Service !

On His Majesty's Service !

An "Ordinary Incident" of Fiji Travel

IN these days of war—with its attend ant daily record of heroic deeds at sea—the following story of a Fijian chief possibly loses some of its signifi cance. Nevertheless, it is typical of the everyday life of these people—a life that went on for hundreds of years before Hitler and To jo appeared to plague this planet, and will continue long after they have gone the way of all their kind.

Jeremaia Bili, a village chief, left Mango for Vanuabalevu by out-rigger canoe; with him were two other men, three women, four children, their gear and a bag of His Majesty’s mail. Tho weather had been bad for some days and the wind was gusty. They beat to wind ward across a bad patch of water; and, half-way across, the sail split.

There was nothing for it but to run downwind to the nearest land —Kanacea, an island north of Mango. Here, they repaired the sail and waited a few days for the wind to die down.

On the third day, they set off again.

Towards evening, when they were off Dakuilomaloma, they were struck by a severe squall, and the canoe sank.

Bill ordered the women to swim for it, with their children, while he and the men attempted to salvage the mail and the gear. Eventually they all made the reef—Bili with the mail. There, he left them, to try to swim to land, to fetch a canoe in which to rescue them. This he managed to do, and he returned to the reef in the nick of time, as the tide had risen and his people were standing up to their necks in water, holding the children above their heads.

The children were put in the small canoe and the rest, supporting themselves around it. came to the shore just before dawn. Their bundles of clothes were gone—so also was a bag of sweet-pota toes. But the bag of Government mail was safe—although, Bili apologised. “I am afraid the letters are a bit wet.”