t, his
kindly nature would have found some extenuation for them. Cannibals, as
a rule--certainly those of New Caledonia--do not eat each other
indiscriminately. For example, they dispose of their dead with tender
care, though they despatch with their clubs even their best friends when
dying; but this is with them a religious duty. They only eat their
enemies when they have killed them in battle. This also, in their code
of morals, appears to be a duty. Toussenel, in his _Zooelogie
Passionelle_, has a kind word even for these savages: "Let us pity
the cannibal, and not blame him too severely. We who boast of our
refined Christian civilization murder men by tens of thousands from
motives less excusable than hunger. The crime lies not in roasting our
dead enemy, but in killing him when he wishes to live."

During M. Garnier's expedition he met the chief Onime, once the head of
a powerful tribe, now old and dispossessed of his power through the
revolt of his tribe some years previous. At that time a price had been
put upon his head, and he took refuge in the mountains. There was no
sign of discouragement or cruelty in his manners, but his face expressed
a bitter and profound sorrow. There was not a pig or a chicken on his
place--for he would have nothing imported by the _papales_, or
Europeans--but he gave his guests a large quantity of yams, for which he
would accept no return except a little tobacco. When, however, Garnier
tied a pretty crimson handkerchief about the head of Onime's child, who
danced for joy at the possession of such a treasure, the old chief was
visibly moved, and gave his hand to the stranger. Two years later this
old man, being suspected of complicity in the assassination of a
colonist, was arrested, bound in chains and thrown into a dungeon. Three
times he broke his chains and escaped, and each time was recaptured. He
was then transported to Noumea. M. Garnier happened to be on the same
ship. The condition of the old man was pitiful. Deep wounds, exposing
the bones, were worn into his wrists and ankles in his attempts to free
himself from his chains. Three days later he died, and on a subsequent
examination of facts M. Garnier became convinced that Onime was innocent
of the crime charged against him. On the ship he recognized Garnier, and
accepted from him a little tobacco. Tobacco is more coveted by these
people than anything else in the world, and the stronger it is the
better. The child almost as s