[?] E Mystery Of The Little White Bag

Hss Mackie McCown has been le from the United States on an »nded holiday. She is the ghter of Mr. A. G. McCown, of edanu, Levuka, Fiji; is a double and a double BSc, and specialises 'blue-babies.” But, with all this wledge, she was recently unable ave the lives of three motherless ens. And this story is the con tence of that fact.

IE kittens lost their mother when they were a few days old and although Mackie did her with an eye-dropper and cow’s :, it did little good and finally decided that there was only one ig to do; She got one of the 30 bags that her father uses to i his pearl buttons, put the 3ns in it, tied it tight and took at to the reef and sank it, put a piece of coral on the top. lat should have been that, but metime during the next few 3 the piece of coral was dis ed from the bag, and the bag in to drift. drifted until it was three miles y, off the village of Nukutocia here, as is their wont, some of ladies of the village were out r the reef fishing. One lady, ewhat removed from the rest, d the bag floating by, and, say nothing to anyone, grabbed it kly and shoved it down south veen the ample folds of dress bosom. ut it rested there only moment y. Being a Fijian she maybe had sr before heard of “tainted ley”—but judging by its smell e certainly appeared to be some ig wrong with this lot. ut came the bag for closer ex

[nation, and this time the er ladies were > o gathering and expec tly. The bag i prodded ?erly and rors! Yes, un takably, by its there was outline of an aryo head, h lady, clear her own con nce, glanced reptitiously at neighbour I spared a ried thought her neigh r’s daughter, o could be re nsible for this ig? Neither by is nor symp is had any picions been used. Yet, re, undoubted was some ng.

Whatever it was, or whose ever it was, it was now a community matter and without investigating further, and keeping the bag at decent length, the ladies returned to the shore and erupted into the village.

Out came the superannuated grandmothers, and the grand papas, the toddlers, the gentlemen of the village and finally the Turaga-ni-koro (headman of the village, to you) to hold solemn con clave.

The bag was examined —but not too closely. Prodded a little and the pronouncement made. Yes, certainly, there appeared to be a head. The bag was hung on the low branch of a tree. But what to do?

It was a period of some argument, wild speculation but no accusa tions, you understand. But it showed, did it not, just how far one might trust one’s neighbour? Or one’s neighbour’s daughter?

Finally, the turaga-ni-koro de cided that this was Too Big for his jurisdiction. Clearly, it was a matter for Government, the nearest seat of which was Levuka.

He changed into his Sunday shirt and his Sunday sulu, got out his bicycle and with a last admonition that no one must touch the bag, pedalled furiously off, the weight of decision sitting heavily on his brow.

The village settled down to wait in an atmosphere of uneasy quiet.

The headman evidently had a busy few hours in Levuka explain ing the whole horrible business of the mysterious little white calico bag. But he finally returned, perspiring, to the village, and, in his wake, a member of Her Majesty’s

police; the authority of the Medical Department in the person of the local Assistant Medical Practitioner: and the Sister-in- Charge of the Levuka Hospital.

While the whole village sat around in respectful but alert silence, the headman led the official trio to the tree upon which hung the now dry ing and very odorous calico bag.

History does not record who cut down the bag, untied the binding and emptied out the remains of the three putrefying infant kittens. But the foul deed was done by someone, while the whole village and official dom looked on at first with stupefac tion, then variously, with anger, embarrassment and hilarity as the assemblage broke into vociferous ex clamation.

All except the ladies. They eyed one another and nodded with slow approval while over the broad, brown countenance of each spread a smirk of the purest virtue.

"Pedalled furiously off . . ."