How Did Mina Know!

By Penti

IT is when the Trade Wind dies down after dusk, and the cool of the evening descends over the island, that the tranquility and beauty give most of their charms.

With just the distant murmur of the reef and the gentle swishing of the palms to break the stillness, it is then so very easy to relax and think—or just relax.

One such evening my old friend Burton called in to see me. Burton was about sixty-five, looked about fifty, had a keen mind, a droll sense of humour and a private income.

A very fine fellow, too. His income would have allowed him to live quite comfortably in any part of the world, but he chose the islands, where he led a pleasant retired life.

He settled himself down with the usual Scotch, and then noticed an old newspaper lying there. It’s glar ing headline read; “Atom Bomb Test. Successful explosion.” He pointed to it.

“There you are!” he said. “We sit here, surrounded by beauty, peaceful and contented, while scientists and technicians devote their time to the pursuit of destruction. It’s a crazy world. The more I see of it the more I like this South Sea isle.”

“Yes,” continued Burton. “I some times think a few more of the scientists should devote their time to finding out a little more about this world of ours rather than try ing to blow it up.

“Take navigation, for instance. I read recently of a new super radio aid to aerial navigation. But they still cannot explain how the migratory birds find their way for thousands of miles across the oceans. They are still not sure how the natives of this very island once likewise covered thousands of miles of the Pacific without becoming lost.

“Right here in our Pacific there are mysteries to be solved, and how came the carvings of Easter Island, and the tombstones of Malden Island, to be there?”

“Yes,” I chimed in, “Medical science can offer no explanation of how these Polynesians—and other natives, too —can will themselves to die—yet it is a proved and estab lished fact.”

SO the conversation drifted along, and we expounded some kind of theory that people who live simple lives close to nature have certain instincts or intuitions which we, as superior civilised beings, have irretrievably lost. Quite an in teresting subject, and I was enjoy ing our little discussion.

All of a sudden our peace was broken by a loud “crack,” and a sower of broken glass fell on the

table. It was the chimney of the kerosene lamp which, for some un explainable reason, had shattered.

There had been no cold draught on the glass; no excessive heat either, for the wdck had been turned rather low if anything. It was just one of those things.

Fortunately, I had a spare in the house; and it was while I was look ing for it that I noticed that Mina, the house girl, was crying rather bitterly.

“Whatever Is the matter?” I asked, for she was normally a most happy soul, and this was unlike her.

“Aue! metua tanemate. My father he die,” she wailed.

“But, Mina,” I remonstrated, “your father is in Manihiki. So how do you know’? What makes you think he is dead?”

She had no answer for me. Just seemed to have made up her mind, and that was that. Mina was from Manihiki. an island some 800 miles up north of us; and at the time the only communication was per means of the trading schooner Tiare Tapero, which was then up in the Northern Group. So it was quite beyond me that Mina should sud denly take this idea into her head.

BURTON said good-night soon after and I did not see him again until a month later. In the meantime, the schooner had returned, bringing the usual cargo, odd passengers, and news from the north.

I was visiting Burton this even ing and when I saw him light the lamp it recalled the previous in cident to my mind.

“By-the-way,” I said, “do you re member the scene at my place when the lamp-glass broke? Well, Mina’s father is dead. I’ve checked with Skipper Andy, off the schooner, and he well recalls the night on Mani hiki, for he was ashore at the time and remembers asking what the cry ing and wailing in the village was about. Believe it or not, the old man died, as far as we can check up, at exactly the same time as that glass broke.”

Burton gazed at me for a long time. I can still see the look of amazement on his face.

“But Mina,” he said finally, “How the deuce did she know?”

Editorial Note: In 20 years, the PIM has heard of a number of such cases of what may be telepathic communication between natives of the Pacific Islands.