The castaways' first close view of the Koro men was truly impressive. The Bua men were preparing for war. But the Koro were ready to do battle that instant. All were tall and heavily muscled, and those armed with bows were in the lead and painted with oil and turmeric. They were closely followed by the men armed with spears, all painted red from the navel down, and a fearsome black above through which their teeth and eyes gleamed savagely. Bringing up the rear were the wielders of clubs, painted black with the exception of their heads and arms which were red. All had streamers of white masi attached to their heads and arms, and the spears were similarly decorated.
Tui Bua received them, standing in the half circle of his men, leaning on his spear. First, a huge feast of pigs and root vegetables, still steaming from the heat of earth ovens, was presented to the visitors with grave ceremony. The leader of the Koro warriors then advanced and made his obeisance before Tui Bua. There followed a discussion between them about the expected war, and although Lockerby could not follow all the discussion that was formally carried on in the language of ceremony, it was apparent to him that an agreement had been reached. As if to seal the agreement, a man whose huge girth the seamen had noticed, advanced and commenced to unwind a long length of pure white masi from around his body. This masi which had given the impression of a huge body was unwound slowly amid many expressions of approval from the Bua herald. It measured, the seamen judged, about fifty fathoms in length, and the presentation was equally impressive.
Now the Koro leader advanced and stood by Tui Bua. At his signal the bowmen came forward, one at a time each to be given a new bow and a bundle of arrows. Then those armed with spears advanced and were each given a spear and told that when these spears were returned after the battle, payment would be made. An issue of clubs was then made, and the visitors, without another word, picked up the food and retired to the houses that had been set aside for their use.
During all these warlike preparations, Lockerby had detached some of his men to work on the boat. By the time of the ceremony with the men from Koro, it was seaworthy and already partly-stored. Food stores were most difficult to obtain as the Bua folk had dug up all their ripe food crops and had destroyed their gardens preparatory to moving into the completed fort. Lookouts were always posted, slung from treetops in baskets, and all the men had to stand watches at this duty.
A few days later Lockerby was taking his turn at lookout, torn between his desire to help the chief-who had treated him so kindly—and the urge to sail, as he had promised his men he would do, as soon as the boat was ready. All coastal traffic by canoes was at a standstill, and any sail sighted would most assuredly be that of the enemy canoe fleet. When Lockerby first saw a white speck on the horizon, therefore, he almost gave the alarm, until something strange and yet oddly familiar caused him to pause. For the sail, such as it was, was not the triangular matting of a canoe sail, but was square and incredibly white. It was, in fact, the topsail of a brig that lifted rapidly into view. He joyfully passed the news to his men and left his post to inform the Tui and obtain his permission to board the brig.
She was the American brig Favourite out of Port Jackson, and the castaway was in time to pilot her to the best anchorage. The captain, William Campbell, offered Lockerby and his men passage, and Lockerby in turn offered to use his knowledge and friendship with the local chief to procure a cargo of sandalwood.
Soon afterwards, dressed again in seaman's garb, Lockerby set out for the village of Korovatu where he hoped to obtain the wood, accompanied by a passenger from the ship. En route they came across a roving war party, well armed. The foreigners caused quite a sensation when Lockerby, whom the warriors did not now recognize, spoke to them in their own language. He first asked to which chief they belonged. When they replied, "The chief of Korovatu," he asked to be taken to him. Meeting the chief, Lockerby and his companion presented him with the presents the captain had sent from the ship and asked for his aid in procuring the wood. The chief replied that he was "too busy" and then blurted out the surprising information that he and the nearby chief of Tacilevu intended to support the expected enemy forces in avenging themselves on the chief of Tavea Island, who was the nephew of Tui Bua.
Stunned by this news of treachery, Lockerby left the village immediately, although it was late afternoon and he could not hope to reach Bua before nightfall. He and his friend became lost and, taking the wrong track, blundered into the village of Tacilevu, a dangerous enough happening at any time but doubly so when the men were preparing for war. Fortunately they were able to identify themselves as "men from the ship" and conceal their knowledge of the treachery they had discovered. They regained the ship the next morning to find another, the General Wellesley, at anchor close by.
The men in the ships were still thinking only of their cargo. While the coming war was a nuisance in that it would affect the collection of sandalwood, it was, they felt, none of their business. This also seemed to be Lockerby's view. Instead of warning his old friend and protector of the danger, he set off in charge of the two ships' boats to attempt to secure a cargo farther along the coast.
The boats proceeded as far as the Bay of Wailea, but they found conditions there similar to those at Bua. The people had retired into their forts from which they would not emerge even to accept presents. That alone should have been sufficient warning to the men in the boats of the imminence of the danger. Blindly oblivious to all but their trading instincts, however, they wasted much time trying to parley and persuade the Waileans to trade.
As they returned to the boats and started to leave the bay, they soon had cause to regret both their actions. They had ignored the obvious impending arrival of the enemy fleet, revealed by the actions of the Fjians. They had also failed to warn Tui Bua of the suspected treachery of his allies. Now, drawn up across the mouth of the bay, completely sealing it, were the canoes of a huge fleet—the combined forces of Macuata, Cakau-drove and Vuya.
Even their firearms were of little use now. With their swivels and muskets they could kill a few of the enemy, but before they could begin to reload the swift sailing canoes would be alongside and spears and clubs would soon decide the issue. Lockerby ordered the other boat to follow his lead and steered straight for one of the canoes in the hope of parleying or breaking through the ring of craft. Unfortunately, the canoe he picked was full of fierce warriors from the island of Bau, rovers who had joined the fight for the plunder they could obtain. Before any parley could begin the sandalwood traders were roughly handled and pulled into the canoe.
The other boat was similarly taken by a canoe full of men from Vuya. All the men were stripped of their clothes and arms, and the canoe crews would have quickly clubbed them had not Buli Dama, commanding the combined fleet and knowing the value of hostages, ordered that they be kept alive. For the two sandalwood ships still lay at anchor in Bua Bay, and any attack on Tui Bua would be abortive if their guns were to be used in his defence.
However, Bua was not the immediate objective. The canoes were on their way to attack the Tui's nephew at Tavea. The prisoners were to be unwilling witnesses to that bloody battle. The swift sailing canoe in which Lockerby lay bound outs ailed the others of the fleet and arrived off Tavea, where it was immediately attacked by five small canoes. These canoes, each with a crew of ten, bravely attacked the huge, less manoeuvrable double canoe, and came close to taking it, but the remainder of the fleet coming up astern drove them off.
The first day's fighting, after the excitement of the canoe action, was neither spectacular nor sustained. The defenders made a few sallies from the stockade surrounding their small island. Their small canoes were soon beaten off and retreated along the coast out of the fight. Several men were killed on both sides, and one prisoner was taken by the Bau canoe during this indecisive skirmish. At night the attacking fleet left the island and sailed to the mainland where fires were lit and arrow spear points were extracted from wounds, using seashells in the manner of tweezers. No help was given to the prisoner in the Bau canoe who had many wounds, but shortly after landing Lockerby saw him almost casually clubbed and his body sent to the ovens that had been dug.
The same mode of occasional fighting continued the next morning, and the pattern of the first day was repeated for the ensuing three days. On the fourth morning, a canoe of the attacking party sailed over to Tavea,