plenty of provisions in the boat, but very little water, and so suffered severely from thirst.

Some three weeks later they reached Santa Cruz Group, Southern Solomons, where they were put in some sort of a stockade by the natives of that place, fattened up, and killed and eaten from time to time —all except the two young women, who were taken by a chief as his wives.

One day, about five years later, a Ger man cruiser—either the Cormoran or the Condor —was slowly cruising along, close inshore, off Santa Cruz, when the men on watch sighted two swimmers making frantic efforts to reach the vessel, and being pursued by others.

The cruiser headed up towards the pursued, and took them aboard. They proved to be the two women referred to above—the only survivors of the boat load which reached the island. They were taken by the cruiser to Ponape.

From there they were sent on here in a trading schooner, and thence on to Nauru.

That is the story as I get it from .Mr. de Brum, who was acting supercargo on the Ebon when she went to Nauru, and who often travelled in the German cruisers, acting as interpreter.