Taureka
p. 33 · Read in the full issue
THE best Papuan friend I have had was Taureka. He looked like an Afghan Chief and walked like one, but was as humble and friendly as his wife, a very capable and gentle woman.
They were child friends, married early, and were lovely and pleasant in their lives. , , All white travellers here knew Taureka of Gavuone, at the entrance to the Mar shall Lagoons. They liked his manners and unobtrusive helpfulness. They ad mired his seamanship in the .peerless canoes he made, and the very charming wide church of coral lime he built and surrounded with flowers.
Early in this July, 1941, I was with him in a rest-house he had built for me on the highest point of the coast. There were limitless views of mountains and sea We talked of our plans for a chapel there, and other works.
A few days later his wife, Kwalio, died from epidemic influenza. Taureka was at her burial, but lay down afterwards.
He had seemed in his accustomed vigour until then, but in talks with his people he showed that he knew his end was near. On the last evening he was carried to a verandah, and, from his mat, preached to a crowd, then led in prayer. At midnight he died.
Just a week after his wife’s funeral his body was borne on his best canoe, sur rounded with flowers and the church elders in white ramis, rowing across the lagoon, to the burial mound. Almost every canoe in the district followed, crowded with mourners, singing hymns that Taureka had composed and taught.
Less than 50 years ago he was a boy, with the first missionary to his district; and now his children’s children are studying to prove themselves as good
servants of the King.