Fiji's Secret Weapon

By Amel

WE had not heard of this “Secret Weapon” . until old Wilisoni, the vegetable man, told us about it.

Wilisoni, a large and grizzled Fijian from a village three miles away, has been bringing taro, yams, paw-paws and tall stories to our house for many years.

Either his instinct, or his burning ears, warn him when —and what—we are think ing of him, and we jc an be sure that he will arrive the following day in his gaudy punt, the colour of which would put any self-respecting fire-engine to shame.

After he has sold his produce for a sum satisfactory to himself, and cadged tobacco, matches, paper, an empty ben zine tin, a cooking pot, ten shillings, an old hat and anything else that occurs to him, he parks himself on the doorstep and tells us how the War is going.

Things like the radio and the news papers leave him cold. He gets his news from the Coconut Telegraph, which, according to Wilisoni, is the most reliable news service of all.

Last week, he was extolling the fight ing prowess of Fijians who had gone on active service in battle areas. They were wonderful soldiers, he declared, and had killed 60,000 of the enemy in less than a month.

“And did they—uh—eat them all?” I enquired gently.

Wilisoni, looking slightly shocked, ig nored this sally, and went on with his paeans of praise. All the Fijians were good at bush work, he said, but several of them, in particular, were of special value to their comrades. Here he paused dra matically and bit the end off a tobacco leaf.

“Why?” we asked, breathlessly.

“Because they can smell the Japanese!” he replied, triumphantly. “They creep quietly through the jungle, sniffing here and sniffing there —” he illustrated vividly —“and when they smell Japanese, they send word back for troops to come and surround them and kill them all. It is very easy for these Fijians. That is why they have killed 60,000 Japanese in . . .”

Suddenly he caught our sceptical gaze, and grinned , . . “You don’t believe me?

But it is quite true. I never tell lies!” ...

“No,” I murmured, watching him push

off in his little red punt, “not too many lies, Wilisoni. But 60,000 Japanese is pretty good going, even for the Smelling Corps!”